Monday, May 25, 2015

miss pee-tunia

we watched her birth. the product of turbo and trixie. one of three of the cutest little basset puppies you've ever seen. petunia was the runt. and when the three of them reached adoption age and we placed ads to sell them, well, junior, a dead-ringer for his daddy, was the first to go. next was freckles. a cute little lady with very unique markings. almost like a brown spotted dalmation/basset. we could have placed petunia as well, but scooter, a freshman in college at that time, asked if he could have her. "i'll be moving into my own place soon. and i'd love to have her." of course, that pleased us greatly. and we quickly agreed. well, things don't always work out as intended. a few short months later we packed up and moved from flagstaff to oklahoma city. scooter and petunia in tow. along with, of course, me, hon, turbo, trixie, and family felines, lily and buster. and also not according to plan, scooter didn't move out into his own place right away. so his pup, petunia, became part of the large pet family. it was really fun watching petunia grow up with her mom. playing, romping. in stark contract to her father, petunia was loud and boisterous, impish yet loveable. and all along cute as a bug's ear. before scooter really had the opportunity to move out, hon had decided there was no way we could separate mom and daughter. petunia was ours. so three bassets it is. and three closely related but dramaticlt different basset personalities. turbo, almost stoic. serious, focused. trixie took on the alpha role. no doubt she was always in charge. and then petunia. the clown playful, biligerent, but the cutest look and the cutest way of approaching one. it was petunia that started the howling choir meets. at any random time she was inclined to start howling, inciting the other two to follow suit. they just couldn't help but. over the years this howling, baying choir serenaded tens of family members and friends with their resounding chorus of "happy birthday", all led by miss petunia. petunia was the first to greet me every morning. as i'd sit up to get out of bed, there she was. arrg-arrging at me. then rolling onto her back in hopes i'd spend a moment or two rubbing her cute little belly. i almost always did. wish i had done more of it. when she wanted human attention, she got it. sometimes getting up in your face if you were sitting, sometimes running around you when you were walking down the hall, just to dtop, drop and roll in front of you arrging boisterously insisting you give her that much cherished belly rub. she never changed in all that. even up through saturday. she worked us with her cutesy demeanor, insuring we would lavish her with the attention she craved. but sunday that stopped. around noon it was apparent that she wasn't normal. she was pacing, panting, and her stomach was constantly constricting. she wouldn't sit nor lie down. it was pacing and standing only. and panting. and she wouldn't eat. not even a treat, which she'd never before refused. we assumed that she had the classic basset malady. that being a digestive tract clogged somehow by something she'd ingested that she shouldn't ingest. when walking her, rubbing her, didn't work, we loaded her into the car and drove to the e.r. vet clinic. we expected x-rays, and knew they'd divulge the nature of the blockage. assuming all the while that, as has been the case with her and her mom on prior occasions, that meds over the course of a day or two would fix the problem. good as new in a day or two. we were wrong. the doc returned with the x-rays saying "there's nothing wrong with her stomach. but there is a very troubling abnormality." she then showed us the x-rays and it was clear that there was a rather large tumor which was likely attached to her spleen. surgery was an option, but one would generally expect that a tumor this size would have spread farther. there were two other options . . . . one which we didn't really want to consider, or even hear. the other was bring her home with pain meds, steroids, hoping to give her comfort enough to spend whatever time she had remaining being some sort of her normal self. of course, that's the option we chose. we brought her home. tried to feed her. gave her meds. but even the pain meds were failing to relieve her pain. she still couldn't tolerate sitting or lying down. she was hurting. and we knew. we called scooter, and knowing the inevitable outcome, he chose to come and visit her one last time. it was quite an emotional time for us all. and we fully expected that the meds would eventually coax her into sleeping. then we felt that, with some rest, she'd feel better. but there was no rest. no sleep. her pain was too much for her to bear. we took her back. the staff at the vet clinic was wonderful in their compassion and care. they outlined the course of action, and at almost exactly at 3:00 a.m., petunia felt relief from pain. and we were heart broken. this too shall pass. or so they say. but man, it's hard to love an animal and then have to let them go. i know most all of us have experienced this. but that still doesn't make it easy. and yes, it will pass. eventually. but right now we feel empty. a part or our existence is missing. rest in peace, miss pee-tunia. and thank you so much for the untold hours of entertainment you provided.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

my day - april 26, 2012

where shall i start? the cold? yeah, that's it. the cold.

the cold started in earnest monday afternoon. i tried to write it off as allergies at first. and at second. and even at third. to say that i was in denial was an understatement.

by middle of the night monday/tuesday, it was a cold. my face ached. my whole head felt heavy, drowsy and plugged up. and i got little, if any, sleep. so i did what anyone else would do. i called in sick tuesday morning and stayed home. and tried to sleep. but still had the same issues and slept very little. but that's the nature of the cold. i'll deal with it.

i was able to sleep fairly well tuesday night, so felt certain working wednesday would be no big deal. and it wasn't. well, it was trying. i was pretty tired. not really alert. but i got through the day. and i came home wednesday night and rested, slept some more, and expected myself to be back nearly to normal this morning.

sometimes things just don't work out as expected. i got up this morning sneezing, coughing, sneezing, coughing. and then i sneezed and coughed some more. and this was before i had my coffee and oatmeal. after that dandy breakfast? more of the same.

but dedicated to the task, i went to work. early. and surprisingly i coughed and sneezed a lot. in fact, i have a great idea here for those who may be fitness committed. if you want to develop six-pack abs, come on over and breath some of my air. i guarantee this coughing will, after a few days, develop better abs than any workout regimine. enough of that. oh, yeah, i stopped at a drug store on the way to work to see if i could find some nose tampons. they didn't know what i was talking about. was i dreaming that? such a great idea for times like these.

so i'm working away. pretty busy. and bev, a co-worker, is moving from one cubicle to another, and bev, as has been the case the last 8 times she's moved, ask me to move her "personal bulletin board". this is not a cork board as we know them, but a semi carpet covered board, perhaps 18 inches by 5 feet, that we all have. you can tack notes on them, or, as bev does, tack on pictures of every child, grandchild, great grandchild, husband, dog, boyfriend, and yes, even friend, she has ever had. that said to support the fact that bev's bulletin board will weigh at least 2-3 pounds more than an unburdened bulletin board.

but bev's a good ol' gal. she's brought in brownies before, and cookies, and makes this fabulous dish she calls scalloped corn that i have to try sometime. so i'm nothing but happy to help her move her bulletin board. normally.

let me tell you about my back. i first destroyed my back lifting something in 1983. since that time it seems that every 3-4 years i do something that, while it doesn't seem stupid at the time, feels that way afterward. and even though it's been a few years since i've had any major back issues, well, today was my day. and i blame it partly on bev, partly on kd.

now kd's a supervisor in another area of our building. she's a friend. and while transporting bev's bulletin board i stopped by kd's desk and visited for a minute. then i did something wrong. i picked up the bulletin board again, while it's standing, mind you, upright. i don't have to bend. and it doesn't weigh enough to really be lifting. but something in the lower right side of my back sent an immediate message to brain, "oh, %^^&, something just went wrong."

it wasn't terrible. it hurt sharply for a bit, then the pain diminished and i carried the board to bev's cube, hung the blasted thing, and went back to work. on the way, however, i stopped and told a couple of witnesses that i'd hurt my back, just so someone would know if i woke up in the morning unable to move.

well, i guess big companies don't work that way. one supervisor said you need to go to e.r. (not the emergency room, i later discovered, but employee relations.) oops.

so i go to e.r. talk to the e.r. director. and he calls our workers' compensation insurance carrier, reports the injury, then fills out this form and tells me i have to go to this urgent care joint, concentra, today to be checked out. really? today? ok.

i went back to my desk and worked a lot. real hard work. i worked really hard today. and about 2 p.m., when i finally stood up, well, back hurt worse than i'd expected it would. so i checked out and headed toward this concentra urgent care joint.

it was close. and that's convenient. in a strip mall that's been on the decline since 1979. no matter. i'll see a doc, get assessed, probably a prescription or two, be on my way. and that's sort of what happened.

i should state here that the names that follow have been changed to protect the identify of a couple of . . . . people.

so miss vickie, who obviously majored at smiling at the university of medical reception talents, greeted me, handed me two clipboards with documents to complete. and i did. and i took them back to vickie. and had a seat. and shortly miss vickie summoned me to the counter once again. what's your company name. i told her again. she can't find it. well, perhaps she couldn't spell west. or more realistically, i assume she was typing in the full corporate name rather than simply searching out all the "west" listings. ultimately she found it. and i sat again

a couple minutes later, miss vickie summoned me to the counter again. did i tell you my back was hurting pretty bad by now? again i hobbled over to her. and she said she'd forgotten to ask for my i.d. presented, back to my seat. and vickie summoned me again. "here's your i.d." does she understand what a bad back is?

in rather short order i'm taken back to the exam room. now the e.r. director had told me this visit would take 30-45 minutes. well, by now it's been 35 minutes, and i'm just getting there. and nurse peggy, a nice girl only 23 years old, greets me, checks my b.p. (that's blood pressure for you non medical types), (120/68), my temp (99.2 - i've got a cold, remember) and pulse rate (87). i seem all good. and she asked my age. and i told her. and she looked back at me over her shouder in shock. she said "i thought you were 50!" i sure enjoyed this part of the visit.

so nurse peggy hands me something paper with elastic on one side, two holes on the opposute, and said "take off your pants and put these on." they're not very fashionable. "but we might have to x-ray. or, the doc may need to examine your groin." ah, maybe not. but i shed my britches and donned the paper shorts nonetheless.

shortly there's a knock on the door (why do they knock. even if you're undressed, they're doctors. they've seen naked humans before.) and in walks doctor han. suddenly this idea of a groin examination is somewhat intriguing. she's not a bad looking gal, maybe 30. but really, at my age i feel like i'm looking at the female doogie howser. but she did a credible job examining me. asked the right questions - i've had back injuries before, remember. and overall does a nice bit of work. then the diagnosis . . . pulled muscle this time, not spinal. wow. after her explanation i agree with that. on to the treatment . . . 800 mg ibuprofen, 3 times a day. and flexoril "have you ever taken flexoril?" yes, i have. muscle relaxor that makes me very drowsy, for 24-36 hours. "well, it sometimes makes you drowsy. take 3 times a day as needed." huh? makes me drowsy? 3 times a day? and . . . work? hey steve, if i'm napping . . . . . it's workers' comp, remember?

and then the curve . . . "and physical therapy". now i've been through physical therapy, several different people, places, protocols, many times. and no, i'm not gonna do that. i can do these exercises at home and not waste an hour 3 times a week for six weeks. and, if it were skeletal, maybe. but muscle pull? don't think you wanna stretch that so much, do ya? i asked where? she said, "here." ah, another profit ploy. i declined. she said that i needed to see him once to be evaluated, workers' comp almost requires that. almost?

she further stated that he can probably see me right now. ok, we'll do that. so out i go to the counter where miss vickie checks with the pt dude and says "he says he'll be with you in 30-45 minutes." and i say, "you got the wrong guy. do you know what it's like to have a hurt back. i hurt. i'm not sitting here waiting for your guy to free up, in pain, so no. so i ended up agreeing to an appointment next week. that i think i'll cancel.

then miss vickie hands me two prescriptions. now i've been down this workers' comp road before. and i know that when i go to the pharmacy and present these prescriptions, the counter lady is gonna say "nothing here about workers' comp." so i mentioned that to miss vickie, and told her i needed something to evidence that claim. she said the rx sheet was all i need. i studied it, saw that i was probably right, so set out to the pharmacy.

alas, just as i suspected, my friend at walgreen's said "i have no evidence of workers comp for this." i know. can we call this concentra joint? "yep." and she calls, gets miss vickie, and miss vickie says she had nothing to offer besides the prescription. i'm getting a bit irritable.

so i called the office. talked to mister e.r. director, and he provided me with the name and phone number of someone to call at the insurance company. my friend, the pharm tech, called, talked to the guy, he gave her a different number, she called there, they said "we'll have to call you back."

if i could have kept from laughing at the absurdity of the entire matter, i'd have been really incenced. but i told my friend that i'd just come back tomorrow and settle it. but before i hit the door she paged me and had gotten the call back. prescripton authorized. i should ask her name. she's always very nice.

so here i sit. drugged on flexoril, in mild pain, planning what i'm gonna say when i call concentra tomorrow. open for suggestions.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

ode to facebook

after resisting the suggestion for several months, i finally succumbed to facebook something like two years ago. and i was immediately stricken. it was fun to have easy access to chats with friends, family. just as neat was getting reacquainted with old friends. classmates. folks from your past. and if you're not careful, facebook can captivate you. you can spend entirely too much time there.

i think that's probably something that happens to all of us. we have fun, we spend hours at a time. then the interest starts to wane and we ultimately get back to a normal existence.

but that doesn't mean we give up facebook entirely. it's still entertaining. but mostly these days i spend maybe half hour in the morning, half hour, maybe longer, in an evening, kabitzing with "friends" on facebook. it can be fun.

and facebook has provided an entirely different meaning to the word "friends". heck, i have "friends" i don't even know. some of them i'd really like to know. they're really nice people. they're witty and entertaining. and i often think that one day i'll run into some of them in real life.

case in point: while not entirely unknown to me, hubert lives in northern california. we knew each other as kids. his brother and i were great friends, and hubert was the little punk that we couldn't shake. well, we found each other on facebook somehow, had some fun exchanges, and ultimately other "friends", as well as family members, became such great friends with hubert that our daughter asked him to perform her wedding ceremony. so, after 40 some years, hubert and i met again. and he and his wife, brenda, are two of the nicest people i know. what a treat it was having him with our family during that incredible occasion.

there's frankie in florida, cheryl in washington, kim in new york, and many others that i would really consider actual friends - if we ever met. there's jeff, an old (oops, shouldn't say "old" in reference to jeff, but i'm sure he'll understand) high school classmate who's great to chat with. and many others. then add in a good group of people that are real friends, those i really know, that also enjoy facebook diatribes and it can get to be way too much fun.

there are a few. fortunately, a limited few, that get annoying. and i've just figured out that i can "unsubscribe" to them. i don't see their posts, and they don't even know i'm not viewing. sad to say i've done this to a few. i get a little tired of those that post tons of political rhetoric. even those that pretty much share my political opinions. i just don't need to see it all. then there are those that are just bitter at the world. i got tired of seeing all that as well. i just enjoy the light-hearted conversations. you're not gonna persuade me to believe your political stance is better than mine, your religious beliefs are better than mine, your nascar driver is faster than mine, by arguing your case on facebook.

and arguing? yeah, i've done a bit of that. and i regret doing so. arguing your point on facebook, even when you're right (of course i am), gains nothing but ill will. i've stopped that. again, it's the light-hearted i enjoy.

now we have the impending "timeline" threat. like it or not, come january 5th your profile page will be changed to the timeline format, so may as well change to it now. wait, on january 20 you'll automatically be changed to timeline. and if you don't do it yourself before that, facebook will select your picture arrangement, or some such nonsense. no, it'a gonna happen on february 5. oh, now it's february 15. and guess what. it still hasn't happened.

and there are tons who've said that if facebook forces them to switch to timeline, they'll switch to . . . google plus? is that it? or some other social media venue. of course, those threats have been voiced every time facebook has changed anything. fortunately, they all seem to re-think their position and most, if not all, have stayed. and i'd guess that when, or if, the timeline transition occurs, most or all will accept it and move on.

so to my facebook "friends" who might read this . . . thanks, it's fun. hope we can enjoy each other for a long time to come. oh, and to the 2-3 who unfriended me . . . it's ok. no hard feelings. i am curious as to why (well, i can guess why one of you did), but it's ok. i'm just having fun.

Friday, February 3, 2012

it's that time again

february 26. the 2012 edition of the daytona 500, the great american race. and i, for one, one of many, in fact, anxiously await this event every year at this time.

the daytona 500 is like no other race. well, passive race fans will say the july daytona race is pretty much the same, the two races at talladega. but none of those carries the tradition, the pomp, circumstance and excitement of the daytona 500.

then some will claim that the indianapolis 500 is far more exciting. well, no doubt it commands more attention. the daytona 500 is popular with a much smaller segment of the american public. it wasn't even mainstream til 1979. and still and yet, pretty much only nascar fans will tune in and watch flag to flag coverage.

well let me tell ya, if you're one of those that doesn't watch, you should. if you've ever enjoyed indy car racing, formula 1 racing, in fact, any kind of racing (even drag racing, jones) the daytona 500 will blow you away the first time you watch.

indy cars cruise around the brickyard at an average speed of 220 miles/hour. that's fast. but are those really cars? they more closely resemble airplanes without the big wing. the wheels are exposed, the cockpit has no lid, and for these and many other reasons the cars just can't race close. fast, yes. but with no fenders, if two of them brush sides? destruction.

nascar's daytona 500 is totally different. 43 cars racing 220 mph going into a turn with a front to back separation of . . . . . well, nothing. they bump. they touch. they even push. the aerodynamics of that much speed mean the two cars essentially hooked together in a "draft" will go faster than one car. so the trick is the car behind races barely touching the bumper of the car ahead. of course, therein lies the trick. barely. because if they touch too much, off center, or not just exactly right . . . bad results.

and these two cars, plus 20 or more other pairs, are racing attached to one another while off to the right side, or left side, or sometimes even both, another pair of cars is racing 3-4 inches away from their fenders. hopefully. frequently that 3-4 inches of open space disappears. that generally leads to a wreck. not always. but when it does, and if those cars are racing near the front of a 43 car field, the cars behind have to be able to stop, turn, veer, spin, or take some evasive action pretty darn quick. at 220 mph you cover a lot of ground in a very short time. and if they don't stop, turn, veer, spin, or take some evasive action, the end result is apt to be a pile up involving 20 cars. or more. it happens.

i've done a little stock car racing. not at 220 mph. not in a $200,000 specially constructed speedster. but even in my type of racing it was pretty stressful racing and rubbing. and while, to us, bumping and shoving wasn't likely to cause a big crash, it caused anger. which caused retaliation. which was likely to cause a big crash. it's sure gonna stimulate the flow of adrenaline. and excitement. and it's tons of fun.


but these guys at daytona?

go to youtube. search something like "daytona 500 finishes". watch a few. specifically the 79 race. then tune in on february 26. allow yourself at least 45 minutes to watch the thrill of the speed, the danger of the closeness, and the beauty of the pageantry. unless you're weak of heart, or just not a sporting fan, you're gonna enjoy.

Friday, April 15, 2011

well, that changes things

april 9, 2011. i stand behind the alter watching the back side of scooter's head as he watches his beautiful bride walking down the aisle. toward him. incredibly gorgeous in the wedding gown. but then, she's a gorgeous girl to begin with.

i cannot even imagine the sense of pride scooter felt. i can, however, fully comprehend the pride that coursed through me. my son, the one i thought i'd never have, the one i thought i might lose when he was 7, had really grown. he's taking a bride. and one day he'll likely be watching as his own son ties the proverbial knot as well.

anyone who's read any of my blog posts, the corny ones, the emotional ones, even a comical one or two, knows that i have a special relationship with scooter. but even then i was shocked when, a few weeks after announcing his engagement, he came to me and asked if i would be his "best man". what? my son asking me to stand up for him? i was stunned. yeah, i've always considered him my best friend. but the boy has lots of friends, his age, or nearly. what would make him ask me? never mind. i didn't want to ask that for fear he'd change his mind. that moment, when he asked me that question, stands among the proudest moments of my life. my short, full, life.

i immediately accepted. what an honor. my son's best man. what greater tribute can a son pay his father?

so i was there. up close and personal as scooter and tracie exchanged vows. it was an extremely emotional moment. somehow i managed to maintain my composure. got through it with just a hint of bleary eyes. i was nearly as proud of myself as i was of him.

and then came the reception. and not too far into it, the father/daughter dance. didn't impact me, did it? well, yeah, somewhat. i've been through that before. the first time, adri, the song was "daddy's little girl". i didn't know the words. and figured i'd simply cruise through a dance. by the end of the first verse we were both sobbing.

then came tori. and the same song. i was more prepared. still had a breakdown, but not nearly as severe as the first time.

but watching tracie and her dad dance brought a lot of that back. and i wasn't totally re-composed when the music stopped, started again, and the dj announced the groom/mother dance. and bette midler began singing "wind beneath my wings". did you ever know you were my hero? crap, i nearly lost it then. but i was in a dark corner. not an eye in the joint was on me.

so i got through all that. it was good. it was nice. lots of friends and family. wish more could have been with us. but those that could be there were there. and then it was over. scooter and tracie were whisked out to a limo, off to a hotel, and flew out early the next day for a fun filled honeymoon in san diego.

and through it all, i've been fine. but today scooter comes home from the honeymoon. they fly in any moment now, in fact. and for the first time i've had the startling realization that, when he gets home, he's her best friend now. no longer mine.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

it is what it is

i often wonder how the silly cliche's we use today ever originate. personally, i think for a long time most started with oprah. women watch her show, and phrases like "don't go there", "don't even go there" seem to be used, abused, in too many dialogs.

when my kids were i high school, the annoying term was "like". boog would come home from school and say something like . . . "jessica and i were like walking home and this guy like whistled." and as was my attempt to curb her from continuing the speech habit, i would ask something like . . . "was he "like whistling"? or was he really whistling?" after dozens of these attempts, i think boog was able to pretty much strike the "like" from her daily vocabulary.

thanks to oprah, again, my opinion, my wife and others all too frequently would use "don't go there/don't even go there". my developed response to this phrase was . . . "i'm not going anywhere. i'm standing right here before you talking. where do you think i'm going?" with slightly lesser results, but i try.

now the most over-used phrase in the american english language, in my humble opinion (imho, as i've learned, is the way that's expressed on facebook. i'm not a fan of abbreviating, so i'll fore go that.), is "it is what it is". huh? duh! what is that supposed to mean?

literally, "it is what it is" is a true statement of fact. everything is what it is. why bother stating that?

but what is generally meant by those that use/abuse the phrase is "that's the way it is and it can't be changed, so just accept it". i hear it so much at work, at play, at home, in the mall, it nearly infuriates me. it is what it is, my ass.

how many of us have seen that, just perhaps, there may be a better way of doing a certain task. at work. at home. in the grocery store. and all too often when we suggest that a procedure, a method, can be improved, we're simply told, "it is what it is". which really translates, in most instances, to "that's the way we've done it for a long time and i have not the time, the energy, or the know how to change it". but who's gonna admit that.

for some crazy reason i remember a news broadcast i saw way back in 1968. bobby kennedy was giving some kind of campaign speech. the one statement that struck me then, that sticks with me now, is this: "some see things as they are and ask why. i dream things that never were, and ask why not?" if more would adapt that kind of attitude, we'd never again hear the dreaded "it is what it is".

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

snow day


they're calling it a blizzard. perhaps worse than the christmas eve blizzard in 2009. worse because of the extreme cold temperatures. it's 8:32 a.m. real temperature is 9. wind gusting 40-60, meaning when you apply finnegan's finagling factor, the resulting wind chill is somewhere between 15 and 20 below zero. at that rate, frostbite begins to occur in 18 minutes. good to just stay inside.

the oklahoma city metro area has now had, depending on the exact area, between 7 and 12 inches of snow. roads are extremely slick. aided, no doubt, by the short period of freezing rain just before the snow started. not the best conditions to be driving through.

this kind of weather isn't really foreign to me. having lived in flagstaff for 18 years, i've traveled successfully in conditions like this, or worse even. but here it's a little different.

been watching the local news broadcasts all morning. just heard that the city has 25 snow plows. huh? for a city this size? flagstaff had near a hundred. of course, the frequency of these storms is much greater in flag. not a lot of need for them here. but that explains why very few roads are plowed. only major thoroughfares. and then, early on they only plow those that are designated "snow plowed routes".

what that means to me is that the neighborhood streets are pretty snowy. our cul de sac has drifts that i'd guess would be 18 inches deep. consistent level of 6 or so inches. and, as mentioned, i've driven in much worse. so most likely, driving slowly, cautiously, i have no doubt i could make the twelve mile drive to work. why then, have i declared it a snow day?

well, while i have a real high level of confidence in my ability to drive through these conditions, i'm not so sure about the other's guys ability. and having watched the "on street" tv reporters, it's abundantly clear that there are a lot of inexperienced foul weather drivers out there. and they can cause problems for others just as much as for themselves. further, again as evidenced by the tv reports, there are a lot of idiots out there. you know the type. they drive four wheel drive suv's and have an air of omnipotence. good traction justifies higher speed. and they appear to scoff at the cautious drivers as they speed by.

i lived in flagstaff for 18 years. i've seen these "idiots" before. i had an 8 mile drive to town on i-17 for several years. it always tickled me to see a nice, new escalade zip by my two wheel drive pickup on the freeway. more times than not, within a couple of miles i'd see that escalade in the median. buried in the deep snow. sometimes rolled over on its side. sometimes upside down. that four wheel drive grip will cause over overconfidence, you see. and what they don't realize is . . . ok they have greater traction. but when it comes to turning, stopping, they're no better than the rest of us. and their cockiness is rewarded by a crash.

so considering those people are out in good numbers, i've chosen to stay home today. well, that, together with the fact that the governor had declared a "state of emergency". both the governor and the mayor are asking all non-essential workers to stay home. don't risk the drive. i think that's a good idea. and i consider my work "non-essential".

the governor felt so strongly about this that she declared this state of emergency at about 4 p.m. yesterday. shortly there after our company vice president sent a mass email to all employees - asking us to be cautious, but do everything we can to get there. huh? is he kidding. i'm a loyal employee. i have a very good work ethic. but i'm a bit appalled that he would ask us to endanger ourselves in these conditions. wonder if he drives a four wheel drive suv.