Friday, December 23, 2011

Time for Mark's Holiday posting, 2011

Well, goodness, that time of the year again, when the Geezer reflects on doins’ and dealins’, then takes electrons to fingertips to blather those observations and obfuscations.

So, sit back, and learn from my wit and wisdom. This should not take long, and no brain cells were destroyed in production of this spew.

This has been a four star year for me again. Most are, life is too short not to have it so.

This isn’t all commentary, but I have an idea to get our country moving. If you don’t have strict budgetary restraints, buy American! Be optimistic. Help your neighbors who may be suffering. Lastly, you have heard it before from others, but I am about ready to toss all the incumbents out! The politics around continuing the payroll tax cuts, the renewal of unemployment insurance, and the Keystone pipeline about tip the old Geezer over. Two months does not allow enough time for anything on UI and payroll tax cuts. The resistance to the pipeline is nutz, sends jobs overseas, increases dependence on “foreign” oil, and you greeners, are you nutz? You would rather have petrol refined in China, with no environmental regs, instead of Houston/Port Arthur where we have some. You ever see pix of the air in China?

Be mindful of what you read and hear. New unemployment apps being down is good, 100,000 new jobs is not, because it takes 140,000 just to absorb new entrants to the job market. Methinks it is a plot to protect the re-election of the guy I heard described as “a cross between Erkel, and the guy from MAD magazine (Alfred E. Newman)”

Holey-moley. ‘Nuf said.

The thing that was most often a consideration for me this year was that annoying schmooge on my vocal chord.

I was going to go to Dr. Zappem (Upendra Parvathenini) but the review physicians in Baw-stone said I should get surgery instead. So, ended up with Dr. Slicem’ (Tanya Meyer) who is about my kid’s age. Sheesh. But what an artist she is. The pics taken right after the four hour surgery showed nothing. I mean, nothing. You couldn’t tell anyone was in there slicing and dicing, at all. Truly amazing.

That was the good news, but she couldn’t get it all. So, back to Dr. Zappem and his magic machine and crew. 35 treatments, one a day, twice on Fridays! It is like a huge radio broadcast tower, RF energy. Folks, now I know why they don’t want you climbing up on those towers. At the end, the front of my neck had no skin on it, just white flesh. Yowsers. See it here

I was only concerned about it getting infected, but it didn’t and now is back to normal, as is my voice, save for the kewel “permanent tan” where there was no skin for a while.

Doc said, prior to last treatment, we got it all, interesting, because I thought they were not to speculate, and it takes a new CAT scan to confirm. He is going to confirm that next week in any event.

Cancer is really oversold, IMHO. It is sold on a scare basis, and this treatment place says they are the best another says they are, etc. etc. All accompanied by soothing music, and the soft verbiage delivery. Truth is, most of it they can get rid of these days. Really. Do you research, have a plan, get the best crew you can, and they fix you right up.

My technicians were nothing but the best, folks of good spirit. My dietician was a sweet young thing, worried about me losing weight, which is still a puzzlement to this day. Me, losing weight. Not on this planet. And the Oncology nurse was an ornery old cuss, who I called Nurse Rached, to her face. She took that well, and her colleagues chuckled and nodded their heads in agreement when I referred to her so. She is a weird bird and I think, mean. Found out she was a retired Lt. Colonel in the Army, so I changed tactic, and started calling her Colonel. After that, she seemed to like me better, go figure.

It never hurt; in fact, I can’t even say it was irritating. More like just an annoyance, like getting the goo they make you put on there on the collar of your t-shirt.

What did I do for fun? The annual pre-father’s day trip to Spokane. Went to Colville and took in a Washington Coalition for Open Government schmooze, put up the big letter M in front of the Sherman Pass camera, which is circled here:

Went up the Aenas valley on a forest/BIA road that was, uh, interesting. Including the creek that ran down the middle of the road for about 50 yards. No impassable trees across it, but it was, uh, interesting. Came out on the Sanpoil River, over the mountains to Welpinit. Across the excellent BIA furnished, Colville tribal run FREE ferry across the Columbia, which was a very slick setup, all mechanized docking, nice chat with the deckhand, a displaced logger and tribal member. It is so nice to talk with someone who really, really likes their job, even in zero degree weather with the wind blowing. Then on to SCC where we had our annual Father’s conference, with the usual suspects. Lots of good news there, most notably the DSHS program to have first choice of placement when a kid is taken from a home with their FATHER, which had not always been the choice before.

Another trip to Whistler with my road trip buddy, Pat, where I got up close and personal with one of the “resident bears” See the pix here:

They are sooooo cute, and friendly, from a distance. And no, there was no telephoto on when I took that pic.

Went on an adventure, trying to find this provincial park, only 6 km. the sign said. Only trouble was the forks in the road weren’t marked. I took the most ‘straight ahead’ and obvious branch but the road deteriorated greatly. However, soon there were “street signs”, very nice ones, along the way. After pondering a bit, I figured out I was on the cross country ski trails, and the signs were for the skiers. One place, well, it wasn’t quite like a Jeep commercial, but I did comment, we are committed now, no way am I backing up this hill. My road-trip buddy heard me say that before, a couple of years ago.

Oh, and even in mid-August, there was way plenty of snow left up there, see the pic here:

Yes, that is me, and I am 6’2” on most days, depending on what convenience store or bank I am leaving. (Props to Ron White for that line)

At the end of my treatment, another road trip to Spokane for a weekend. Stayed at Louis Davenport’s place. Do you know that the Davenport Hotel once had the largest PBX (telephone private branch exchange) north of SF? Or that the Crab Louis was created there and named for Mr. Davenport? Went up to my friend Jennifer’s place, met her boyfriend WE (gotta have a better word for male friends over 65 than boyfriends, methinks) I call him WE because I hear “we this”, and “we that”, and since her bro-in-law that lives across the street is named Steve also, like he is, I call him WE.

Never saw the place with the garden working in the summertime. Stuff sure grows fast over there. Her turkeys are—make that were (now eaten) -- funny, when the Rottweiler goes in the pen with them, they follow him around like he has food for them or something. Funniest thing I saw in a long time.

Not being employed is less than high fun. Doing OK, but Christmas presents are uh, modest this year, sorry gang.

El Gato is getting a bit older. Still jumps up fluidly, but sometimes walks like an old man. Still a faithful kitty, loves to snuggle with his daddy when I take a nap, and we watch O’Reilly with a bowl of ice cream each night, prior to bed.

The Evergreen State Fair which is actually the Snohomish County Fair, but don’t tell anyone, where I am on the board, had its best year ever, taking in max money, with great weather. Very proud of that. JP Patches did one of his last shows for us, well attended.

I am advising a new Domestic Violence accountability group on media, public records, and dealing with politicians and bureaucrats, the Washington Domestic Violence Commission, whose goal is to insure true victims get services, and to monitor the courts and their hangers-on who work hard (and spend your tax dollars) to separate good loving parents from their kids without justification while providing a good living to themselves and their consorts. So far, we have a Kingco judge on record calling one fellow “deranged”. Geez, I thought judges used to be lawyers, and they know better than to make records that can come back and bite them. We are having high fun keeping them accountable. Next up, we involve the She-riff (Sheriff Barbie, aka Susan Rahr) by making her investigate all the questionable accusations which all have sworn attestation that a crime was committed. I called the Barbie yesterday and gave her a heads up on that plan. When you don’t have power, and the other folks do, you have to go with guerilla tactics, and she understands that.

I wonder if that book I bought her for Christmas, or the following comment on her website that I made had anything to do with it? “Put Sheriff Barbie's pic back on the front page of your website. She is sorta hot, for an old broad.” You can put a uniform on the girlie, but you can’t take the grrl out of the uniform. For those of you who don’t know her, her pic can be found here:

Her reply was “How will I ever maintain my humility…” Flattery works, boyz.

Can’t finish without a shout out to my WSDOT friends. They said “no one will miss the viaduct”. Of course, they got it wrong again, I LIKE the viaduct. So, Travis Phelps, the viaduct teardown spinmeister, gave me a piece of said structure, inscribed “To the Geezer, for keeping us honest”. That I do.

I could tell more stories, but I won’t. It does remind me of the question……why do these folks keep doing business with you, when you always give them grief? Indeed, I just must be a charming cuss……or something.

Best to you all, thanks for reading, and look forward to another spew and blather next year.

1 comment:

Dragonfly51 said...

Very nice Christmas letter! The Geez has certainly had an interesting year.

The trip down the ski trails at Whistler was a bit harrowing! I think I would have preferred it with snow and with my skis on, but what is life without adventure?

Merry Christmas to all and may we all continue to live the lives we have been given to the fullest.

Patricia Lessard