Kaptain's Log

Return of the Blog

admin — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 15:21:11 +0000

Wow, it’s been nearly a year since I wrote one of these things. A whole lotta changes since then… The price of a barrel of oil has gone waayyyy down so has gas, but not as much. (Thanks for nothing Wall St.) When the economy tanked, so did the price of crude, and while the price at the gas pump has returned to a more manageable number, if it had kept pace with crude it would be around 1.35-1.55 a gallon. And if you’ve been paying attention of late, the price at the pump only reacts when oil goes up. It should be an interesting summer.

Barack Obama was elected President and is now somehow being blamed for a recession that started a good year before the election took place. We had a nice period of about 36 hours of unity, and then the various hacks were at it again, but the ones who crack me up are the ones who call it “The Obama Recession”. Yeah, because it was all running so smoothly up until January. And these same clowns crying “Socialism” at every turn would’ve probably tried to impeach FDR.

The Mets and Yankees both moved into new stadiums and while I’ve not had the pleasure of going to new Yankee stadium, I have been to Citi field and it is a wonderful place to see a ballgame. I’ve heard the complaints that it’s not “Mets” enough and while that has some validity to it, it’s like moving into a new house (and a really NICE new house to boot!) When you move in, you’re pictures aren’t already up. Your trophies aren’t on the mantle; your “kiss the cook” sign isn’t in the kitchen. It takes time to put these things in place and the Mets will achieve all this in good time. Now they just need to win some ball games.

My lovely girlfriend, about whom my first blog was written, was diagnosed with M.S. last summer. She’s fortunate in that she has not suffered any real deficits from it, and her medication has been quite effective in keeping it at bay. Plus, she’s as tenacious as they come, and has been giving her time and resources to help raise awareness to help others with M.S. And on that note, the M.S. walk will take place on May 3rd at Belmont Lake state park. I’d love it if everyone who reads this would go back to the WRCN.com main page and sign up for team WRCN you can walk, donate or both. And, you can join us out there on May 3rd. Hopefully, the weather will cooperate and we’ll have a nice day together while contributing to this great cause. And, I really cannot refer to her as my girlfriend anymore. This past Valentines day, she made me the happiest guy in the world by becoming my fiancée.

Random Thoughts

admin — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 17:38:11 +0000

… Been suffering from “Blogjam” lately. A lot of excess neural firings just building up between my ears. So here are a few in the hopes my brain will begin functioning again.

…With summer upon us, have you seen those commercials for Sylvan Learning Center? The one with the numbers and letters falling out of the kids’ ear as he “loses” a whole year of school? Then the next shot is of the kid and his mom happily entering what is essentially summer school, voluntarily!!! Can you imagine if your mom had tried that with you? She would’ve had to chain you to the bumper of the car just to get you there, and you would’ve set fire to the place the first chance you got!

… Or what about the spot that shows many elderly and (I’m guessing here) ignorant people mailing their unwanted gold to some place and then getting a check for the “full amount” O baby! How do I get in on THAT scam? And I just love the term “unwanted gold” like it’s just cluttering up their house. I imagine they have conversations like this: “Ow!, Dammit!” “What’s wrong dear?” “I just stubbed my toe again on that lousy unwanted gold we have, can’t we get rid of it?” Let me tell you, the only thing cluttering up my house that has ANY cash value are old Fresca cans. But if you have conversations like the previous one, just send your “unwanted gold” to me. I promise I’ll send you a check for the “full amount”.

… I was among those who thought it was time for Willie Randolph to exit the Mets dugout. But it’s obvious that mare than a managerial change is necessary to turn this team around. Two seasons ago, when the Mets fell behind it was never a big issue. Those guys couldn’t wait to get up at bat so they could beat you. Now, as soon as a couple of guys get on base they start to fold. And once they’re behind, fuhgeddaboudit. This team needs a heart implant not a transplant.

… So long George Carlin. Thanks for the million laughs.

Lost and Found

admin — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 11:56:02 +0000

Okay, well there’s no “and found” part of this, because things that are lost around our house generally stay that way. But I figured if I called this one “Lost” you’d think I was writing about the TV show, which I have never seen. I know this pretty much makes me a social outcast, because seemingly the rest of the earths populace wait in front of their sets for each weeks’ episode, but I just don’t find the show’s premise appealing. The same goes for ”Heroes” I actually tried to watch an episode once, I found myself bored beyond comprehension, like when I took an 8am statistics class in 1979. Only this time, my friend Jeff was not around to swipe the answers to the final and deliver me from this mind numbing subject matter. I actually don’t care for about 99.9% of what comes out on TV today. I find myself more and more turning to the solace of favorite old re-runs, instead of killing brain cells by exposing them to the plethora of crap the networks throw-against-the-wall-to-see-if-it-sticks today. I figure if I want to kill brain cells, there’s always beer. Even for the few shows I do watch, the sand is running out of the hourglass. The Shield is going into it’s final season in September, as is E.R. (although to be truthful, E.R.’s fictional County General has remained in operation longer than most real hospitals.) And I keep thinking that each year will be the last for The Simpson’s. So what am I left with? Well, there’s Law & Order SVU which I watch to see which stories are lifted from the pages of Newsday, and a certain libidinal attraction to Mariska Hargitay, Survivor, which Meag got me into, ditto for Desperate Housewives. So throw in Family Guy and South Park and that’s it: Ninety minutes of Cartoons and 5 other shows, that in order to see I have to deftly maneuver my remote around the hundreds of steaming piles of “quality programs” the networks leave on my TV schedule like so many stray dogs on my lawn. You know, this was supposed to be a blog about how Meag “lost” my pool pass and how I had to lay out 10 bucks for a new one. But that idea, like so many other things around our house, is now hopelessly lost.

Drive Time

admin — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 19:17:01 +0000

Well here it is, the summer driving season is upon us and with 4 + dollar a gallon gas it seems that they’ll be fewer of us driving. As someone who commutes roughly 50 miles a day, all I can say is Yah-freakin-hoo! I take the L.I.E. for the majority of those miles and I can tell you that most of the drivers I encounter are pros. You have to be because traveling at those speeds it just takes 1 idiot (and trust me, there is ALWAYS 1!) to screw things up. As an example, at least once a week I will see someone go from the left lane all the way over to the exit ramp just before exit 60, probably going to the Ronkonkoma train station. It’s as if they never knew the exit was there, or possibly thought it moved to the left side of the expressway. This will inevitably be the same person who, traveling westbound in the far right lane of 347 in Nesconset will suddenly lurch across 3 lanes of traffic as if to say “Whoa! Since when is the Smith Haven Mall on THAT side of the street?” I spent some time as an airborne traffic reporter in the early 1990’s and I’ve seen that one stupid maneuver screw up traffic for miles. Then, you’ll have the person who thinks that the 55 mile an hour speed limit was one of the things Moses brought down with him from the mountain. This person will drive (usually wearing a hat) in the left or HOV lanes driving at precisely 55 miles an hour. It’s as if they were driving the bus from the film Speed, and to go 56 would cause them to explode. I’ve got a request for these people: if you insist on doing 55, do it in a more appropriate place, like the far right lane, or perhaps another state altogether. That brings us to the final topic for today: Out of state drivers. Time was, when you saw someone commit an act of stupidity on the road, you could bet there’d be a Jersey license plate on the vehicle, but times have changed. More and more I keep seeing Pennsylvania tags on those suspect drivers cars. Perhaps the Keystone state is teaching folks to drive like the Keystone Kops. My theory? It’s guy’s from Jersey, crossing the state line to register their cars. But no matter what state you’re from, if you’re coming to Long Island this summer, I think I speak for all of us who must travail the Islands roads each day when I say: Welcome, thanks for visiting. Now please, take the L.I.R.R., or a cab, or the Jitney. Just whatever you do, stay out of my way.

Remember

admin — Fri, 23 May 2008 10:22:53 +0000

For those who have been reading this blog so far, you’ve probably realized that I’m usually sarcastically ranting about one thing or another. But not today, I’ll go back to being silly and irresponsible next week. I was struck by my colleague Glenn’s blog about the true meaning of Memorial Day, and I realized he has a point, we have forgotten what this day is about. Earlier this month, I went out to pay my respects to my Mom on Mothers day. She and my Dad are at L.I. National Cemetery in Pinelawn. But this year, for the first time I decided to also visit the graves of my paternal grandparents. I never met either of them. My grandma passed on in 1957, three years before I was born and my grandpa in 1941. I was looking for their headstone, and because grandpa died in ‘41 there he’s in an area with a lot of men who were killed in action, or missing and found later. So as I walked, I read their names and the places they served, and where they met their end. They were all of varying ages, faiths, and ethnic backgrounds, but with one common denominator, all died in service to our country. I came upon one headstone that was different. If you’ve ever been to the veterans’ cemetery, you know that all the stones are of equal size and are lined up with military precision. This stone however, was double sized. I wondered why. Perhaps it was a general or someone of historical significance. When I saw the front, I got my answer. It was the final resting place of the entire crew of a plane that was shot down over Germany. I read all their names and was struck by the enormity of this. I found myself wondering about them, who they were, what they were like, what they wanted to be. I continued to walk, seeing the names of those who had perished in WWI, WWII, Korea, Vietnam, and even 1 from Grenada. I thought about them, and all those now, who had been killed serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. All of them, giving the ultimate sacrifice, to preserve our way of life. Think about that for a bit this weekend. I don’t want you to cancel your barbecues, ballgames or any of that. But, without being maudlin, maybe fill up a glass for the fallen and leave it at the head of the table, say a few words and offer up a toast in their honor. I think they’d appreciate that. Because no matter who is attending the party, it really is for those who gave all.

Jingle All The Way

admin — Thu, 22 May 2008 12:55:48 +0000

So have jingle writers become extinct? It seems these
days that classic rock songs are ubiquitous on radio
and TV commercials now? There have always been
instances of songs being used to sell product, but
usually the tune was put with new lyrics to reflect
the product (a fine example is Good Vibrations being
used to sell Sunkist orange soda in the 80’s) so at
least someone had to come up with an idea so that
there was a connection to what was being sung, and the
product that was being sold. Now I think they just
look through a catalog to see which songs have been
licensed and just throw them on a commercial. I mean,
what in the heck do singing animals have to do with a
Jeep Liberty, and if these animals could sing, why in
the hell would they sing “Rock Me Gently” by Andy
Freakin’ Kim??? It’s a terrible song. And just what
does “Let it Bleed” by The Stones have to do with
Amstel light anyway??? Do those hippie wannabees break
their Amstel bottles and stab the nasally sounding guy
with the guitar? And why or why in the name of Paul Bunyan’s
Great blue balls would they use Deep Purple’s “Hush” to sell Jaguars?
Wouldn’t “Highway Star” be about a billion times more appropriate to sell a car with?
Here’s an idea for ad agencies everywhere: Be Creative! Or, at least re-write the
lyrics so there’s some semblance of rationale with regard to the song that’s
playing and the product being sold.

124.9

admin — Mon, 19 May 2008 12:13:25 +0000

No, that’s not a new radio frequency. To me, that’s what the price of a gallon of gas should be. I just filled up my tank and it cost me $82.00 In the past, I have driven to Florida and not spent 82 bucks on gas! If your like me and got your drivers license in the 70’s you remember really cheap gas. (After I got my license, the first tank of gas I ever put in my ‘68 Plymouth Fury III cost me 11 dollars!) You also remember the oil embargo that led to gas lines, odd-even plate rationing, the Ford Pinto and the Chevy Vega! Remember people swearing that if the price of gas ever hit a dollar a gallon they would just stop buying it? I think that those same people now would gladly donate a kidney if the price of gas would go back to a dollar a gallon again! Even 2 dollars a gallon, which seemed unthinkable only a decade ago, now seems like a great bargain. But for most of the past three decades, I remember gas usually being around 124.9 a gallon. It was a nice number; you got 4 gallons for 5 bucks, 8 for ten, and so on. Remember OPEC? How every mention sent a shiver down your spine in fear the evil oil overlords would have one of their meetings and raise the price of a barrel of crude oil, thus raising the price at the pump? Whatever happened to OPEC anyway? These days, they’re about as intimidating as Fidel Castro. It seems that the free market (Wall Street) seized control of gas and oil prices awhile back and never let up. Remember when the price of gas really jumped up after Hurricane Katrina? We were told that the reason for this was that the storm had knocked out a large portion of our refineries in the Gulf of Mexico. Those refineries came back, and the price went down a bit, but then jumped up again when the threat of storms that could knock out the refineries made investors jittery. Nope, it’s no longer OPEC, but Wall Street that determines what you pay at the pump. Every day we are told supplies are up, use is down. But the price goes ever upward. Speculators fear tensions in the Persian Gulf Could lead to an interruption in supply, political instability in Venezuela, the banking crises, the Mets get rained out, Warren Buffet stubs his toe, pretty much anything causes speculators to get jittery and raise the price. (Maybe they should play some nice Perry Como music at the NYSE, and switch their coffee to de-caf, to keep these guys from being so jittery) And, to further illustrate just how toothless OPEC has become, last week they upped production by 300,000 barrels a day and Wall Street just sniffed and the price went up. Following that the President announced that we would no longer be adding to the strategic oil reserve, further increasing the supply. The price of gas? It went up again! What’s the answer here? I guess it would be great if one of those “don’t buy gas for one day” e-mails we all get from time to time actually worked, but we as a people are far too unorganized to ever get it together like that. And even if we did, they know we’re going to come back. They have us over a barrel, so to speak. So maybe it’s time the folks in D.C. to do something here. Me, I’m gonna start planting corn.

Entry I

admin — Thu, 15 May 2008 19:05:06 +0000

Welcome to the first in what might be a continuing series of musings and ruminations from the mind of a head full of useless information. Well here we are, 2008 an election year here in the good ol’ U.S. of A. and one of the hot topics is once again health care. Here in America we currently have a system in place that, depending on whether you have insurance, can ensure you’re fixed up in a jif, or possibly left in the hallway of the E.R. for 7 hours. More on that later. Our neighbor to the north has a system that, according to some, if implemented here would result in no small time in piles of dead or dying Americans rotting in the sun. My brother spent the better part of last summer driving through Canada, en route to Alaska and he didn’t report seeing any large piles of dead Canadians anywhere, they actually seem fairly happy with their system. But I digress, the thinking here in the U.S. is that if you’re lucky enough to have health care, you’ve got no worries. But a lot of how you do simply depends on how lucky you get when choosing your Physician. I myself, have been quite fortunate in the area of Dr.s and hospitals. My children were both born at St. Charles and I have spent many hours in the E.R.’s of both St. Charles and Mather and have always received excellent care. The Doctors at my primary care physicians office are wonderful, professional, caring Doctors. For example, being as overweight as I am, with a family history of heart disease, I am still actually alive. Whereas, If I’d received the same level of care my girlfriend received last week, I’d be getting my first guitar lesson from Hendrix right now. I want to say for the record, my girlfriend is the healthiest person I’ve ever met. My children will come over routinely harboring germs colonies of the latest strain of strepta-cocta-pnumonia-bronchial-pox, and she never, EVER, gets sick. I imagine her corpuscle’s have little Wonder Woman bracelets on them, effortlessly swatting away germs and laughing. So it was a source of some concern last month,when she began to complain of feeling disoriented and dizzy. At first I thought it was due to florescent lighting, or perhaps she was spending too much time at her desk staring at the computer. But after a week off the condition persisted. She went to see her original Primary care Physician, a person for whom the initial part of Hippocrates oath (First, do no harm) meant, play it safe, don’t do anything. He pretty much dismissed her systems and told her she was fine, but should probably have blood work done. Last Monday, she went to see a new Dr. someone who asked questions and seemed to be genuinely concerned, that something perhaps might be wrong. He followed up by referring her to specialists who;d be better able to asses her condition. Unfortunately, her condition got worse, and Wednesday, she had to be hospitalized. At this point, I want to express my gratitude to the folks from the Fire dept. in our town, who responded to our home and took
her to the hospital. As it turned out, this was the best care she would receive that day. When we arrived at the hospital they took one last check of her vitals before turning us over to the E.R. staff. I won’t mention the Hospital’s name here, only that their E.R. is named for a beer distributor, which turned out to be a clever marketing ploy on their part as I has to chug down the better part of a case later that night to quell my anger at the lack of treatment and attention she received. She arrived at 3:45pm and things started badly when she was left in the hallway because there were no rooms available,but we were told she’d get one soon. “Soon” at this place must have some other meaning, because over the next 6 and a half hours she was left in the hallway, even though many rooms opened up time and again, often remaining empty for nearly an hour. We were greeted by Jabba-the-nurse, who immediately chastised her for crying. I imagine she thought that when you’re stricken with an unknown ailment that leaves you unable to raise your head off the pillow or walk across the room without falling, you should just greet that with a cheerful smile and a song. When told she needed to use the restroom, Jabba replied “OK…go” When informed that she was unable to walk without falling over I was told to escort her. (I should point out here that I have severe osteo-arthitis in both knees and walk with a cane) Well with the help of my girls Dad, who had recently arrived, we got her to and from the loo. When my girl threw up, it was I who got to carry her little bucket around trying to find someone to help empty it. Finally, Jabba looked at me and directed me to a waste closet where I could empty and clean the bucket. An E.R. Doctor came over to see her. This person, and the guy who cleaned the floors were the only two competent, caring people we encountered that whole time. She gave her some medicine, which didn’t relieve the dizziness, at least took away the nausea. ordered blood work and a cat scan, the blood work was done almost immediately, the cat scan, well it took a while. As the hours began to roll by I approached Jabba to see what the hold up was. “That’s a different department” I was told, which really isn’t an answer. When I asked if she could find out when we might be seen I was again told, only more slowly as if perhaps I didn’t understand her the first time, “That’s a different department”, as if it was located in another town. This different department was maybe a 15 foot walk from her desk. I got the feeling Jabba wasn’t fond of walking. I say this because over the hours we were there I saw her get up maybe 4 times. I did get to hear her describe, in great detail, the doings of practically EVERY reality show on television to her colleague’s, perhaps this is part of her job description. Anyway a little later on she ambled by to tell us we had to leave for an hour, as our presence would adversly affect their shift change. I asked if my girl would receive her CAT scan during this time and was told no, they were far too busy during shift change Not wanting to mess up this smooth running machine I left. During this time the Dr. came by and when asked when she could leave, told my girl that as soon as she got her CAT results she could go. When told she hadn’t yet even gotten the CAT scan, the Dr. got a look of exasperation across her face and left and very soon after that, she was taken for her CAT scan. I returned precisely an hour later, relieved to find that her test was done, but miffed that she was still in the hallway. She was told she’d have the results of her CAT in 30 to 60 minutes. We waited patiently, but apparently during shift change my girlfriend developed the power of invisibility, because no one ever came up to her. After 90 minutes I asked the nurse for some help and got none. After 2 hours I asked another nurse who walked away and 2o minutes later came back and told us the test looked fine and as soon as the Dr. signed off on it we were free to go. After another half hour. my girl staggered over to the nurses desk and asked for a little assistance in getting signed out by thr Dr. “Who’s your Dr.?” they asked. “I don’t know, no one has been to see me since shift change” Well where do they have you. “ARE YOU KIDDING?” (she was getting a bit excited now) “I AM RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR DESK, AS I’VE BEEN FOR THE LAST 6 HOURS!!!” The Dr. must’ve heard this because he came over shortly thereafter, looking like the late Wally Cox as Mr. Peepers and stammering just the same (I think the stammering was because he was afraid my girl would eviscerate him if he didn’t help her) He told us things we already knew and said he would write us a prescription for the medication she’d been given earlier. I said that was great except that it was now after 10 pm and there were no 24 hour pharmacy’s near where we live. He said that the hospital does not dispense medicine and that we should wait until morning. I tried to explain to him that once what she’d taken had worn off, she’d be virtually unable to move and this would make obtaining the script very difficult he must’ve felt empathy for me. (Or perhaps it was the extremely homicidal look in my girls eyes which convinced him). Either way we were soon on our way home with an extra dose of medicine. So after nearly 7 hours there it was. 1 blood test, 1 cat scan and a dose of medicine. Combine the time for those and it’s maybe 25 minutes. And we still don’t know what’s wrong with her. We have an appointment with a specialist this week. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.