I've been wanting to write this for every bit of the last week. And yet, a part of me wanted to never write it. This past week has been chock full of emotional quicksand and I wanted to male sure, out of self-preservation, I could sit down and work on this without losing my shit. To be honest, my original open for this was going to be a disclaimer about how; if I didn't make you cry reading this, or at least put a lump in your throat, I'd fail at my craft.
I don't feel that way now.
For the most part.
Starting the week early, the Reigning Princess marked a birthday last Saturday. Double digits, no less. Regular readers will recognize the bittersweet aspect of an event like this. But that kid and her megawatt smile can go a long way towards smoothing rough edges.
Monday was a wild ride. In no particular order -
I picked up prescription refills for Sophie's many ailments. Among other things, these make it easier for her to go on our walks together. Which often reminds me of how much Diane would have loved taking her on those walks.
I took our local (ish) pink fire truck (engine) to her new home in Rock Falls, IL. I wrote about how awesome the people are out there and this just reinforces it to me.
I pre-signed the closing papers for the sale of the Wonder Lake house. I wrote about putting the house on the market last year and the deal is finally done. It's a huge burden off my shoulders financially and a smaller burden emotionally. I've been out of the house for over five years, so I've had plenty of time to get used to that, but still...
Speaking of having time to absorb an event; it was also 14 years since the crash that took Caitlin. That sounds a little flippant and, of course, this is not a topic I take lightly. But the fact remains it's been a long time and we've had a lot of practice at dealing with all the various mutations of life with a loss. Time has turned the flood of emotions into a leaky faucet. Metaphorically.
So that took care of my Monday.
Tuesday was a meeting, Wednesday, the 14th anniversary of Caitlin's death, Thursday was (due to the organ transplant timeline) 14 years to the last time we saw her. You get the idea. I recognized, after the fact, there were a few times I was glad I was by myself for the most part. My human interaction skills had eroded a little bit, at least temporarily.
So, it took me a while to get back to where I was ready (ish) to write about the week.
Now, to prove to you that I've come 180 degrees from wanting you to cry, I'm going to share a story to make you laugh.
Several years ago, we had a particular frequent flyer, a blind guy that was also diabetic. He was common knowledge around the FD or so I thought, since he had been racking up miles before I got hired there. On one occasion we were called because his blood sugar was very low. I don't recall what it was, but he wasn't near functional when we arrived. As I recall, his brother-in-law lived with him at the time, to help around the house as needed. Now, this patient was frequently unpleasant to deal with, but, for whatever reason, I always got along with him. We got his sugar up to a normal level and he didn't want (or need) to go to the hospital so my partner at the time; ohhh let's call him "Dan" was getting the refusal form ready. I was seated on our patients left side. The BIL brought out a sandwich to help in stabilizing the patients sugar. I told the patient exactly where I placed the sandwich and he reached for it and started eating. "Dan" had the form ready and handed the laptop to our patient so he could sign.
I looked at "Dan".
He looked back at me blankly as he told the patient to sign and we'd leave.
I looked at "Dan"
He waved the laptop impatiently in front of our patient.
I looked at "Dan" and said "Uhhh he's blind 'Dan'"
"Dan" said "Here's where I need you to sign" loudly. Check that, VERY LOUDLY
I helpfully pointed out to him "'Dan' he's blind, NOT deaf!"
Our patient, the rest of our crew, pretty much everyone in the room aside from "Dan" was laughing hysterically.
Ahhh firehouse stories, is there nothing sacred?
Short answer? Nope.
Peace
Monday, May 29, 2017
Sunday, May 14, 2017
Mom... Mom... Mom... Mom... Mom...
I wanted to write something badly today, here's hoping it doesn't turn out that way...
Sophie and I just got back from our morning walk, and with Townes Van Zandt as a back drop (highly recommended for a little light Sunday morning listening btw) I've been reflecting on today. Social media and recollection tells me this is the first Mothers Day for several of my friends without their Moms.
It won't be an easy day for you if this is the case, please know my thoughts are with you.
So naturally I think today (pretty much every day, really, but you get the picture) of my own Mom, gone for five of these, and Diane, gone for eleven of them, and I think of how fortunate I am. To have had them both as such important parts of my life and to have learned so much from them, about life in general and myself in particular.
Diane taught me so many things, among them (a lesson I need to improve on) the importance of making a big deal out of someone on "their" day as this story illustrates.
From Mom I learned how to quickly get over it. I can be pretty quick tempered sometimes (no comments from the gallery) but I tend to also quickly realize the futility of keeping that flame stoked. She also taught me how important it is to be able to laugh at oneself. That alone is probably the best thing she did for me.
I also think of my daughters and the amazing women they are. To the Oldest One and the Quiet Child; you are doing an incredible job raising smart, funny, sweet, hard-working kids and I couldn't be prouder of who they are becoming. And, to #PhoJoMama; in addition to the above, you're faced with the added task of wrangling the Boy Child.
A.) I know how far from the tree that apple landed.
B.) I'm sorry.
I'm really glad I got to see the three of you yesterday, I hope your Day is filled with wonderfulness because each of you deserves nothing less and I love you all.
Now on to the Public Service Annoouncement portion of our program.
For all you first-time Dads observing your first Mothers Day. I recognize this may be a tad late in the game but just in case (or for future reference) make sure you review your plan for the day. Do what she wants and not what you think she wants. There's a difference, believe me. It's the least you can do.
Btw don't ever say "it was the least I could do" when she thanks you. Just sayin. This woman bore your kids for chrissake. Do something special for her, especially today.
Also, unless you're in different Zip Codes (and probably not even then) don't ever say "she's not my Mother" as a reply to almost anything related to today. If you do, well, I don't think celebrate means *skypoint to Inigo Montoya* what you think it means.
If your significant other has any type of adjective in front of "Mom" disregard it. Please. For your own sake as well as that of humanity at large. Hell, even if you're divorced, if your kids still spend any amount of time with her, ensure that they do something nice for their Mother. I don't care what type of words you use to describe her the rest of the year, it takes very little effort to be an actual human being instead of an "ex" for such a short time. Whether she appreciates it or not is irrelevant.
Just be a better human being.
It reflects well on your own Mother and that, above all else, is what today is about, right?
Alright, I've got flowers to get and a couple cemetaries to visit. If your Mom is here, make sure she knows how much she means to you.
If she's not, think back on how she made you who you are.
And thank her.
I love you El.
Peace
Sophie and I just got back from our morning walk, and with Townes Van Zandt as a back drop (highly recommended for a little light Sunday morning listening btw) I've been reflecting on today. Social media and recollection tells me this is the first Mothers Day for several of my friends without their Moms.
It won't be an easy day for you if this is the case, please know my thoughts are with you.
So naturally I think today (pretty much every day, really, but you get the picture) of my own Mom, gone for five of these, and Diane, gone for eleven of them, and I think of how fortunate I am. To have had them both as such important parts of my life and to have learned so much from them, about life in general and myself in particular.
Diane taught me so many things, among them (a lesson I need to improve on) the importance of making a big deal out of someone on "their" day as this story illustrates.
From Mom I learned how to quickly get over it. I can be pretty quick tempered sometimes (no comments from the gallery) but I tend to also quickly realize the futility of keeping that flame stoked. She also taught me how important it is to be able to laugh at oneself. That alone is probably the best thing she did for me.
I also think of my daughters and the amazing women they are. To the Oldest One and the Quiet Child; you are doing an incredible job raising smart, funny, sweet, hard-working kids and I couldn't be prouder of who they are becoming. And, to #PhoJoMama; in addition to the above, you're faced with the added task of wrangling the Boy Child.
A.) I know how far from the tree that apple landed.
B.) I'm sorry.
I'm really glad I got to see the three of you yesterday, I hope your Day is filled with wonderfulness because each of you deserves nothing less and I love you all.
Now on to the Public Service Annoouncement portion of our program.
For all you first-time Dads observing your first Mothers Day. I recognize this may be a tad late in the game but just in case (or for future reference) make sure you review your plan for the day. Do what she wants and not what you think she wants. There's a difference, believe me. It's the least you can do.
Btw don't ever say "it was the least I could do" when she thanks you. Just sayin. This woman bore your kids for chrissake. Do something special for her, especially today.
Also, unless you're in different Zip Codes (and probably not even then) don't ever say "she's not my Mother" as a reply to almost anything related to today. If you do, well, I don't think celebrate means *skypoint to Inigo Montoya* what you think it means.
If your significant other has any type of adjective in front of "Mom" disregard it. Please. For your own sake as well as that of humanity at large. Hell, even if you're divorced, if your kids still spend any amount of time with her, ensure that they do something nice for their Mother. I don't care what type of words you use to describe her the rest of the year, it takes very little effort to be an actual human being instead of an "ex" for such a short time. Whether she appreciates it or not is irrelevant.
Just be a better human being.
It reflects well on your own Mother and that, above all else, is what today is about, right?
Alright, I've got flowers to get and a couple cemetaries to visit. If your Mom is here, make sure she knows how much she means to you.
If she's not, think back on how she made you who you are.
And thank her.
I love you El.
Peace
Sunday, May 7, 2017
Foibles from the firehouse. And in real life too.
It has been pointed out to me recently, several times, gleefully, by the lovely fellows I share a firehouse with, that I have a few quirks. They take great joy in pointing these things out to me. So, since I'm not at all shy about poking fun at others, I figured it was time to have a little laugh at my own expense.
And I'd like to take just a second to ask any of you that are brave enough to add any of the little things you do, for no rational reason other than some unknown compelling factor, in the comments either here or on the social media that brought you here. C'mon now people, don't leave me hangin' (s/o to BVR) in the wind. Participate.
For starters, at our station in the "high-rise district" a while back a small, table lamp showed up. Kind of a Prairie style, maybe 15" or 18" tall and maybe 6" or 8" square, it's hardly noticeable. I'm not sure where it came from; someone brought it in from home, maybe from another station, heck maybe it was garbage picked. I don't know and I don't care. When I get in to work it's usually early enough that the crew that precedes us is still bunked out. The dayroom (where we watch tv for you non-firehouse types) is dark except for this lamp. Photo credit to Bob Barc btw.
The lamp casts a soft, warmish glow around its little corner of the world as it does what lamps do. It creates no havoc. Just sits there adding light to an otherwise dark room.
Until I get there. Because, invariably, the first thing I do is mutter something under my breath, walk over and unplug the lamp, grabbing it by the cord and setting it on the floor next to the table that acts as its home.
I don't know why. The lamp never did anything to me. As lamps go, it's a fine lamp, I suppose. I just don't like it. This behavior has, of course, a consequence and in this case I've been assured that once I hit where ever it is I'm going to spend my retirement, the guys that work the shift before me are going to ship the lamp to me. A parting gift I suppose. I told them I'll either send them pictures of the lamp smashed and lying in a dumpster or send each of them a piece of the lamp after I smash it into oblivion.
Ok, one down.
This one became familiar to me a while ago. I may have even mentioned it in one of my posts here, I'm not sure. You know how dishwashers have a silverware rack? Our machine has that device on the bottom shelf and it's positioned perpendicular to the door. It has several smaller racks for holding silverware. Without fail, the first two racks are filled, while the remaining racks sit unused and apparently unloved. Until I voiced my displeasure at this. Now it prompts either giggling or snark or both from the guys I work with or, in the event we've got a new guy cycling through, warnings to him that unless he wants to witness "Angry Joel" he should be careful loading the dishwasher.
"Angry Joel" is not a thing btw. I'm one of the nicest, kindest, gentlest... oh hell, I can't lie to you like that. Hey nobody is perfect, right? At least I'm able to acknowledge my quirks, you know?
Also, "quirks" sounds so much nicer than Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, doesn't it?
Last thing, I think. We do a decent job of getting our new guys up and running in our department imho. But I'd like to add at least one more thing to their training curriculum. I'd call it - "How To Remove Lint From The Lint Trap In The Dryer". this is apparently needed because I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES I'VE HAD TO EMPTY THE EFFING LINT TRAP ON THE GODDAMN DRYER. btw that didn't start out all caps but when I looked at it, it felt about right so ima leave it right there for you. Anyway, you'd think firefighters, of all people, would know that's actually an unsafe act as it leads directly to things like, ohhh, DRYER FIRES.
Just sayin'
Ok, kids, once again, here's your chance, light em up with your own quirky behavior. Or, if you don't want to do that, here's your chance to add one of mine that I may have "forgotten". Fire away.
Peace
And I'd like to take just a second to ask any of you that are brave enough to add any of the little things you do, for no rational reason other than some unknown compelling factor, in the comments either here or on the social media that brought you here. C'mon now people, don't leave me hangin' (s/o to BVR) in the wind. Participate.
For starters, at our station in the "high-rise district" a while back a small, table lamp showed up. Kind of a Prairie style, maybe 15" or 18" tall and maybe 6" or 8" square, it's hardly noticeable. I'm not sure where it came from; someone brought it in from home, maybe from another station, heck maybe it was garbage picked. I don't know and I don't care. When I get in to work it's usually early enough that the crew that precedes us is still bunked out. The dayroom (where we watch tv for you non-firehouse types) is dark except for this lamp. Photo credit to Bob Barc btw.
The lamp casts a soft, warmish glow around its little corner of the world as it does what lamps do. It creates no havoc. Just sits there adding light to an otherwise dark room.
Until I get there. Because, invariably, the first thing I do is mutter something under my breath, walk over and unplug the lamp, grabbing it by the cord and setting it on the floor next to the table that acts as its home.
I don't know why. The lamp never did anything to me. As lamps go, it's a fine lamp, I suppose. I just don't like it. This behavior has, of course, a consequence and in this case I've been assured that once I hit where ever it is I'm going to spend my retirement, the guys that work the shift before me are going to ship the lamp to me. A parting gift I suppose. I told them I'll either send them pictures of the lamp smashed and lying in a dumpster or send each of them a piece of the lamp after I smash it into oblivion.
Ok, one down.
This one became familiar to me a while ago. I may have even mentioned it in one of my posts here, I'm not sure. You know how dishwashers have a silverware rack? Our machine has that device on the bottom shelf and it's positioned perpendicular to the door. It has several smaller racks for holding silverware. Without fail, the first two racks are filled, while the remaining racks sit unused and apparently unloved. Until I voiced my displeasure at this. Now it prompts either giggling or snark or both from the guys I work with or, in the event we've got a new guy cycling through, warnings to him that unless he wants to witness "Angry Joel" he should be careful loading the dishwasher.
"Angry Joel" is not a thing btw. I'm one of the nicest, kindest, gentlest... oh hell, I can't lie to you like that. Hey nobody is perfect, right? At least I'm able to acknowledge my quirks, you know?
Also, "quirks" sounds so much nicer than Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, doesn't it?
Last thing, I think. We do a decent job of getting our new guys up and running in our department imho. But I'd like to add at least one more thing to their training curriculum. I'd call it - "How To Remove Lint From The Lint Trap In The Dryer". this is apparently needed because I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES I'VE HAD TO EMPTY THE EFFING LINT TRAP ON THE GODDAMN DRYER. btw that didn't start out all caps but when I looked at it, it felt about right so ima leave it right there for you. Anyway, you'd think firefighters, of all people, would know that's actually an unsafe act as it leads directly to things like, ohhh, DRYER FIRES.
Just sayin'
Ok, kids, once again, here's your chance, light em up with your own quirky behavior. Or, if you don't want to do that, here's your chance to add one of mine that I may have "forgotten". Fire away.
Peace
Friday, May 5, 2017
Technology - 427 Me - 0
Now, before you go getting the wrong idea, I'm not a complete technodope. Nor am I any kind of technowhiz. I fall comfortably somewhere in the middle and, imho, I think I trend toward the upper portion of the curve. I typically do ok with new technologies although I'll readily admit I'm not savvy enough to take full advantage of the wizardry that is available to us today. Of course, the way things advance, sometimes in the blink of an eye, it is tough to stay on top of things. So I do ok.
For the most part.
At least until recently.
Let me explain...
In the fire service today, there are apps available that send you (and when I say "you" I mean "us" because I don't think they're readily available to the general public) dispatch information for the 9-1-1 calls we when we get dispatched.
I'd better back up a little bit.
Until last week the village that employs me had our own dispatch center. Meaning, when someone called 9-1-1 in our town it was ultimately answered by a dispatcher sitting in our very own police station and they would dispatch the appropriate units for whatever the situation dictated. There was an app that a lot of our guys used and it would alert them to a call every bit of 30-45 seconds before we got "toned out" for the very same call. Which invariably drew this response from me-
I can't help it. It aggravated me that this was possible. Even after it was explained to me (Magic according to one of the younger guys. Who am I to doubt him) I still found it somehow wrong. I mean, to me, it always seems as though WE should hear the tones before some app gets the notification pushed out, right? I know, I know, I'm missing the point. I should have gotten the app and joined the crowd rather than digging in my heels but I'm nothing if not stubborn at the most inopportune times.
Now, I told you that to tell you this. We switched to a new dispatch center last week. Situation out of our control, I believe it was a mandate from the state but don't hold me to that. And, side note, all of our dispatchers are still gainfully employed. This was a long, slow process so they all had ample time to find new gigs. A couple switched to a new industry, but it sounds like happy endings (so to speak) all around. Along with the new dispatch set up, a new app was issued. I decided to give it a try. I mean, if someone gave Sisyphus a jackhammer, I've got to believe the whole boulder thing would come to a rapid end. Besides, it was offered to us for free, so...
I signed up for the app and downloaded it onto my phone.
That was the end of my technological success.
It took me half of the first day to get the app to work the way it's intended.
And I don't know how I did it.
The next morning the same thing happened only in reverse. It took me half the day to get it shut off. And, again, I don't know how. This was, obvs, a little aggravating but I figured it was due to my lack of experience with the app and I was confident, weeellllll maybe "confident" is the wrong word. I'll call it hopeful, that I'd get the hang of the new app my next day in.
BAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I was wrong.
Last day, same result. Until about 2:00 or so in the afternoon when another one of the younger guys showed me how to turn the app back on. And it worked fine the rest of the day. This app doesn't seem to be quite as efficient as the old one, in that the notification doesn't come until 30-45 seconds AFTER the tones. Now, you would think that would please me. No chance. See, one of the changes that have taken place as I've attained more experience on the job which, btw, is me saying I'm old, is that it takes me longer to get out the door, especially in the middle of the night, than it used to. I almost always used to be the first one out to the rig back in the day. Now, not so much. I've even tried changing around my sleeping routine to try and shave a little time off. I think I figured that part out, btw but I digress. Because I was hoping to get the notification a little early to help me get out on the floor quicker. No such luck.
So now, here I sit, in my local coffeehouse, feverishly pounding the keyboard in celebration. Because this morning, a full 48 hours after I left the firehouse and after not less than a half dozen attempts, I FINALLY figured out how to shut off that mother****er.
I think.
If I can successfully turn it on tomorrow morning at work, I will consider it a success.
If not, I'm deleting that bitch.
Who needs the aggravation, amirite?
Keep me in your thoughts.
And if anyone out there has figured out "I Am Responding" hook a brotha up, will ya?
Peace
PS- because, well, you know... I'm STILL getting the damn text messages from the stupid app... I guess I need to update the scoreboard. Plus I feel like it's now just doing it to mock me.
For the most part.
At least until recently.
Let me explain...
In the fire service today, there are apps available that send you (and when I say "you" I mean "us" because I don't think they're readily available to the general public) dispatch information for the 9-1-1 calls we when we get dispatched.
I'd better back up a little bit.
Until last week the village that employs me had our own dispatch center. Meaning, when someone called 9-1-1 in our town it was ultimately answered by a dispatcher sitting in our very own police station and they would dispatch the appropriate units for whatever the situation dictated. There was an app that a lot of our guys used and it would alert them to a call every bit of 30-45 seconds before we got "toned out" for the very same call. Which invariably drew this response from me-
I can't help it. It aggravated me that this was possible. Even after it was explained to me (Magic according to one of the younger guys. Who am I to doubt him) I still found it somehow wrong. I mean, to me, it always seems as though WE should hear the tones before some app gets the notification pushed out, right? I know, I know, I'm missing the point. I should have gotten the app and joined the crowd rather than digging in my heels but I'm nothing if not stubborn at the most inopportune times.
Now, I told you that to tell you this. We switched to a new dispatch center last week. Situation out of our control, I believe it was a mandate from the state but don't hold me to that. And, side note, all of our dispatchers are still gainfully employed. This was a long, slow process so they all had ample time to find new gigs. A couple switched to a new industry, but it sounds like happy endings (so to speak) all around. Along with the new dispatch set up, a new app was issued. I decided to give it a try. I mean, if someone gave Sisyphus a jackhammer, I've got to believe the whole boulder thing would come to a rapid end. Besides, it was offered to us for free, so...
I signed up for the app and downloaded it onto my phone.
That was the end of my technological success.
It took me half of the first day to get the app to work the way it's intended.
And I don't know how I did it.
The next morning the same thing happened only in reverse. It took me half the day to get it shut off. And, again, I don't know how. This was, obvs, a little aggravating but I figured it was due to my lack of experience with the app and I was confident, weeellllll maybe "confident" is the wrong word. I'll call it hopeful, that I'd get the hang of the new app my next day in.
BAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I was wrong.
Last day, same result. Until about 2:00 or so in the afternoon when another one of the younger guys showed me how to turn the app back on. And it worked fine the rest of the day. This app doesn't seem to be quite as efficient as the old one, in that the notification doesn't come until 30-45 seconds AFTER the tones. Now, you would think that would please me. No chance. See, one of the changes that have taken place as I've attained more experience on the job which, btw, is me saying I'm old, is that it takes me longer to get out the door, especially in the middle of the night, than it used to. I almost always used to be the first one out to the rig back in the day. Now, not so much. I've even tried changing around my sleeping routine to try and shave a little time off. I think I figured that part out, btw but I digress. Because I was hoping to get the notification a little early to help me get out on the floor quicker. No such luck.
So now, here I sit, in my local coffeehouse, feverishly pounding the keyboard in celebration. Because this morning, a full 48 hours after I left the firehouse and after not less than a half dozen attempts, I FINALLY figured out how to shut off that mother****er.
I think.
If I can successfully turn it on tomorrow morning at work, I will consider it a success.
If not, I'm deleting that bitch.
Who needs the aggravation, amirite?
Keep me in your thoughts.
And if anyone out there has figured out "I Am Responding" hook a brotha up, will ya?
Peace
PS- because, well, you know... I'm STILL getting the damn text messages from the stupid app... I guess I need to update the scoreboard. Plus I feel like it's now just doing it to mock me.
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