Body Parts

I think this speaks for itself.

Professional Relations
Santa Fe Imaging
1640 Hospital Drive
Santa Fe, New Mexico 87505

Your comment form does not provide me with the space I need to comment.

When I first called Santa Fe Imaging to make an appointment, I told the person who answered the phone that I needed an aorta ultrasound. She replied: “Which part of the body is that?”

After she figured it out and we agreed on a date, she told me to drink 24 ounces of water before the appointment and to hold it. When I arrived for my appointment, my bladder nearly bursting, the appointment clerk realized that I should have been fasting, not feasting and rescheduled the appointment.

A day before the appointment someone called to make sure all was in order and I repeated the above story. She said that the temps didn’t always know medical terminology, to which I replied: Aorta seems to me to be basic biology.

During this phone call, by the way, your person used the word “kidney” and I challenged her. I pointed out that this procedure had nothing to do with my kidney. She double checked the records and agreed.

I fasted, I arrived on time, I was promptly recorded and soon taken to a room where the correct procedure was done professionally by someone named Charlie.

Other than scheduling, which I’d give a 1 to, everyone else on your form rates a 6.

Needless to say, just repeating the which body part question will get me a lot of laughs at parties.

Sincerely,

Tales from Coal Country

The Black Rock That Built America: A Tribute to the Anthracite Coal Miners, By Gerald L McKerns C.C., Xlibris, 2007, 134pp. (Available at http://www.geraldmckerns.com/) 

This compact history of the Anthracite region of Pennsylvania comes with a lot of local anecdotes and personal insights one would not find in an academic history. That in itself makes it an interesting addition to the history and lore of the hard coal country.

McKerns was born in St. Nicholas, a company “town” just outside Mahanoy City in Schuylkill County. McKerns refers to St. Nicholas as a “patch,” which are small clusters of homes in between towns. Before bypasses, rerouted highways and Interstates, you went through a lot of patches driving from Point A to Point B. McKerns tells us some of what happened in the towns and patches and that is a welcome addition to any Coal Cracker’s history. (That’s what the C.C. stands for in McKern’s byline.)

For example, I did not know about that the religious differences in Mahanoy City were manifested in the membership of its two fire companies—one Irish Catholic and one Welsh Protestant. Summoned by an alarm that was a pretext for a fight, members of the companies met in downtown Mahanoy City. Shooting and death followed. Being of Welsh descent and as a former member of the historically Protestant fire company in Tamaqua, I understand—but don’t endorse—the division and am glad that today cooperation among coal region fire companies and diversity of membership is first and foremost.

The book is filled with many tidbits, some of which McKerns remembers from his youth, stories told, as he says, by “old timers who shared with me their tears and tales of days gone by.” McKerns tells of the day he witnessed the unsuccessful rescue of a miner while the miner’s son watched. The next day McKerns was asked to serve as an altar boy at a funeral mass and at the mass as he looked down the aisle at the grieving family walking in he recognized the miner’s son. “Just the other day,” he writes, “I watched men remove dirt that covered a miner who was in a hole in the ground and today men will put that miner in a hole in the ground and cover him with dirt.”

McKerns devotes one chapter to the Sheppton mine cave-in of 1963, which as a reporter for the Tamaqua newspaper I vividly remember. For coal region history buffs, that chapter alone is worth the price of the book. The book includes many old photographs and drawings, some of which, such as the cover, were done by the author.

McKerns ends on the optimistic note that coal will be king again. I’m skeptical myself, but having grown up at a time when coal mines were being shuttered and thousands of men were losing their jobs, I understand McKerns’ hope for a comeback. 

One thing that would have made this book much better is an index. Still, I will place it on my bookshelf with my other coal region books and pass it on to my children at the appropriate time, which I hope is a long way off.

No Greater Love

My Hero My Son, The true story of Sgt. Andrew J. Baddick, an 82nd Airborne Division paratrooper who made the ultimate sacrifice in Iraq, by Joseph Baddick, BookSurge/CreateSpace, 2010, 277pp.

John 15:13—Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends. (Douay-Rheims Bible)

This book honors the life—and sacrifice—of a soldier who rescued a fellow soldier from drowning in a canal in Iraq, and then when told that another soldier was still in the water, jumped back in to save him, only to lose his own life.

One would expect a book by a father about his late son, both of whom served in the 82nd Airborne at different times, would be highly emotional, but Joe Baddick avoids over-the-top language and lets you decide when to sigh and when to cry. Joe writes in an original and detached style, almost as if he’s telling someone else’s story sitting in his living room or at a local bar. There are no cliff-hanger endings. The story is told simply and sequentially.

Joe gives readers some background on the Pennsylvania Coal Region so we can better understand him and A.J. (as he’s known) and then he takes us through A.J.’s childhood (which includes Joe's divorce and remarriage). Joe and I both grew up in Tamaqua, although I don’t know him. It turns out that enlisting in the Army did for A.J. what it did for a lot of us in the Region—it gave us a free ticket out of town and taught us how to focus on something.

Joe reproduces the official report on A.J.’s death, but also includes comments from other soldiers who served with him. There are just some things official reports don’t tell you that you’re glad to learn.

“Writing this book,” Joe says at the end, “has been a journey for me, back to happier times, interesting times, fun times, and sad times. In talking to other families [who lost their lives in war], I found out that our sons led very similar lives. They were loving, humorous, dedicated, professional, and seemed to be cut from the same special cloth that made them who they were, a breed apart from all others.”

In addition to all of the personal information, Joe describes two private meetings that families of soldiers killed in the war had with President Bush. Joe reports that at the first one when Joe’s wife started to tear up, the president put his arm around her and said, “Let’s cry together.” Joe calls Bush “the real article” and includes two photos, one of Bush holding Joe’s granddaughter, Andi Rose.

The title of this essay is meant to convey two meanings. One, of course, is A.J.’s sacrifice. The other is Joe’s love for his son. No greater love.

User Fees and Parking

I receive a newsletter from Arthur Frommer, a name you may recognize if you travel and buy travel guides. I usually skim and then delete his newsletters, but I saved one to use as a take-off point in an essay.

In a recent newsletter, Frommer complains (I actually want to say “whines”) because the application fee for a visa (not the credit card) was being increased to $150 per person and the fee for obtaining a passport was being increased to $135.

I found a slightly lower figure at www.state.gov, but that doesn’t mean the fee is not proposed to increase at some point. Whatever, it doesn’t invalidate what I’m about to comment on, and that is Frommer’s statement, to wit:

“So once again, instead of funding the cost of running the State Department from general tax revenues (which is the fair way to do it), we are charging a user's fee that is a burden not to our well-off citizens but to Americans of low income. $135 for a passport!”


Fair to whom?
What set me off is Frommer’s feeling that the State Department should not recover reasonable costs, such as the costs of processing visa and passport applications, that it should all be funded by taxpayers. Take his argument to its logical (it’s actually illogical!) conclusion and you have the taxpayers subsidizing all kinds of fees.

Think about all of the things individuals seek from government that have some processing time connected to them and, hence, a fee. A journalist wants a copy of a document s/he should pay a reasonable fee for the copy. Real estate agents wants a list of deed transfers; pay for it.

What lies at the bottom of Frommer’s thinking is what I call the free parking space mindset. No matter where I’ve lived, people have complained because they’ve had to pay to park.

Why can’t parking be free? they ask.

If parking were free, there would be no parking because the first ones to the space would sit there all day.

But parking is free at the mall, some argue.

Not really. When the mall is built and the owner calculates rents, he factors in every one of his costs, including what it cost him to build a parking lot, stripe it and maintain it.

There’s no such thing as a free parking space.

And, while I’m at it, there’s no such thing as a free lunch. Or a free travel guide.

So get over it, Mr. Frommer, and everyone else.

Canyon de Chelly

Acting on the advice of friends, Paulette and I signed up for an Elderhostel trip (just as Elderhostel was changing its name to Exploritas). We went to Canyon de Chelly in nearby Chinle, Arizona. It is a national monument and, to quote the National Park Service:

Reflecting one of the longest continuously inhabited landscapes of North America, the cultural resources of Canyon de Chelly include distinctive architecture, artifacts, and rock imagery while exhibiting remarkable preservation integrity that provides outstanding opportunities for study and contemplation. Canyon de Chelly also sustains a living community of Navajo people, who are connected to a landscape of great historical and spiritual significance. Canyon de Chelly is unique among National Park service units, as it is comprised entirely of Navajo Tribal Trust Land that remains home to the canyon community. NPS works in partnership with the Navajo Nation to manage park resources and sustain the living Navajo community.

We took the first date available in 2010 and it happened to coincide with my birthday (and I’m showing off my new bolo in the accompanying photo). As part of the program, we were taken on a guided tour of the South Rim and the canyon floor a thousand feet below and sat through several interesting and worthwhile lectures about the Navajo. When we left, we drove along the North Rim and stopped at every outlook. A snowstorm had hit overnight and was continuing off and on as we stopped and photographed.

Once back in Santa Fe, we culled our photographs and then Paulette picked up her brush and created her own interpretations of Canyon de Chelly. So here they are—pixels and bristles™.

Table of contents
Homage to Edward S. Curtis 1
South Rim View 2-3
Teysi Overlook 4-5, 6
South Rim View 7-13
Spider Rock 14
Ring 15
White House from the Canyon Floor 16-17
White House from the South Rim 18
Standing Cow Ruin 19
The Bayeaux Tapestry of Canyon de Chelly 20
Rock Art 22-23
Canyon Floor 24-25
First Ruin 26
Horses 27
Hogan 28-29
Canyon Floor Image 30-35
Canyon Floor 36-39
Canyon Floor Trees 40-41
Antelope House 42-43
Antelope House from the North Rim 44
Antelope 45
North Rim View 46-57
Paulette on the North Rim 58
Outside Our Motel 59
The Story Behind Pixels and BristlesTM 60

Inflame or inform? That is the question.

The lead on a recent story from the Philadelphia Inquirer caught my eye on Facebook and so I went to the story to read it in full. Here’s the lead:

In a quick hearing in a crowded federal courtroom, Colleen "JihadJane" LaRose of Pennsburg pleaded not guilty yesterday to terrorism charges.

I had been only marginally following this story, but I knew enough to know who “JihadJane” was. What raised my eyebrow was the use of her nickname in the lead. I wonder if it was necessary. If you read the entire story, you will come across this five paragraphs after the lead:

LaRose, who called herself "JihadJane" and "Fatima LaRose" in scores of online postings avowing hatred for U.S. policies toward Muslims, is accused of stealing an ex-boyfriend's passport and aiding the plot of a group of Islamic dissidents in Europe to kill Lars Vilks, who depicted Muhammad with the body of a dog in 2007.

I do think it’s legitimate to provide that information, but I’m troubled that it’s part of the lead. In the lead, it’s inflammatory, not informative. In paragraph five, it’s informative.

Consider the New York Times’ lead:

The Pennsylvania woman accused of recruiting men on the Internet to wage jihad in southern Asia and Europe pleaded not guilty Thursday to all counts in federal court in Philadelphia.

That lead informs rather than inflames. The second paragraph of the story also informs:

The authorities say the woman, Colleen R. LaRose, is a terrorist sympathizer known by her Internet name, “JihadJane,” and had expressed a desire to become a martyr for an Islamist cause.

I did a quick Internet search and found other news organizations publishing leads that were more along the lines of the Inquirer’s. I’m disappointed, but not surprised. I don’t know what others want, but I want more information and less inflammation in my news. That’s what news should be and I hope the story in the Inquirer is the exception, not the rule, for that news outlet and many others.

O, Toyota

If someone is walking or driving behind me when I back out of a parking space, my car starts to beep and a red light on my dashboard blinks. When I pulled into the space and maybe got too close to the opposing car, the same thing happened, only the sound was different so I could distinguish where the problem was.

On the open highway, of which there are many in New Mexico, I’m quick to set the cruise control for the maximum speed limit. The cruise control in my car is ideal because it will slow me down when I get too close to the car in front of me and it will even sound an alarm if I get real close.

It does have a tendency when I pull into the passing lane in such situations to go into a quick acceleration mode that exceeds the set speed limit, but then it settles back to the right speed and I continue on my way.

It’s a comfortable car that despite its youth of six years we’ve already put more than 100,000 miles on. It’s good for road trips.

The only problem with our car is that it’s a Toyota, a 2004 Sienna XLE, complete with a DVD player for the grandchildren, heated front seats and lots of room to stow luggage, folding chairs and tripods. We’ve hauled queen-size mattresses, a wine cooler, futons and day beds in it. It has had great value for us.

But I have to wonder what value it has given Toyota’s current problems.

We’ve debated whether or not we want to trade it in. When we’ve mentioned that in the past, some people have said, Oh, it’s a Toyota, you can get 200,000 miles or 300,000 miles on it.

We were not sure we wanted to wait that long. So we laid down a marker for when we would get a new car—when we put 135,000 on this one. That was before Toyota’s current problems, none of which we’ve experienced, by the way. Our car has been all but recall free. You have to wonder what went wrong a Toyota since 2004.

Suddenly a trade isn’t looking too good. Despite its quality, our Toyota has lost value beyond the Blue Book’s numbers (between $7400 and $9000). I would imagine I could trade for another Toyota and get better than average on the Blue Book, but what if Toyota hasn’t solved its problems or what if Toyota doesn’t even exist anymore? I am not a risk taker.

So we’ve decided that as long as it runs well, we’re going to keep it until it has no value at all. Just when we thought we had a good car. Well, at least we don’t have car payments. Maybe that’s our car’s value.