Fri 20 Jul 2007
Another quiz. This time to find out my Harry Potter alter ego. Surprisingly I’m 55% like HWMNBN.
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You scored as Albus Dumbledore, Strong and powerful you admirably defend your world and your charges against those who would seek to harm them. However sometimes you can fail to do what you must because you care too much to cause suffering.
Your Harry Potter Alter Ego Is…? |
Fri 6 Jul 2007
As has been widely reported in the news, the Emerald Ash Borer, a species of beetle invasive to North America, has been devastating the ash tree stocks in the midwest, particularly in southeastern Michigan. Over the past few years, every spring has brought new signs of destruction as more and more ash trees succumb to the pest, whose larvae feed on the cambium area of the ash tree (between the bark and the hard wood), essentially girdling the tree as it cannot transport water and nutrients from the roots to the leaves.
Alan and I often commute together, and increasingly large stands of ash are dying along our drive on I-94 into Ann Arbor. The psychological effect is significant I think, as we both grew up in southern Michigan, and we’re pretty much used to seeing trees everywhere. We live near a town named in part for its abundance of leafy canopy. To see so many trees killed in such a short period of time is quite disturbing.
I can’t say I could have identified an ash tree prior to this infestation. Now the broom-like fan of its defoliated branches is all too familiar. Ash tend to thrive and outcompete other trees in marshy areas, so once a stand has been infested, the whole area dies. The picture above is a from a area west of Parker Road south of I-94 in Washtenaw County (click for the entire set).
The State of Michigan has imposed a quarantine on the movement of wood and related items to help limit the spread of the pest, but I fear that the ash could go the way of the elm did a few decades ago. More info at www.emeraldashborer.info.
Mon 2 Jul 2007
The husband and I have decided to unplug from the news for a month. No CNN in the morning, no drive-time NPR. No perusing news blogs in an effort to stay informed, keep up, or remain in the know. No more Tivo’ed Daily Show during dinner, or Colbert after dinner is cleaned up.
The news is, frankly, depressing. And its making us cynical.
It started with, innocently enough, the alarm clock. The 7am radio alarm would come on, and Carl Kasell’s reassuring voice would tally the number of dead and wounded in Baghdad that day. Of course by now we’ve all become somewhat numbed to the daily body count, so its easy not to really “hear” the thing, but it has a subtle (or not so subtle) effect if that’s the first thing you hear in the day.
Then I decided that I couldn’t listen to the news on the way into work, so we switched to Sirius “First Wave” (oldies for Gen-Xers), and reserved the drive-time news for the evening commute home (we drive together most days). I just find that, given the preponderance of really bad news these days, it makes me anxious and angry and frustrated to listen to so many really bad things that, frankly, I can do little or nothing about.
The proverbial last straw was last week’s assertion by Tricky-Dick Cheney that the Vice President doesn’t work for the Executive Branch. While laughable, it illustrates an administration that has zero regard for the intelligence of the public, holds utter contempt for the fundamental principles of the Republic, and is obsessed only with its own power and reactionary agenda. Our usual news venues were either as dumbfounded as anyone else, or had the obvious satirical responses. But boy, the knot of impotent and cynical anger that put in my stomach hasn’t left for days.
So we’ve had enough, at least for July.
Of course I feel guilty. I feel like its my duty to stay informed, so I can write my congressman, senator, governor, state rep, county commissioner, mayor, and zoning commissioner to voice my rage at whatever idiocy is being perpetrated on our country, state, and community this month. And its hard to get away from this stuff. Sit down to eat a bowl of cereal in the morning, and the remote, almost by itself, turns on CNN. It turns off just as easily though.
The world will do just fine without us for a month. Maybe we’ll do even better without it.
Wed 27 Jun 2007
Now that the old-guard airlines have completely screwed themselves into oblivion, we can enjoy all of the wonderful comforts of the new, Ultra-Low Cost Carrier (ULCC) airlines, such as Spirit. With Spirit you get such perks such as:
I’d rather spend the extra thirty bucks per ticket on an airline that considers air travel to be something more than a flying bus.
Fri 1 Jun 2007
I had my gallbladder removed yesterday. Despite my apprehension, the procedure was rather painless.
Arrived at Chelsea Community Hospital Surgery Center at 8am (CCH is across the street from my house, so very convenient). Checked in, filled out paperwork, sat in the waiting room for a few minutes, and then they came to get me.
Had to undress, get comfortable on the bed, and get fitted with an IV. That was probably the worst part, as I’m not terribly vascularized, particularly on my left arm, and the nurse missed on the first try. I started to sweat and get pale, and was relieved when she found a site on the back of my hand that worked. My elbows are the best places to put IVs, and I’ve never had one in my hand. That said, this is the third time I’ve had an IV, and the second time I’ve been to the hospital for myself, so its not like I have a lot of experience with these things.
A visit from the anesthesiologist helped put me at ease — he told me how they would put me to sleep, and indicated that my doctor was the guy, bar none, that he would want to have doing any sort of procedure like mine. Chelsea Community Hospital is affiliated both with the University of Michigan Hospital and St. Joseph’s Hospital, so the docs are experienced and up to date.
Alan came back, took my glasses and wedding ring (its titanium and gold, so if I had some major swelling on my hands could be a real problem getting off), and they wheeled me back to the OR. I remember looking around, chatting with folks for a minute, and then found myself back in the recovery room. It was really as if no time had passed, and I have no memory at all of any of the intervening two hours. I was most apprehensive about that part — would I wake up, feel something bad, get sick, etc. But they have a good cocktail of drugs to knock you out, painkillers for when you wake up, and to prevent nausea from the gas.
Alan came back in a little while and told me things went very well, although the procedure took a little longer as my gallbladder was “very inflamed” (probably due to secondary infection from the stones and it was good that we had it removed). I was discharged a little while later, and was back at home by 12:30.
I napped on the couch for a while, and woke up feeling pretty good. I was expecting to feel wiped out from the general anesthesia, but felt pretty normal, and was hungry enough to have soup, and some more substantial dinner a little while later. Surprisingly I wasn’t especially tired last night, and was mildly uncomfortable, both from the warmth of the weather and the soreness in my belly.
Actually the worst part is the big smooth patch on my tummy, which is somewhat incongruous given my otherwise hirsuteness.
I’ve been warned not to overdo it too quickly, but I am surprised at in general how well I feel.
I’m very thankful to live in a time and place that provides such good health care, and to have the privilege of having access to such care. For most times and places in the world this would not be the case.