Like Roseanne Roseannadanna says, "It's always somethin'!" And for yours truly, it looks like it's the "travel hackers."
Yesterday, Forbes writer John Giuffo reported the story of folk who want to boost their frequent flyer miles are taking advantage of a sweet deal offered by the U.S. Mint. As Mr. Giuffo explains it, "The dollar coin trick involves purchasing large amounts of coins with a frequent flier card, waiting for the Mint to ship the coins (free shipping!), and then taking the coins to the bank, where they are deposited and the money is used to pay the credit card charges. No money is lost, the frequent flier miles rack up, and travelers can use them for upgrades or completely free flights whenever they want."
Dear U.S. Mint, this is John writing, and I am NOT a travel hacker. I LOVE the gold coins! (See my October 2007 blog.) Heck, I'm Johnny Gold-Dollar-Seed! I appreciate your free shipping and I put the coins I purchase from you back into the economy with every-day purchases and an occassional gift to delight a youngster. I never take mine to the bank. I am NOT a travel hacker.
Mr. Giuffo's acticle notes that the Mint has made some adjustments in defense, limiting the amounts of purchase, but I think they could take it one step further so their valuable service remains - because these hackers are queerin' the deal for us law-abiding gold-dollar afficianados who like to share our love of the coins via distribution.
New rule: if you don't have a blog swearing you allegiance to the proper appreciation and use of the gold dollars, you cannot purchase them. The Mint could set up the Gold Dollar Club. I would be honored to be a founding member.
I think these hackers are taking advantage of our government, and I think it's wrong. Presently, my state's attorney general is going after a landlord in tornado-damaged Joplin for raising rates. That's wrong, plain and simple. People should think before they act. I say "Shame on you, travel hackers!" Go find another vine from which to pick the fruit to feed your greed, but stay away from my gold dollars! Don't queer the deal!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
The Colonoscopy Cocktail
As a two-time veteran of the procedure, I can truly tell you that a colonoscopy is "not that bad." Truly.
If you are hesitant, Google "colon cancer." After my first, five years ago (I had a couple of noncancerous polyps removed so I had to have another in five years instead of the usual 10), a hospital was giving a free lecture on colon cancer – with snacks! Snacks were tasty, the doctor was entertaining and informative, but when he started that PowerPoint…!
Let's just say this, the anus may not be your favorite orifice, but could you imagine life without it? Don't even try!
Anyway, at my second colonoscopy a couple of days ago, I learned the advances in modern science came after the preparation phase (more on that later) when the anesthesiologist told me that I would be receiving a drug that would give me "temporary amnesia." I think it's called propofol.
Well, last time's drug was fine, made me feel REAL GOOD, and I even chatted with the doctor a bit while he was doing the procedure and he even let me watch on a video screen. And that drug lingered a bit, if you know what I mean.
The anesthesiologist wasn't offering a choice, just telling me I wouldn't even know the colonoscopy happened and that I would feel "back to normal" right after the procedure. I would have rather felt REAL GOOD, but not getting to chose, I went with what was offered.
And it worked. They rolled me in, rolled me on my side, put an oxygen mask on me, there was a little snappy banter during introductions all around, and the next thing you know I'm in the recovering area where Nurse Natasha, when I told her I felt like I needed to release some gas, told me to roll over and "let it go – it's just air from the procedure."
I got the "all clear" and was up and around and out of there!
Okay, the preparation phase is the worst part. Briefly, it's this:
1. Two days before, start cutting back on the food intake. You eat soup, yogurt, etc.
2. Day before, maybe a little juice or soda, then, around 1 p.m. for me, it was time to mix up the ol' colonoscopy cocktail, polyethylene glycol, and cool it in the refrigerator.
3. From 3 to 5 p.m., you drink the polyethylene glycol.
4. And for me, from about 4:30 until 7 p.m., you make sure you have plenty of reading handy at the ol' porcelain throne.
Polyethylene glycol is a laxative, and it has kind of a salty taste. It is not at all appetizing. The pharmacist can give you a "flavor packet," but I tried that once and it doesn't help, so this time, I took it straight. Refrigeration does help, as does drinking through a straw to avoid some of the taste buds. But it still tastes nasty — make that yucky.
There has to be a better way, right? That's what I thought, and what I know I read somewhere, but when I asked my pharmacist about "the pill," he said he'd never heard of it. Well, I'm giving him this website: http://www.tabletprep.com/index.aspx
I don't know why the woman on the page is sitting on a big blue ball with wheels – unless that's the latest in colonoscopy prep "evacuation devices," if you know what I mean – but she IS smiling. And that leads me to believe she either got a nice check to pose like that or she took a OsmoPrep, "The Tablet Prep."
I am so looking forward to that next time!!!
But even if I have to chug the good ol' polyethylene glycol again, I'll be there. I've SEEN the PowerPoint. The anus is my friend.
If you are hesitant, Google "colon cancer." After my first, five years ago (I had a couple of noncancerous polyps removed so I had to have another in five years instead of the usual 10), a hospital was giving a free lecture on colon cancer – with snacks! Snacks were tasty, the doctor was entertaining and informative, but when he started that PowerPoint…!
Let's just say this, the anus may not be your favorite orifice, but could you imagine life without it? Don't even try!
Anyway, at my second colonoscopy a couple of days ago, I learned the advances in modern science came after the preparation phase (more on that later) when the anesthesiologist told me that I would be receiving a drug that would give me "temporary amnesia." I think it's called propofol.
Well, last time's drug was fine, made me feel REAL GOOD, and I even chatted with the doctor a bit while he was doing the procedure and he even let me watch on a video screen. And that drug lingered a bit, if you know what I mean.
The anesthesiologist wasn't offering a choice, just telling me I wouldn't even know the colonoscopy happened and that I would feel "back to normal" right after the procedure. I would have rather felt REAL GOOD, but not getting to chose, I went with what was offered.
And it worked. They rolled me in, rolled me on my side, put an oxygen mask on me, there was a little snappy banter during introductions all around, and the next thing you know I'm in the recovering area where Nurse Natasha, when I told her I felt like I needed to release some gas, told me to roll over and "let it go – it's just air from the procedure."
I got the "all clear" and was up and around and out of there!
Okay, the preparation phase is the worst part. Briefly, it's this:
1. Two days before, start cutting back on the food intake. You eat soup, yogurt, etc.
2. Day before, maybe a little juice or soda, then, around 1 p.m. for me, it was time to mix up the ol' colonoscopy cocktail, polyethylene glycol, and cool it in the refrigerator.
3. From 3 to 5 p.m., you drink the polyethylene glycol.
4. And for me, from about 4:30 until 7 p.m., you make sure you have plenty of reading handy at the ol' porcelain throne.
Polyethylene glycol is a laxative, and it has kind of a salty taste. It is not at all appetizing. The pharmacist can give you a "flavor packet," but I tried that once and it doesn't help, so this time, I took it straight. Refrigeration does help, as does drinking through a straw to avoid some of the taste buds. But it still tastes nasty — make that yucky.
There has to be a better way, right? That's what I thought, and what I know I read somewhere, but when I asked my pharmacist about "the pill," he said he'd never heard of it. Well, I'm giving him this website: http://www.tabletprep.com/index.aspx
I don't know why the woman on the page is sitting on a big blue ball with wheels – unless that's the latest in colonoscopy prep "evacuation devices," if you know what I mean – but she IS smiling. And that leads me to believe she either got a nice check to pose like that or she took a OsmoPrep, "The Tablet Prep."
I am so looking forward to that next time!!!
But even if I have to chug the good ol' polyethylene glycol again, I'll be there. I've SEEN the PowerPoint. The anus is my friend.
Coincidence at the Confluence
On May 2, 2011, I awoke in my St. Louis hotel room to hear Osama bin Laden was dead.
I was in St. Louis the day Saddam was captured, too, and was inspired to chalk "You're next, Osama!" on the back window of my pickup. (Got lots of honks.)
And I walked across the empty Arch grounds on 9/11/2001 to volunteer for an international zoo convention, only to be sent home with everyone else after the second plane hit its tower.
Maybe I should visit St. Louis more often so I can help close the book on this story.
I was in St. Louis the day Saddam was captured, too, and was inspired to chalk "You're next, Osama!" on the back window of my pickup. (Got lots of honks.)
And I walked across the empty Arch grounds on 9/11/2001 to volunteer for an international zoo convention, only to be sent home with everyone else after the second plane hit its tower.
Maybe I should visit St. Louis more often so I can help close the book on this story.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Learnin' from Old Folk
On Easter Sunday, as we were waiting for the start of church services, my friend Fred leaned over and said to me, "Sixty-six years ago, I was invading Okinawa."
I'm guessing you don't hear that one every day.
Fred is an 88-year-old Marine - "Once a Marine, always a Marine!" - and he was celebrating his 19th birthday the morning the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.
I've learned a lot about the Marines, World War II, and life in general from Fred. You can learn a lot from old folk.
As for that Easter Sunday in 1945, Fred said our leaders thought it would be a "surprise" to attack on Easter, thinking the Japanese would not expect us to attack on a religious holiday.
But he said he went to church at 4 a.m., on a ship, and the Japanese troops - some 130,000 of them - were far from surprised. We lost more than 12,000 lives in the 82-day-long battle, on land and sea.
As I'm reading "Jungle Ace," the story of Col. Gerald R. Johnson, a U.S. Army Air Force fighter pilot during WW II, I asked Fred about something author John R. Bruning shares from Col. Johnson's letters home - his disgust at workers striking for better pay in the USA while men and women were fighting and dying to protect that right.
Fred said his base pay as a fighting Marine was $30 per month.
Fred said the main carping he heard was in the Red Cross tent. The man there was paid over $500 per month to distribute items sent from home to give a little comfort to our military. That man charged the troop nickels and dimes for coffee and donuts.
Fred said he doesn't think much of the Red Cross. I think that's understandable.
I'm glad Fred made it home from Okinawa. I wouldn't have been at that particular Easter lunch with friends and loved ones if he hadn't.
And that's just an example of what I've learned from old folk. Not all has been about war. There are lots of other things, some useful, some sad, some funny.
And even a few head-scrathers ... but they were all worth my time to obtain.
Old folk are a most valuable resource, and it's worth your time to seek them out, give them a hand or just a listening ear, and get all the learnin' you can.
I'm guessing you don't hear that one every day.
Fred is an 88-year-old Marine - "Once a Marine, always a Marine!" - and he was celebrating his 19th birthday the morning the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor.
I've learned a lot about the Marines, World War II, and life in general from Fred. You can learn a lot from old folk.
As for that Easter Sunday in 1945, Fred said our leaders thought it would be a "surprise" to attack on Easter, thinking the Japanese would not expect us to attack on a religious holiday.
But he said he went to church at 4 a.m., on a ship, and the Japanese troops - some 130,000 of them - were far from surprised. We lost more than 12,000 lives in the 82-day-long battle, on land and sea.
As I'm reading "Jungle Ace," the story of Col. Gerald R. Johnson, a U.S. Army Air Force fighter pilot during WW II, I asked Fred about something author John R. Bruning shares from Col. Johnson's letters home - his disgust at workers striking for better pay in the USA while men and women were fighting and dying to protect that right.
Fred said his base pay as a fighting Marine was $30 per month.
Fred said the main carping he heard was in the Red Cross tent. The man there was paid over $500 per month to distribute items sent from home to give a little comfort to our military. That man charged the troop nickels and dimes for coffee and donuts.
Fred said he doesn't think much of the Red Cross. I think that's understandable.
I'm glad Fred made it home from Okinawa. I wouldn't have been at that particular Easter lunch with friends and loved ones if he hadn't.
And that's just an example of what I've learned from old folk. Not all has been about war. There are lots of other things, some useful, some sad, some funny.
And even a few head-scrathers ... but they were all worth my time to obtain.
Old folk are a most valuable resource, and it's worth your time to seek them out, give them a hand or just a listening ear, and get all the learnin' you can.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
TRUE CONFESSIONS
Okay, I did it. I took the frozen dinner from the office refrigerator, microwaved it, and ate it. There, I've said it.
Here's the deal: we have 18 inches of snow; I'm here with less than 10 people in a 200+ person office building; because my car is light, I walked home last night - in the snow - and walked back today - in the deeper snow; and none of the nearby restaurants nor the building snack shop are open.
As I hope you can see, it's not my fault.
I read "Alive," about the rugby team from Uruguay whose plane crashed in the Andes Mountains and they were forced to eat their dead fellow passengers to survive. It wasn't their fault, either!
Not that I didn't have guilt. Heck, the Uruguayans had guilt - but the priests said their action was okay because it was for survival. Same with me.
I'm reminded of the time my friend Big M bought some frozen White Castles at lunch at the grocery and stowed them in the fridge. By break time, they were gone. I don't think anybody ate them ... to survive ... or anything like that. They simply stole them.
I didn't steal. I had to survive. There, I've said it.
(By the way, it was turkey and mashed potatoes and it was pretty tasty.)
Here's the deal: we have 18 inches of snow; I'm here with less than 10 people in a 200+ person office building; because my car is light, I walked home last night - in the snow - and walked back today - in the deeper snow; and none of the nearby restaurants nor the building snack shop are open.
As I hope you can see, it's not my fault.
I read "Alive," about the rugby team from Uruguay whose plane crashed in the Andes Mountains and they were forced to eat their dead fellow passengers to survive. It wasn't their fault, either!
Not that I didn't have guilt. Heck, the Uruguayans had guilt - but the priests said their action was okay because it was for survival. Same with me.
I'm reminded of the time my friend Big M bought some frozen White Castles at lunch at the grocery and stowed them in the fridge. By break time, they were gone. I don't think anybody ate them ... to survive ... or anything like that. They simply stole them.
I didn't steal. I had to survive. There, I've said it.
(By the way, it was turkey and mashed potatoes and it was pretty tasty.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)