Ship of Fools

My wife and I recently moved. Not to a new town, that would be silly. No we moved (for the forth or fifth time since we've been together) from Gridley to Gridley. But this time we moved back out to the country. We tried our hands at living in town and came to the conclusion that we despised every second of it. It's noisy, there is little privacy, its dirty, and it just doesn't hold the kinds of charm that we were looking for. So now we live in "Gridley Rural", in other words the sticks. We are still renting, which is fine, but we live on a couple of acres of walnuts surrounded by hundreds of acres of prunes. Sure, we have neighbors, the closest ones are about 400 yards away and there are countless trees separating our houses. At night we can see the stars when we look up. Not just the bright ones either, all of them. Rarely do we hear a car drive by and when we do its off in the distance and I'm sure once the trees leaf out we'll notice them even less.

Sure there are a few draw backs. Now a trip into town for that forgotten loaf of bread or gallon of milk takes about half an hour round trip. I'm commuting further to work, not by much but its longer than the 11 blocks I was driving before. Also, there is no internet access out there short of dial-up. No DSL, no Cable. Believe me, we tried. So we got one of those wireless broadband cards from Verizon, it does the job okay. Hell, its faster than dial-up but not close to as fast as DSL, about four times more expensive too.

All in all its trade off. But everything is. You can't have everything after all and all things considered I feel like we came out better in the end. I'd have traded all of it just for the stars.

Posted by Cris at 03:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Here in California we have equal opportunity. The plan in the beginning was that no one should ever be excluded, and it sounded like a good idea. However now that time has marched on a bit many aren't so sure if it was a good idea at all. You see, in California nothing can happen unless EVERYONE can be involved. Doesn't matter if you're tall, short, fat, thin, handicapped, whatever. If not every single person from every single possible angle can't be 100% involved the idea gets the axe. Finally though the powers that be has found something that everyone can be involved in and that something is nothing. You see, by doing nothing no one gets offended. No one can be excluded from doing nothing because it requires absolutely no effort. The problem with nothing is that it tends to become boring and stagnant rather quickly, which if you'll notice is exactly whats going on in this state. There can be no progress because by being progressive we might leave someone out and that simply can't happen. So we do nothing. Nothing individual is ever created because everything has to fit the same mold so that everyone can be involved. And its a shame. Take old town Sacramento. Even though it has been declared a national historical center the ADA is trying to have the wooden walks taken out; "difficult to navigate in a wheelchair you know." Doors are too narrow too, can't get through them. And the bathroom! Can't get in them either, and no handicap bars! Opponents of the ADA state that if you start hacking into the structure of these historical buildings it is not only altering a piece of California's legacy, it could possibly bring the building down. ADA wont budge though. "Change it or shut it down!" is the cry heard up and down the state. So in the end what will be left of old town Sac? Nothing. The ADA is powerful and so are their lawers and a group of historical preservationists who work with donations on a volunteer basis can't possibly compete.

Also, did you know that there is a city underneath Sacramento? Parts of the city were built at sea level (river level really) but the city planners at the time saw a problem arising when the rivers got high. Did they tear town the old city? Nope, built right on top of it, about 8-12 feet on top of it actually. And its still down there too under what is now parts of downtown. Lots of cities have the same situation, Boston, Portland, Seattle. The difference is that in those cities you can tour the old lost city. But not in California! Might trip over an old cobble stone or brick, no wheel chair access, would be hard to get around in a walker too. So what does California do about the people who are interested and want to see the old buried city? Nothing. Nothing at all. It will remain buried and lost and will in time rot away and be gone forever.

We've become a pool of stagnant water in this state. In our attempt to be progressive and include anybody we've become regressive and have excluded everybody. It's a shame too, there's a lot to this state and a lot that could be done. But nothing works better than nothing I suppose.

Posted by Cris at 09:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Despite many people very vocally questioning the wisdom of letting the Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad visit the US today he stepped foot on American soil in New York City...and immediately started spouting the same bullshit that he always does. In front of a large audience at Columbia University the Iranian President continued to deny that the Holocaust ever occured, stated that he doubted that Al-Qaida had any involvment in the 9-11 attacks, and stated that there are no homosexuals in Iran. The president of Columbia University, who apparently wasn't impressed with Ahmadinejad's comments retorted stating that he sounded like a "petty and cruel dictator," and that he was "either brazenly provocative or astonishingly uneducated." Ahmadinejad, who of course is used to having a pair or two of lips afixed to his rear at all times, took exception to these remarks stating ""I should not begin by being affected by this unfriendly treatment." Dude, wake up. You weren't exactly welcomed to this country with open arms, then you show up and spout your skewed version of the truth. Did you honestly believe you were going to stand up in front of educated people and spout off with that crap and not have anyone question you? Tell ya what, go back to Iran and whine to everyone who will listen about how cruel and mean the people of America are and how we treated you with such a large degree of unkindness. Speaking for myself, as an American, your opinion of me and my country matters not at all. Do I concern myself with how the turd feels after I've stepped in it? No, I clean it off my boot and continue with my day never giving it a second though which is exactly what I intend to do with you, Mr. "President".

Posted by Cris at 02:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Alright, enough is enough. Every time I turn on the TV I end up having to endure through some sports star looking downcast and trod upon. With their "poor me" puppy-dog look and their slow-and-low tone they would have us believe that their lives are nothing but sacrifice and hard times. Guess what boys, you haven't sacrificed anything. Nothing. I don't know what the latest obsession is with these people trying to make everyone believe that they are martyrs of some sort but it really has to stop. These are people who make millions, if not tens of millions of dollars every year to play a game. Overall their contribution to society is almost zero. If I made that kind of money you can bet that I would spend every waking hour looking like Smiling Bob on the Enzyte commercials.
So please, boys, stop trying to act like something you're not. Life is good now. Whatever crappy life you had before you've left it behind. Smile, be happy. And can I borrow a few bucks?

Posted by Cris at 02:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

To my readers, I'm going to try to keep this semi clean but my apologies in advance if you get offended. Here goes my rant:

It's a fact of life. The older you are, the funnier you smell. Everyone remembers wrinkling their nose at the occasional malodorous burst that your grandfather would emit from his recliner. We all have that one Great-Aunt who never quite got the message that bathing in lilac perfume not only didn't make her attractive, but was also socially inappropriate at funerals and baptisms.

Eventually though we're all going to reach the age when our olfactory abilities are no longer quite up to snuff, and then we too will join the ranks of the Funny-Smelling-Old-People. In the hopes of brightening the lives of all of the various and theoretical individuals who will be involved in caring for us though, let me offer a few ground rules that I've thought up during the course of my intensive studies of the aged human.

Rule Number 1:
If you urinate on yourself, change your garments and/or bed sheets immediately. If unable to fulfill this task immediately alert your caretaker to the problem. If caretaker is a lazy NA in a nursing home, threaten to cut some bacon off that rear end of hers if she doesn't get you some new drawers.

This may seem like a no-brainer, but when you have no brain (quite literally, as the Alzheimer's disease has put millions of little holes through yours) you might need a little reminder now and then. This is a bigger problem with little old men than with little old women. These 80+ year old gentlemen have worn the same pair of tighty-whities since Churchill was smoking cigars and fending off Nazis, and by God you're not going to change that habit now. True, the tighty-whities would now be more appropriately called tighty-yellowies, tighty-brownies, or tighty-WHAT THE HELLies, but the stench of old man funk, urine, and last weeks nursing home brand chili-con-carne is appealing and soothing to the most ancient of men.

All the same- fellas, change it up every now and then. If for no other reason than to spare the young paramedic who's come to pick you up off the floor the overpowering stench of your manly musk. The gentleman I picked up last night had been on a "Nothing but asparagus, and garlic" diet for about a week based on the incredible odor that was released every time he spread his sizeable thighs.

Rule Number 2:
If you have a colostomy bag, wear it. ALWAYS.

According to Wikipedia, a colostomy is "a surgical procedure that involves connecting a part of the colon onto the anterior abdominal wall, leaving the patient with an opening on the abdomen called a stoma. This opening is formed from the end of the large intestine drawn out through the incision and sutured to the skin. After a colostomy, feces leave the patient's body through the stoma, and collect in a pouch attached to the patient's abdomen which is changed when necessary."

I don't know how much more detail I need to go into on this one. The implications of not following my rather simple directive are obviously severe, but sadly it's a problem that millions, if not billions of Americans face everyday. At least it seems that way to me. Letting poo literally run down your entire body, including into the open, gangrenous wound on your foot is just bad form. There's nothing at all Christian about doing that.

Of course if you do let all of this happen to you, you're probably crazy enough to latch onto the railing of the staircase with your old-lady claw hands, and contort yourself into an ungodly position. And did you just manage to get your head stuck between two of the support posts for the railing? You did? Good. Time to call the Fire Department.

Rule Number 3:
Do not, at any time, place your nasty old-lady hands anywhere near the paramedic's genitals.

"Ma'am, with all due respect- please stop cupping my genitals. I don't care if I do look like a guy you dated in 1928" Yeah, I'd hoped to make it to at least 30 before I had to use that line, but unfortunately my chosen profession will afford me no such luxury. This rule doesn't have as much to do with terrible smells as the others, but it's still an important announcement for the geriatric population. Once you top 60 (and I'm being generous there) it is imperative to the psychological well-being of those around you that you adopt a perfectly asexual lifestyle. IMPERATIVE. To the younger folks reading this: work hard in school, and develop the anti-Viagra. Work hard to pass a Congressional measure requiring all old folks to take said pill.

Rule Number 4:
Ladies, take care of your teats. Everyone likes American Cheese- nobody likes Boob Cheese.

There is nothing worse than boob cheese. It ruins my days, and haunts my dreams. It stalks me in my nightmares- sneaking up behind me all curdled and smelling like a septic tank with a yeast infection. It's a known fact that failing to lift up your breasts and clean underneath (especially if they hang to your knees) will result in the spontaneous formation of boob cheese. Now before you get all spiritual and assume this is some sort of divine creation of new life let me assure you that if I didn't was parts of my body all sorts of little creepy crawlies would grow there too, and I'd have no part in their creation.

Now many of you may be wondering why I'm dealing with old lady boobies in the first place. Well sadly enough a few years ago they decided that paramedics were intelligent enough to apply a few stickers to a patient's chest, look at a few wavy lines on an ECG, and determine whether or not someone was having a heart attack. The Paramedics immediately decided that was a better job for an EMT, so there we are. This would be a good thing, if placing some of those stickers didn't require diving into the heart of darkness that is the underside of a 94 year old woman's 37lb breast that you have to start lifting from below her shin. I kid you not; this woman was scratching her left nipple with her big toe.

So there you have it. Rules for not smelling terrible in your old age, and for making the life of your medical care provider that much better. Oh, and really, no matter how bad they smell old ladies are still sweet as can be.

Posted by Cris at 12:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I've learned a lot of things in my life, we all have. But on reflection I've found that the things that I've learned from friends and family far outweigh the things I learned in school. Not that any of them help me particularly in my job or are of any true finacial value, but they are valuable in that they created a bond between myself and whomever was teaching me. I thought today I would share a few of the things I know.

From my mom I've learned how to cook. I can read a recipe, buy the appropriate items, and with a fair amount of success make a meal. She's also taught me how to look at a few items in the cupboards and prepare a meal or snack based simply off of whats at hand. I can make jellies, jams, and preserves. I fondly remember sitting in a steamy kitchen while my mom patiently cut up fruit or measured out pectin and glistening white sugar. She also taught me how to properly set a table, wash dishes, clean house, and garden. I can sew, not by using a machine, but by hand with needle and thread. Somehow I know how to darn a sock, not that its a skill I often use, but I can if need be. Finally, she taught me that sometimes true happiness comes from turning off the TV, sitting in a quiet place and reading a book.

My dad taught me how to fix things, build things, and if need be destroy things. I can do basic home repairs, minor construction projects, or even major ones with a little help. Dad taught me that just because something has broke doesn't mean that its broken. I can safely fell a tree so that it falls in the general direction of safety. I can use a chainsaw, an axe, a wood-splitter, even a hammer and wedge with success. He taught me how to hunt but that with the act of taking a life comes a great responsibility and respect. With that came the knowledge of how to properly handle and respect a firearm. Never have I thought a gun was a toy but rather a tool to be handled carefully. Most importantly he taught me temperance. Sometimes its best just to bear down and weather the storm than to fight against it.

My brothers have taught me how to share, wait my turn, and be patient. They have also taught me how to argue and even fight. I learned to ask nicely and accept "No" as a response. I learned to communicate long before I learned to talk, and I learned that sometimes no one understands you like your brothers.

My wife and taught me true love, something more valuable than gold. I've learned a different way of thinking and that not everything is black and white (but gray can be wonderful too). I've learned from her that even great disappointments can have a way of becoming great joys so long as you'll let them.

Finally, from my one year old, I've learned that sometimes the best thing in life is to let someone tickle you while you laugh your head off.

Posted by Cris at 12:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I don't know why I found this interesting, probably because I'm a history dork, but I've decided to share it with you all. Its the history of everyones favorite treat, the Twinkie!

The Twinkie made its debut in 1933 when a baker named James Dewar noticed that the machines to that made a strawberry shortcake treat sat unused when strawberries weren't in season. He decided that a new low cost treat was in order. The original Twinkies were filled with banana filling and came two in a pack costing just a nickel. They became instantly popular not only because they were inexpensive (remember, there was a depression going on) but because they were tasty.

Jump forward to WWII and rationing of just about everything. Hostess starts having a hard time getting their hands on bananas not only because of the rationing but because bananas just don't grow in the US and the shipping lanes aren't safe anymore. The decision is made to switch to a vanilla creme and due to the popularity they stuck with it even after the war ended.

In the 60's Twinkies got another surge in popularity because of the scare of nuclear attacks and became a staple in many home built fallout shelters. The claim was that Twinkies never go bad and therefore could be kept in the shelters for an indefinate amount of time.

On to modern times. Early this month Hostess decided to switch back to their original recipe of banana filling. It has not been stated if this is a limited time offering or not but I for one look forward to trying the new (old) flavor. So go out, buy a Twinkie, feel like a kid again. It's probably been too long since you've had one anyway.

Posted by Cris at 04:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

While at work this weekend I was called to respond to a vehicle accident on the highway. The single occupent of the vehicle was intoxicated (judging by the alcohol smell on his breath) and had flipped his car several times landing upside down. He was not restrianed by a seat belt and being an older model car there was no air bags. Due to the extent of the patients injuries (which I'm not going to get into) it was determined that a helicopter was the most appropriate way to transport him. While my partner and I took care of this fellow, CHP searched for his identification. In the process of their search it was determined that this person was most likely an illegal immigrant. What that means in this particular instance is that this person has paid no taxes, and therefore is not on MediCal. The medical costs that he accrued during this incident will be his alone to pay, and if he decides not to pay them (which is overwhelmingly often the case) it will be up to us, the citizens, to pay the bill. Therefore, here is a breakdown of what you all may get to pay for.

Ambulance Cost (base rate + 1 mile) $1500
Helicopter Ride (base rate + 30 miles) $12000
ER Visit $14000
Hospital stay ($2332/day * 3.5 day average) $8162
Total Cost $35662

Now, this cost is based on average costs that I had to look up on the web, plus some rough numbers that I happen to know. The numbers seen may be a bit high, may be a bit low, and do no include any type of rehabilitation that this person may have to go through. So, just in case you didn't know this is the real cost of illegal immigration. Still think that illegal immigration is harmless and saves us money in the long run? If you do, let me know. I'll send you my portion of this bill.

Posted by Cris at 12:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I know that this post is probably a waste of time because I strongly doubt there is any real person doing this, but if there is let this post be information to you. Posting advertisements on this blog won't work. I read every single one of my posts carefully and if you're trying to sell something or get me or my readers to go to your website in order to try to sell them something there it won't work. Let me explain to you how this works. You post your advertisement, I get an email stating that someone has replied to one of my blogs, I read your reply and one of two things happens. I either approve the post and add it to my blog or I hit the "Junk" button and off your reply goes into the ether that is cyberspace. It's that simple. You're not going to sneak one by me, you're not going to fool me into thinking your reply is something that its not. Your attempt to spam my readers is going to disapear.

So in case you missed the point of this blog, here it is in simple terms. I'm not interested in your free trip to Moscow, I don't own a home so I'm not going to refinance it at your extrodinary rates, I truly don't belive that you're giving away a free 60" plasma just by clicking on your link, I don't give a damn about little Timmy the one eyed orphin with Black Lung or his charity pledge drive to raise money for a colonoscopy, and I'm perfectly happy with the size of my penis. Therefore, I'm not interested in your advertisements, nor are my readers.

Posted by Cris at 10:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

People amaze me when they drive. A vast majority of my job involves driving so I spend a lot of time observing other people and how they behave in their cars. Most people are like I am, eyes on the road, checking mirrors every so often, and generally not doing anything more than just getting where they need to be. But there is that percentage of people on the road that seem to be doing everything but driving. Oh sure, they are behind the wheel and their foot is on the gas but in actuality they are just steering a one ton missile down the road hoping not to bounce off anything too hard. These are the people who are talking on their cell phones, reading, putting on make-up, doing their hair, eating, whatever. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of people out there that can do one or more of these things and still drive like a human being. Most however can't. They glide from one side of their lane to the other, change speeds randomly, make wild last second turns without using their signal, and generally make life on the road for us sane people hectic. You can always tell who these drivers are too, they are the ones who are missing a hub cap, have rub marks all over their tires, dents in their bumper, or a mirror hanging off. Battle scars from previous recklessness.
Truth be told though, I can deal with these people. Like I said, you can see them coming and as long as you keep an eye on them and stay out their way you're really not in that much danger. Oh sure, some jackass may do something totally random that you can't avoid and you may get hit, and sure its going to make you madder than a hair-lip at a spelling bee, but unfortunately thus is life. The ones that really drive me crazy (pun) are the people who really have no business on the road. These are the old folks who are driving 45 in the 65 zone, ten white knuckles on the wheel, barely looking over the dash board, a look of abject terror on their face. I understand that you have to get someplace and when you live in a highly rural area like most of us do public transportation isn't always an option. But for the sake of all our sanity, stay off the highway. I shouldn't just pick on the oldsters, there are plenty of people of all ages that fall under this category. I pass them almost every day on my commute. I always think to myself "they can't be paying any attention to their speed, the posted signs, or their mirrors otherwise they would realize whats going on around them and pull over." Either that or they just don't give a damn. You can't even use rude hand gestures on these people because they are so focused on that invisible spot 10 feet in front of their car that they wouldn't notice you anyway, and that just takes all the fun out of it. I've even considered pulling a little NASCAR action on them and tapping them into the wall (not really, seriously) but the land yachts they drive would just absorb the impact and send you flying. There's really no solution.

Posted by Cris at 08:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)