Difficult Decisions

Andy Gibb (of Bee Gees fame) during his solo career once said, "Love is higher than a mountain, Love is thicker than water." He was right, of course. Love really does hold us all together, and it really does make the world go around. Love has certainly kept my head above water, and kept me moving in the right direction on more than one occasion.Were they only dependent on love, many decisions would be a lot easier to make.

I was talking to my father the other day and he told me the story of how their beloved cat died. Tigre' was a fun-loving tortoiseshell tabby that my sister got when she was still a girl. It was her cat, and even though there were two russian blues in the house as well, Tigre's outgoing personality really made him the center of attention. He had been diagnosed years ago with diabetes, requiring insulin injections daily. 

As my father put it, the insulin was no big deal. Catch the cat with the needle in hand and it was over in a second. It guaranteed his health. It was an easy thing to do. When, Tigre oddly stopped eating, the family kept a close watch on him to see when his appetite would return. A day passed, then two. Finally he brought the cat to the vet. 

Let me stop here and say that I have tremendous respect for veterinarians and vet-techs for their training and expertise. They are important members of our community, and I value their advice and the care they provide our pets. 

In the case of Tigre, the vet ran some blood tests and did everything possible to find out why Tigre was not eating. They sent my dad and the cat home feeling better, but still worried. He was dead the next morning. Everyone was hurt by the loss of a beloved member of the family. Tigre will be missed. 

What won't be missed is the vet's bill. The final visit ended up costing nearly a thousand dollars. It did not change the outcome. It couldn't. Still, they needed to be paid for the work they did. And they should be, it was owed to them. But it left my dad wondering if it was right.

Some of the most difficult decisions we ever have to make are regarding our pets. Pets are not people, of course. They are covered with fur, have tails and cannot speak and tell us what is wrong. They are animals, and we love them, but they are animals. 

MACY

Because they are animals, I have never been comfortable treating them like they are people, whether they are a loving member of the family or not. I have endured doggy-breath, never taking the vet's advice and having their teeth cleaned. I know that lots of folks swear by the process, and that is their right, but I have never, and probably won't in the future. When my dog locked jaws with a pit bull and proceeded to break her teeth, the vet offered to take them out, but sensing no suffering in the dog, I declined that as well.

I always make sure my dog, Macy's, vaccinations are up to date. I always give her heartworm treatments in the summer (it is Vermont - no bugs in the winter). I have kept tabs on her weight, and made sure she got plenty of exercise. I do take care of Macy, but I am forever conscious of the fact that she is a dog.

So when she got a lump on her chin, I did my homework, looked online and followed the home-therapy advice. I cleaned it and disinfected it, and watched it to make sure it did not get worse. It did. So I took her to the vet in town to get it checked out. They recommended just removing it before it got any worse, and I agreed. Then I got the bill for the visit, and the estimate for what it would cost to have the procedure done.

Wow. (That just about covers it.) The estimate was between $400 and $700 to take a thumbprint-sized mass off of her chin. It was a difficult thing to see as the receptionist went over it with me. Our family is not sitting on so much disposable income, that a bill like that is easy to pay. In shock, I went home to talk about it with my wife.

The vet had said that it might be cancer, and that they would have to send it out to be tested to make sure. They needed to keep her for the day, give her pain medication and put her under for the mass removal. We were forced into the discussion of what we were willing to pay for our dog's health and comfort. We discussed her age (10). We talked about whether or not we would actually give her cancer treatment should the lab tests lean that way.

It is hard to talk about restricting care for someone that you love, but, unfortunately, love is not the only thing to think about. Am I a villain? Is it wrong to vary healthcare by species? Will I be looked down upon by those who might use feline acupuncturists or doggy dentists? Perhaps my view, that my dog is a dog first, then a member of the family, is antiquated. My view might date back to the time when euthanasia of an old dog might be carried out in the back yard with a shotgun. I am nowhere near that savage, but I must admit that paying the bill after losing a friend seemed wrong when my last dog needed to be put down.

Pets are blessed with short (relatively), happy lives full of catnaps and bouncing balls. They are treated like the emperors of the household. They never have to work, or worry. They only need to love us. If care for elderly animals were dependent on only love, they would have enough stored up in the bank for specialists to be brought in from abroad. Unfortunately, it isn't. Unfortunately, these decisions also factor in money and life expectancies. Does that mean that we love our pets less, absolutely not. Does that make us mean?
Maybe.


To let you know, Macy is undergoing the mass removal, but we don't want to know if it is cancerous or not. We decided to let her live out her remaining days with as much happiness and love as possible, and meet her end, if God decides, naturally. We are having the lump removed once. If it comes back, we will love her just as much with it on her chin.

What is appropriate?

It might not have been your first thought, but I am really talking about road uses.
This topic came to me this morning when a couple things happened.

First, I caught the President's comment: "I am looking for whose ass to kick" in relation to the oil spill. That got me thinking about whether that was appropriate or not... Actually, I liked his bravado. It was very John Wayne, very American. We all are pissed about this, and he is merely voicing it. Was it appropriate? perhaps not. Should the leader of the free world be able to say "ass"? I think so. Others don't.

Then, There was a report of a Town of Moretown, VT road meeting last night in which the town selectboard discussed the use and keeping of several Class IV roads. For the uninitiated, Class IV roads are the bottom of the barrel, unmaintained roads that are still legal roads for all sorts of travel. They may only look like dirt paths or horse trails, but anyone with a bicycle or pair of shoes is legally able to travel these roads.

So what? you say, we can also travel on the area's bike paths, and recreation trails. Ok, you are right. but did it ever occur to you that many of them do not really go anywhere? Class IV roads connect towns by unmaintained roads. You can actually go over the top of the mountain to get lunch in the next village. You can take a hike to go someplace, rather than walking along the shoulder of the busy roads. If you have never visited one, you should. They are (thankfully) mapped clearly on the good topographical Vermont book maps, and readily identifiable driving around (if you see Road X East, and Road X West, they connect via the Class IV road).

These connector trails / Class IV roads are really a gem, but for the past few years (like 5) the towns and the state have been trying to decide whether each of them should stay on the roster of town roads. On one hand, they cost nothing, hey are unmaintained. On the other, neighbors who might have been misled by a real-estate professional who did not know any better, do complain when people use them. These folks have camps or live next to a road that might only be used one day a week when folks are out of work and have time on their hands. It might only be used once a month. The rest of the time, they mow across it, or park their cars on it, and never have a second thought.

Until, that is, somebody comes riding through on an enduro motorcycle, or walking by their kitchen window unexpectedly using the Class IV road. "How dare they?" the person might ask. "They didn't even knock and ask first," they might exclaim.

Even though the use might be unexpected, on such an unfrequented road, I argue that it is appropriate. The thing is, when these people have such a knee-jerk reaction to travel on such a road, they might yell at the user, or yell at the town. It is a matter of perspective, from their perspective it might seem like folks are just willy-nilly riding bicycles or driving through their back yard. That is a legitimate concern. If they are crunching the vegetable patch, that could be even worse.

The thing is, that even though they might mow it, it is a road. Just like other roads, it is subject to travel. Travel by anyone, or anything legal for travel along the state's roads. Use is to be expected. Use is why they are there. Towns have been wary of eliminating them because of the potential for some eventual benefits of use down the line.

In city neighborhoods, there is use that is unwelcome. Residents are woken by late night motorcyclists, and early morning garbage4 trucks. Just because the garbage trucks tend to use different roads, does not mean that they should be prevented from using Class IV roads. Neighbors of these thoroughfares need to understand that what is appropriate use, and what they might like to see, might be two different things.

That Barack Obama wants to "kick some ass" is his right as an American. That others would have preferred that he sugar coat the message before saying it on TV, does not make it inappropriate.    

If you support the position to keep Class IV roads open to free travel, please let the Town Clerk know.

Summer in the Springtime

Spring is here in Vermont, but it sure does feel like summer. Temperatures in the 90s do a lot to get folks outside and enjoying the Vermont landscape.

A trip to get creemees after dinner really drove the point home. Of course, we were not the only ones with that plan in mind. I decided to drive the (recently through rehab) Willys Jeep down with the family in tow. Driving with the top off really was the only way to stay comfortable int he car without AC.

I wasn't the only one with that idea either. In the village, while we were struggling to catch ice cream drips before they hit my son's shirt, we witnessed one of the better things that comes back with the warm weather.

It seems like everywhere we looked, we saw motorcycles, convertibles, and classic cars out enjoying the warm weather. I talked for a few minutes with a fellow who had just bought his wife's uncle's 1970 Cutlass Supreme. It was a beautiful orange convertible with a 350 and like-original whitewalls. It still purred through its untouched mufflers; none of the growl I would have added to turn heads in town.

The car was a sight. It had white leather upholstery and brown carpet on the lower half of the doors. The owner had it out to take the kids to the creemee stand, just like us.

This time of year really makes living through the long, cold winter worthwhile. Vermonters can enjoy the outdoors, although slathered in bug spray to ward off the black flies, once again. We come out to plant our gardens. Some of us come out again to re-plant out gardens which were killed by the late snowfall last month. We come out to recreate, perhaps bringing a picnic to the park. We come out to swim, though the water is still a bit cold for my tastes. Most of all, we come out to be with those we love. Adding the summer cars to the mix just makes it that much better.

Real Friends

So it was a nice day for April, and I thought, "Why not?" I would take my '55 to get my daughter from daycare in the village. It was a five mile trip, and I felt confident. I loaded my son in the Jeep and set out.

I had been having trouble with the fuel filter clogging, and had been replacing them regularly, so I installed a cutoff valve. I forgot to open it up.

I ran out of gas in front of my neighbor's driveway.

No big deal, Splash some gas down the carb to re prime it and I'd be off in a jiffy.
I was wrong.

I flooded it, the carb dripped down the engine block and when I tried to start it, a spark caught the gas. It started slowly. I first noticed some smoke, then flames. I got my son out of the Jeep, and shut everything down as much as possible. I had no fire extinguisher with me, and my garage was too far to run for.

Then the cavalry arrived. Dave, a neighbor of mine, and fellow Jeeper happened by on his way home from work. He stopped and watched my son while I went for the fire extinguisher in his car. It was great to have someone pass by whom you could trust like that. There were no questions asked, or worries on either of our parts as I sped away for help, leaving him and my two-year-old on the side of the road watching as the Jeep burned.

I was back minutes later. The extinguisher worked like a charm. The fire was out in a matter of seconds. All were safe, and the crisis was over. Mostly.

He brought us home with enough time to return to the scene to meet the fire chief whom a passer-by had called. A few assurances and an inspection later, he sounded the end of call tones for the approaching engines.

The Jeep? well, there is not much to burn on a old Willys. There is no sound proofing, no insulation. The fire was limited to the distributor, the heater hoses, and some wires. I might have to repaint the hood and cowl, but 90% of the Jeep is fine, and the rest will come along in due time.

I was just lucky that Dave arrived when he did. I owe him a lot for doing what he did.

In case you didn't know, Jeepers are a close bunch. The VJA in particular has done a great job of bringing together a trusted group of people. I don't know of any other civic organizations that would build the level of trust between members required for all of this to happen and end as well as it did.

The old days vs. today

I got this in an e-mail, so it is hardly mine. I liked this too much to not share it here as well.

If you are 30, or older, you might think this is
hilarious!
 
When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with their tedious diatribes about how hard
things were. When they were growing up; what
with walking twenty-five miles to school every
morning.... Uphill...
Barefoot... BOTH ways… yadda, yadda, yadda 
 
And
I remember promising myself that when I grew up, there was no way in hell I was going to
lay a bunch of crap like that on my kids about
how hard I had it and how easy they've
got it!

 But now that I'm over the ripe old age of thirty, I can't help but look around and notice the youth
of today.  You've got it so easy!  I
mean, compared to my childhood, you live in a
damn Utopia!   
And I hate to say it, but you kids today, you don't
know how good you've got it!

 
I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have the
Internet.  If we wanted to know something,
we had to go to the damn library and look it up
ourselves, in the card catalog!!
  
 
There was no email!!  We had to actually write
somebody a letter - with a pen!   Then you had to walk all the way across the street
and put it in the mailbox, and it would take
like a week to get there!  Stamps were 10 cents! 
 
Child Protective Services didn't care if our parents beat us.  As a matter of fact, the parents
of all my friends also had permission to kick
our ass! Nowhere was safe! 
 
There were no MP3's or Napsters or iTunes!  If
you wanted to steal music, you had to hitchhike
to the record store and shoplift it yourself!

 
Or you had to wait around all day to tape it off
the radio, and the DJ would usually talk over
the beginning and @#*% it all up!  There
were no CD players! We had tape decks in our
car..  We'd play our favorite tape and
"eject" it when finished, and then the tape
would come undone rendering it useless. Cause,
hey, that's how we rolled, Baby!  Dig?

 
We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting!
 If you were on the phone and somebody else
called, they got a busy signal, that's it! 
 
There weren't any freakin' cell phones either. If you left the house, you just didn't make a damn call or receive one. You actually had to be out of
touch with your "friends". OH MY GOD !!!
 Think of the horror... not being in touch
with someone 24/7!!!  And then there's
TEXTING.  Yeah, right.  Please!
 You kids have no idea how annoying you are. 

And we didn't have fancy Caller ID either! When the phone rang, you had no idea who it was!  It
could be your school, your parents, your boss,
your bookie, your drug dealer, the collection
agent... you just didn't know!!!  You had
to pick it up and take your chances, mister!


We didn't have any fancy PlayStation or Xbox video games with high-resolution 3-D graphics!
 We  had the Atari 2600! With games like 'Space
Invaders' and 'Asteroids'.  Your screen guy
was a little square!  You actually had to
use your imagination!!!  And there were no
multiple levels or screens, it was just one
screen... Forever!  And you could never
win.  The game just kept getting harder and
harder and faster and faster until you died!
 Just like LIFE! 

You had to use a little book called a TV Guide to
find out what was on! You were screwed when it
came to channel surfing!  You had to get
off your ass and walk over to the TV to change
the channel!!!  NO REMOTES!!!  Oh, no,
what's the world coming to?!?!
 
There was no Cartoon Network either! You could only get cartoons on Saturday Morning.  Do you
hear what I'm saying? We had to wait ALL WEEK
for cartoons, you spoiled little rat-finks!

And
we didn't have microwaves.  If we wanted to
heat something up, we had to use the stove!
 Imagine that!  

And our parents told us to stay outside and play...
all day long.  Oh, no, no electronics to
soothe and comfort.  And if you came back
inside... you were doing chores! 

And car seats - oh, please!  Mom threw you in
the back seat and you hung on.  If you were
luckily, you got the "safety arm" across the
chest at the last moment if she had to stop
suddenly, and if your head hit the dashboard,
well that was your fault for calling "shot gun"
in the first place!

See!
 That's exactly what I'm talking about! You
kids today have got it too easy. You're spoiled
rotten!  You guys wouldn't have lasted five
minutes back in 1980  or any time before!

Regards,

The Over 30 Crowd 
  
(Send this to someone you'd like to make smile)

Take a message

A teacher I knew once covered his classroom's clock with a sign that said "Be Here Now." It is all that a person can ask for from people around them. Perhaps it is the perfect message to our youth. 

The other day someone older than myself commented on how younger people did not have a good work ethic. They were right, of course. Young people, IMO, do have a harder time deciding to get started, a harder time keeping going, and a harder time seeing a job to its end than people even a few years older than themselves.

It might be normal maturation. It might be a factor of our modern civilization. Perhaps we can blame it on MTV like people used to do back in the 80s and 90s.

In the past, older folks, who noticed young people flitting about from one thing to another like a fly checking out a summer barbecue decided that the problem was TV. It had to be. MTV, they said was the cause. It narrowed 'normal' TV from half-hour shows to five-minute videos. People were basically the same. They still got up in the morning, and went to sleep in the evening. They still put their pants on one leg at a time. So they decided the cause of the generational difference in attention span was technology.

Today is no different. People still notice that younger folks are constantly distracted. Today, TV is an accepted piece of life, whether in hour-long or minute-long doses. Few people continue to argue that we should turn off the set and go back to books and board games every night. Today, folks blame the short attention spans and lack of follow through on cell phones, texting, and instant messaging.

All of those things do draw a young person's attention away from those near to them (geographically speaking). (I would be remiss, however, if I did not pause to note how the text messages and such also bring young people together as well. New devices electronically connect friends instantaneously across town, and across the world. They remain connected whether they are sitting bored at home, commuting, or at work. That is a real accomplishment.)

The problem, though, is that there are only so many moments in the day people spend with each other. If young people are constantly surfing Facebook posts or awaiting a chime on their phone, how can they get work done? If they keep a watchful eye on their mobile phone, how can they truly converse with the people around them? Saying, "Hold on," to the people around you does not make up for the fact that you are breaking off from a conversation with them.

Taking a phone call has always warranted an "Excuse me, please." In times past, the person would retire to take their call in a separate room. Today, there are no phone booths left. Maybe we should bring them back. We take calls sitting at a table in a restaurant or in an elevator. We don't think much about it, but it is wrong. It is egocentric to talk on a cell phone when others are around. It distracts you, whether driving, or walking. You, the people around you, and whoever you are talking to all deserve your undivided attention. Giving them less is insulting.

Manners aside, I think it is wrong to keep the cell on all of the time to begin with. When a person really concentrates on his or her work, there is no room left in the brain for an incoming call or text message. Sure, everybody needs a distraction once in a while. Studies have shown that frequent breaks increase productivity. There is, however a difference.

Those studies are talking about working for twenty or thirty minutes, then taking a five minute breather to move and decompress. That pattern of brain activity lets the information sink in. It allows a person to reflect on what they are doing, and make changes so that he or she does it well. When a person works for ten minutes then receives and responds to a text, then works for another minute before the next text comes in, nothing is really getting done. That person is texting, not working. His mind is on the phone, not on his work.

Today we need to acknowledge the vision of our elders. In just the same way that our parents made us turn off the TV while we did our homework, we need to turn off the messaging. We need to admit that there are lots of times, and lots of places that it is just wrong to keep the cell phone on. Movie theaters remind us to turn them off before a picture. We need to be responsible enough to turn them off before getting to the restaurant, or getting into a conversation. There is nothing wrong with letting a few messages build up and then responding to them all at once.

If your face-to-face relationships, and your work can benefit from your undivided attention, why not acknowledge that each is important and turn off your personal distraction device? Maybe old people will begin to notice how much work you are doing, and what you have to say, not how often you excuse yourself.

In this day and age, no one tries to "Stick it to the man." We might not "Fight the establishment" the same way any more. The differences those sayings highlighted years ago between generations do still exist. They will always be there, as sure as ants at a picnic and sand in your swimsuit at the beach. Today we need to recognize them, and do what we can to bridge those generational gaps. The OFF button is the first step. You might be surprised with the results.  MTV might not play videos any more, but now they are an accepted art form.

mayB txtN wl B d nxt art 4m.


ROFL. jst tnk of it ;-P

Getting out

Happy Spring.

Happy Easter as well. It was a wonderful wekend in Vermont. We enjoyed unseasonably warm temperatures, bright sunshine, and no lack of things to do.

I even took the old Willys out for a ride yesterday. It was nice to not freeze in the doorless Jeep. It also was nice to see that the roads are drying up a bit. The thing I liked the best was seeing the people outside once again after the long winter.

As I drove first on a test run, then over to my friend's house, I was heartened to see people stop and wave as I drove by. Sure, that is part of the fun of owning a Beryl Green antique auto, but a lot of that sentiment comes with  the season, here in Vermont.

There were people taking in the last maple buckets  after the spring sap run. They waved as I drove by.
A little down the road, visible only because the trees had not filled in yet, were a couple of guys building a bridge across a creek. They looked up from their work as well. The lady raking her yard did too.

I don't think that it was me, necessarily, that garnered the attention. I think that it is a factor of where we live.

Vermont is a strange sort of place. There are not many of us living here. The entire state, for instance has about the same population as an average sized American city. The difference here is that we are all spread out. There are usually a number of freeways and main artery surface roads that link people together in cities. In Vermont, we all share just one highway. Two if you count the one we share with New Hampshire. Three if you count the seven or so miles of four lane road that Route 7 builds to south of Rutland before dwindling back to two.

So what does it mean? It means that most of us live a little further from eachother than the rest of the world does. It is almost an uncommon thing to see someone driving by our houses. There is really a good chance that if we see people walking on our road, we know their names or at least have a good idea where they live. We can spot Jehovah's Witnesses a mile away.

It is actually a nice feeling. it gives our spread-out populace a small town feel. Those guys were not just looking up from their work as my bright green Jeep drove by. I think that they were curious who was using their road. Aside from neighbors, there might not be a dozen cars down it on a sunny afternoon. I think they genuinely wanted to see who might come a visiting; who might be by to lend them a hand finishing that bridge before the black flies come out. 

The warmer weather certainly brought Vermonters outside this past weekend. Driving home in time for the kids baths and bed on a school night, families could be seen in dooryards, and on front porches together. Campfires were lit against the cold; warming bare arms and legs bleached white over the winter.Vermonters were brought together by Easter traditions, but also by the season. Spring brings us outside. Spring brings us together with our neighbors and family.

As the weather warms, Vermont kicks off her winter blanket of white. The state sends up shoots from the ground and buds from the trees. Each of them call its residents to congregate outdoors. After the long winter, we can really use it.