Internet Info (and military training) Can Be Useful

CPR, Anyone?

  

Now I don't know if you have to have a subscription to the internet’s Medscape (free, of course), but the reference below is to an article about CPR (Cardio-pulmonary Resuscitation) and relative survival rates using two types of CPR.  We in the military were taught compression with ventilation, the best type according to the article.  Guess all I'm saying here, is if one is to get into trouble and need help, one would be well advised to have one's problem somewhere where there are military personnel, active duty, reserve, or national guard members, or retirees, around.  Some military training subjects can be useful to anyone, and, in the case of first aid training, it is something many may never have had the chance to learn.  Glad I had the opportunity (might not have had it if the draft and the Vietnam war hadn't been in effect when I was an appropriate age, though.)

https://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/911248?nlid=129194_381&src=WNL_mdplsnews_190405_mscpedit_wir&uac=154343EK&spon=17&impID=1928898&faf=1

Think Recovery

While flipping through a "composition book" where I keep things like passwords, as well as thoughts I might have when the book happens to be in my hands, I came to this little poem.  Think I'll put it in here (in case I lose the book, maybe the internet will save just a bit of one of my thoughts.)


Think Recovery

Every now and then, my friend,
Or so I sometime think...
I take some paper and a pen,
And write, instead of drink.

There was a time, I'm sad to say,
When this was not the case, though,
A time when thought was washed away,
Down a "Madhatter" infested sink hole.

This arrived without a thought
Thanks only to growing older,
And drink that once was what I sought
Just left my thinking colder.

In time, that changed--changed as it should,
And now things are better for all;
For me, my wife, yes, even our dog,
Trust is now there whenever I call,
                   And trust, my friend, is good.


And, of course, copyright 2019, Stephen V. Geddes
(Should have been around 2010, but I just re-found it.)

Class of '62 "outing"

It was bound to happen !

Morningbrain struck about an hour ago (3:30 +/-.)  Thought about this a few minutes and all I can say, is, "I wonder if maybe Herr Brain sometimes activates due to the sleeping posture and the improvement of the blood/oxygen flow that is bound to occur when one is supine as opposed to having the head at the top of a verticality?"  May be one reason for the sleeplessness that attacks with a certain degree of regularity at night after a certain time has passed and one thing or another, e.g., hydraulic overload (?) requires arousal.

Oh, well, whatever the reason, it just happens.  Today, after Tobi and I returned from our respective dewatering holes, he returned to bed and I turned on the livingroom TV.  So far, nothing interesting there, so I took a crack at this.  Blogger is often neglected, even though, as its name implies, it probably should come first at this time of the day.

Well.  Went to Facebook and, wanting to post something appropriate, immediately perused UTube.  Found it almost immediately, having suggested "Ricky Nelson and Garden Party."  Listened, then posted ( https://www.facebook.com/steve.geddes.792/posts/2214466801980218 ) to memorialize, to a certain extent, a party for "The Graduating Class of 1962" that was set up by Judy Lackey (with assistance from, I suspect, "sigoth" David Ellett, and friend Martha Lockhart,) at Aiken, SC's "Outing Club."  Thanks, Judy, Martha!  Loved it!

It was a great day for it, and quite a few of us were able to be there.  Missed those who did not come and, of course, those who could not come (fewer of us available, the later in life we all are.)

Particularly enjoyed seeing some of my old baseball buddies, Terry Chance, Henry Roberts, Dick Simons, e.g., along with wives and other friendly folks.  I even met one lady who said she had worked with my dad.  Boy, would I like to talk with her a while longer!  Never knew much about what my dad did--workers at the site were reluctant to talk about what must have been highly classified work.  Ran into one Fbooker who didn't seem to want to talk.  Maybe he felt disrespected due to one of my posts.  All I have to say about that is (to use a "fishy" quote,) "Sorry Charlie!"  Guess I'll miss his comments.  So will Saul Alinsky.  Like we miss a terminally sick tooth after a trip to the dentist.  Hah!

Oh, well--what I won't miss, at least not for a while is Ricky Nelson.  Song was good when I first heard it, and still is.  Class of '62, too, was, and still is, a good, very good group.  Thanks again, Judy and Martha, and all others who had anything to do with the outing (at one most appropriate "club.")  Got that, "class?"  We've been "outed!" (All should consider themselves as being "Classy"!)

And thanks to all who came.  (Even Charlie!)       SVG

Not really a poet? Hmmm?

For the Father:  I

Well…I’m not really a poet, (you see,) though try I often do.

And, I’m not much of a singer—now tell me, friend, are you?

So now you know just what I’m not, what might ye think I am?

Tell me, friend, could I possibly be, that long lost King of Siam?

One thing’s for sure, my skin’s not quite right, it’s just a bit too mellow,

For most to say (at least today) it’s definitely not very yellow;

And as for the eyes, you don’t have to be wise, to see too little slant,

To be King or not, is not my lot, I would, if I could, but I can’t!

So, if not the poet, and not the singer, and certainly no King of Siam,

What then, my friend, Something better, perhaps? Better? Is that what I am?

Or so I think, without a doubt, there is that Family, you know…

And more than a poet or singer or King might be needed for Family to grow.

The answer is simple, the answer is true; all know what I know and now say,

With Mother, there is one, and that one is I; I’m the Father to this family!

(All say Hooray!  Say Hooray, today, Hooray, Hooray--for ME!)

Which brings us, friend to our poem’s end: Fini; Fini; Fini!

When Aphrodite calls, Adonis listens.

Hello?  Yeah, hi, Ap—say, it’s blank screen time again, is it?  Well, OK, if that’s the way you want it (just a minute and I’ll turn off the lights here too.  There.  Whatcha want?) 

Hmmm…same old subject, I see.  Well, as I’ve said before, anything you want to talk about is fine with me.  Sure…, “Ap and Don,” back to nicknames again.  Fine.  No!  Wait a minute (don’t disconnect!)  You know how I am when I just wake up.  Yeah, everything’s fine.  Go ahead, “dearest.”

Yeah, I slept fine, too.  It’s just this morning thing is a little trying at times.  Morningbrain is one thing, but morninghead is quite another.  Still waking up.  Give me one more minute….  There!  Coffee always helps. 

What’s that?  Oh, no, Tobi’s fine.  So is Jennie.  They’re both sawing logs in our bedroom.  You’d think it would be full by now, but it seems we always find another place to stash them till we need them.  Me, though, that’s another story.  Morningbrain comes and goes with a degree of regularity it seems.  Logs or no logs, it’s always sitting there in the background waiting on me to grab my trusty HP to record whatever we might come up with (whenever and wherever that may happen!)  And, yes, my dear, here and now is just fine. 

Say again…just a bit louder, this time…Sex is it?   Sure.   I mean, why not?  What else is there when Aphrodite calls?  Adonis has no choice.  Yeah, I’m still here—still glued to my keyboard, so to speak.  What—me first?  Sure….

As you well know, I have had more than my share of locker room experience.  First there was that time in Talladega that we all know about…birthdays come to us all, right?  Then there was that time when I broke my leg and had to be rushed to the hospital.  Again—always another hospital.  And, that’s not even to mention all those times with mom and dad in the night when all I really wanted to do was not to wet my pajamas.  Yeah, locker room stuff comes around regardless—even when we were little kids. 

And then as I progressed to sports there were times when we were here or there and had to dress out.  Yup, again there comes another locker room.  Sports locker rooms beat those times in the middle of the night and those times with docs and nurses taking care of problems we would just as well like not to have to think about.  Sports brought all of us guys together, and required that we take showers before leaving after our encounters on the gridiron or in the gym or on the baseball diamond.  Yes there it was, dearest, me and the other guys all together getting cleaned up in the shower room.  And what did that teach us?  Well, you know what that taught us, us guys, that is!  In spite of what our founding fathers might have written, it was more than obvious that all “men” were not created equal.  Or “boys,” either, for that matter. 

I particularly remember one time in High School when I was showering with a variety of others and one big guy (he was the fullback, mind you,) came in and began to get cleaned up.  Well!  Shoulders like a park bench, slimming down like a Hollywood idol, and no one said a word about what was obvious to all of us.  Size might not matter to a certain degree, but it sure was obvious to all that day.  And did anyone comment on what we all saw?  Did anyone want to be tossed around like a rag doll in the hands of a mad owner in her own room?   Nooooo!  Whatever we saw and thought was buried under a mound of concern as to what this guy might do if anyone said anything the least bit critical about his “physique.”  Oh, Aphrodite, how you girls must wonder about things like this.  I mean, what’s to see in that girls’ locker room (if you’re a girl yourself, I mean!)  What we guys see and avoid commenting on, as opposed to what you might be looking at in your locker rooms is more than obvious.  If anyone wants to know anything more, here, allow me to suggest a trip to a fine arts display.  Aphrodite and Adonis, indeed! 

Your turn, Ap!  Come on, now, I’d really like to hear what you come up with.

Heh, heh, heh…!

To be the Boss, “Deux”

To be the Boss, “Deux”

Listening to today’s morning “News” hours, yep, “Stephanopolis’s,” and, “Meet the Press,” you know what I mean, I can’t help but pass on a bit of commentary about our President, and his government shutdown.  We all heard what he (the Donald) had to say about his shutdown, how it may go on a while, up to, and including, a couple of years, and I think he has a point—misdirected though it is.  He is like that second grader who is threatening to hold his or her breath until he or she gets what he or she wants, and we all know how that turns out!  Well, the same thing will happen in this case, and unless what he really wants is a time-out to go to Maralago to find some substitute for Smokey Daniels to pull around by the short-hairs, which would be a shame, considering the class acts that are our first Lady and his children, a government shutdown is really totally unnecessary.  Please consider the following, Sir!

While you still own the title, let me say, “Mr. President:  Why not, instead of closing down the Government, just close down the Office of the Presidency?  Would this not allow you to go wherever you wish, and do whatever you wish, to include that short-hair business, without impacting our country negatively one bit?”  And, also, if that would come to pass, it would not terribly impact some other pretty fine politicians, like Mitch McConnell, and Lindsay Graham, for example, and would get your point across without negatively impacting (also) hundreds of thousand governmental workers and millions of other Americans who depend on the government for necessary governmental services. 

Why not try that, Boss (and, oh yes, that term is used intentionally—see https://stephenvgeddes.blogspot.com/2012/12/oldie-but-goodie-what-it-takes-to-be.html,) and see what it gets you, but more importantly, see what it gets America.  And thank you for your attention, Mr. President, Boss, wherever you are.  And, of course, “God Bless America.” (We really do so need your help with this, Lord of All, Lord of the Universe, regardless of what some sociopath in a position of power may think is what HE needs to magnify HIS glorious name, and more importantly, HIS glorious pocket-book.)

Thank you, All

Copyright Stephen V. Geddes, Aiken, SC, 06 January 2019.

Ah, Margaret (Our Margaret.)

Bridge Over Troubled Water

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H_a46WJ1viA

Dear Margaret:  One thing I know, and this I know, you see:  If you, yourself, we shouldn’t blame, then AT&T must bear the shame—anyone else, but me. 

On reading your name in the Obits last week, I was both saddened and stunned.  How long had it been since I drove to your house and sat down with you to discuss your relationship with my wife and me?  Not all that long, I think, and one thing that I must say is there is nothing but sadness in my heart for your passing, regardless. 

The last thing I remember saying was that that old “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just call” line which, of course, I meant, sincerely, quite sincerely.  When you told my wife you were ending your relations with her, neither she nor I knew why.  When you and I talked, I understood your frustration in thinking she did not want to work with you from time to time on various things of concern.  As I said then, perhaps it was how her phone might have cut you off (and without your knowledge, at that,) while you were leaving her a message you felt she needed to hear.  One strike, AT&T, one strike indeed.

Possibly, though, another problem was when I went to their (AT&T’s) local office to get some help with their equipment and was told there was no way they could transfer my phone list from my old tried but true piece of their technology to the new phone I was buying to replace it (it would no longer charge it’s battery.)  They could not access my phone list?  On their SIM card?  Sounds like a lack of training of their personnel to me (what else could it be?)  Not Me—Not ME!!!  Strike two, AT&T, strike two, indeed. 

And now, here I read your name in that little front page highlighted section of my AikenStandard, in its front page Obits.  WHY, I cry?  And at your service, two days from that, again, WHY, I cry? 

You were a sweet lady, my dear.  There is no way else I can say this.  You should be with us yet, and you aren’t.  Was it something I could have done, dear heart? 

And now, I am sure, you might have called, and I would not have recognized you as the caller.  (I would have called you back in an instant.)  Why?  Oh, God, Why?  STRIKE THREE, AT&T, STRIKE Three.  Damn. 

AT&T does a lot of good, and for a lot of people. In this case, though, they did not.  In this case, they failed, and failed miserably.  Sorry for that Dear Margaret.  Sorry for that.

At least your suffering is over.  Maybe that is AT&T’s one saving grace.  Maybe.  Damn.

Data, Data--what to do with the Data?

Data, Data—what to do with the Data?

Theodor Seuss Geisel, known to most of us as Dr. Seuss, was an active author when my children were for real "children," and his "My Book about ME" was available to them when they were of the age, so to speak.  Unfortunately their dad had not discovered his historical bent at that time, something that would have to wait until he grew much older and began writing his own book about me, i.e., his autobiography (see Amazon for details,) in 2016 or so, and because of this any writing that may have occurred as a result of the Seuss book’s influence on the children was not realized for the importance that it may have had at the time and was not saved for that Geddes history that has yet to be written.  This is an error that need not be made in perpetuity, though, and this brief essay will definitely be passed on to the Geddes clan for their use (or not) as the case may be.  I hope they “get the hint,” and can only say I wish the hint had been passed down earlier (say, to ME?) in this family’s history.

That being said, what do you suppose today’s “Morningbrain” entry might consist of?  Well, we will not go into the subject to the depth that I hope will be my wont in the future.  I will simply state the obvious, that such work can and should be preserved for the family of the future.  And how might this be done?

Well, today’s technology leaves several options, some more durable than others.  In this case, today, I am typing on my trusty HP laptop, which laptop has recently been pronounced (by HP) as being in danger of lacking the support of its parent company should problems develop in the future.  Why is this, you say?  Well, technology waits for no man and what was a good thing ten years ago, or so, no longer is that sustainable.  Newer equipment is both faster, and able to store much more than this old standby will be able to do and the newer equipment is still not all that much more expensive than was what I am typing on today.  Should I upgrade?  Well, probably. 

In the mean time, what are my options?  Well, the first thing to do is to save what I already have created and, while there are a number of options here, some are probably better than others. 

We have the paper option, print out what we want to save and keep the material secured somewhere for those of the future to find.  Now, if you have taken a few thousand pix in the recent past, you will probably not want to exercise this method of data maintenance.  Sure, it may make sense for some things, that autobiography, for instance, but all those pictures?  I think not.

Then there is the thumb drive option.  Thumb drives and other data storage devices are available, and they seem to be getting less expensive as time wears on.  The only problem is one of durability.  It seems the magnetic material that is used to save the data has a bit of a longevity problem itself.  What is here today, may not be here tomorrow, so to speak.  Probably another idea that is not in our best long-term interests.

Then there is the cloud.  While the cloud may provide a long term solution to data storage, it depends on others to the extent that costs could go up, even multiply, as time goes on.  It also may depend on things like our political parties.  Do we really want to save our thoughts, hopes, and dreams in a place that may or may not be available in the future?  What might happen if our “leaders” get us involved big time in a war? 

Then, again, take another angle on this:  Look at prescription prices, for example.  What used to seem reasonable, cost wise, today is becoming someone else’s way to part you and large portions of your money, if, that is, you want to stay alive.  For my money, that cloud is not a very good idea. 

Finally, for today’s purpose, I will go to some good old fashioned plastic storage.  Ah,yes, data discs! The plastic is relatively durable (it can be protected using fireproof boxes in the home) and the data itself, once burned into the plastic with our friendly home disc creation devices (and yes, my old HP laptop has its own attached device, complete with laser, that should work just fine.)  Well, there we have it.  Data discs are my method of choice for my data and pix.  Now, the only thing I have to do is review file after file and pic after pic to determine which will be saved.  Quite a job for me.  For you?  Just do it.  Your family will appreciate your work for years to come, I suspect.  And you will sleep easier knowing your work, while not currently appreciated as you might like, will, at least, be available to those minions of the future who may call you granddad, or the granddad of my granddad, or….  Well, you get the picture.  (I hope.)

We’ve come a long way from that dah-di-dah-dah etc, I learned as a boy scout.  Good or bad, that’s just the way things are.

SVGeddes; 2018-10-16

What do I do with all this data? Again?

What do I do with all this damned data?

Well, I awoke, as per plan, if not per outright schedule, fresh as a daisy at 3:50 this morning and so, as is my wont, up, up, and away I flew from my bedroom to the kitchen to see what I might find.  And what was that.  The kitchen had not changed one iota from what It had been when I crawled into bed late last night barely able to keep my eyes open, not even trying to stay up to see what Stephen Colbert might have come up with about our one and only Great Guy of the moment.  And I like Colbert’s comments.  He is one of the best things I can think of when I am forced to think about the Great Guy we now have as newsmaker in chief, President of all he surveys, SOB extraordinaire, Donald (smell something?) Trump.  Yes, it is Colbert I await each night to see to give me strength to go on.  Great.

Maybe the North Koreans have something.  Their leader, Kim Ill Something, inherited his position, as do most Kings, from his Father, who, like most fathers, finally died and left things awash and akimbo for those left behind to deal with.  And deal with it Kim Ill had done, putting together a nuclear explode and deliver plan that has given all, including our SOB extraordinaire, something to think about and deal with.  Good for him, I think, he could use a little Pt 239 or something up his whazoo for a night or so, and then he would be just where he deserves to be.  In the mean time, the rest of humanity gets to sit back and watch the evening news to see what he and our SOB (well, you get the picture) as they play out their roles on the world stage might have recently done and, hopefully, that something would not be anything at all that would hurt anyone at all.  What a life.  Mine or theirs, you say, well, take your pick.  From first breath to last, we all have our own missions—just to extend that little bit of life for as long as we might to do what? 

Well, if extension is all there is, I guess you and I are no better or worse than these two piece of guano fellows or their least of brethren next-door neighbors digging through some junkyard trying to find their own nightly dinner.  The President and the Pauper?  Try “The Prince and the Pauper” and you just may have something.

Take a breath, friend.  It just could be your last (depending on the actions of two fools, that is.)

Smiling yet?  Good grief. 

Now, as to that data, well, there will be another night, and another morning, or so we all hope.  The data, dying its slow death in computerized sticks, can wait.  No one will really give a damn at all.  (And, yes, that data will die if left only in those sticks.  Maybe we should all try putting it on disks.  Once burned in there, it could last for centuries.)

P.T.Barnum?

P.T. Barnum, uh, No! No!

Pootin and Tramp, ain’t they a pair?

Runnin’ round, hand in hand, everywhere!

One thing’s for certain, you surely know,

They’re both real sweeties when they do-si-do!

Dancing part-ners, that’s what they are—

But Tramp don’t drink, and he’s far from the bar,

And even at that, they’re a sweetheart pair,

One New York suckah and his Russian Bear.

Quite a life, we think, they could surely have led,

So long as the one respects the other’s bed...

(Or maybe we’re wrong here, just don’t know--)

The Russkie’s got a wife?  (Or maybe a beau!)

In any case it’s rumored that one of them says

He has goods on the other from a Russian bed,

And all will be well so long as both play the game

And harlots in Russia will never be the same.

Pootin and Tramp, ain’t they a pair?

Runnin’ round, hand in hand, everywhere!

One thing’s for certain, you surely know,

They’re both real sweeties when they do-si-do!


P.T. Barnum, uh, No! No! (c) 2018 Stephen V. Geddes