For these last few days my son Scott, came to Harbour Ridge to play in the Member/Guest golf tournament with me. He is a wonderful golfer and a great young man. Unfortunately his back is broken trying to carry me. With great pain and personal reassessment,  I accepted the fact that I stunk! 

Not to be thwarted I rallied to participate in more intellectual activities like smoking cigars. drinking whatever and feeding my face. I was at the gym this morning at 5:30 trying to shed the effects of my debauchery. Stay tuned. Results in a month. 

I drove my buddy to Fort Lauderdale at 6:30 yesterday morning. It is the only airport that has direct flights to Denver. During the hour plus ride we had a marvelous conversation as a son and dad are wont to do. We reminisced of the last few days and centered in not on golf but the participants. 

Harbour Ridge is beautiful and understated in so many ways. It is a gated community but that is a bit of a misnomer. Scott surmised that Mom and Dad had found what they had been looking for, for many years. There are no pretentious people although I am sure there is plenty of money. This is no recitation of previous glories because it just doesn’t matter. People are comfortable in their skin. It is a great place to live. 

We noted that several dads had brought their sons. To a man whether they were 30 or fifty, they were just genuine people. No attitudes. No arrogance. Maybe the old men were able to pass their modest ways down the food chain. 

Our conversation drifted to try to find that certain something that was there. Scott noted that since he no longer was a member of a club, in some ways HR made him feel a little privileged. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with that. We didn’t want to call it elitism because it really wasn’t. People were too down to earth. Maybe extraordinary takes on a different meaning?

He queried what was special about the whole club scene? For me it is the ability to be yourself and to expect something of your cohorts. Simply put, it is the expectation that people will live up to standards. Not of fame and wealth but of that little word called decency. You keep your shirt tucked in, you don’t wear your hat in the club house and you are respectful to members as well as staff. Act like a gentleman. 

That may sound prissy to some and snobby to others. To both of us it meant good manners and a rare word in today’s world called civility. Webster defines it as a formal politeness and courtesy in behavior or speech. Is that restricted to the upper crust or top 10 or 20%? I think not. It is applicable everywhere. 

Unless you live under a rock, you heard of the shenanigans of one Robert Kraft this weekend. We are treated to an endless barrage of tweets from His Hairness. “Me Too” has exposed the ugly underbelly of management throughout corporate America. There was the GM plant where racism is alive and well. Priests, doctors and coaches are molesting at will. The press hops on a story and then backtracks, sort of, when they realize they have it all wrong. Is this what we have become?

I have often talked about pushing boundaries. I love thinking outside of the box. But all that freedom has its casualties. We are no longer offended by the vulgar. It becomes common place. Crass is our new vernacular.  I laughed as I told my son of what constituted a lurid verse in a song or an X rated film in our day. You can catch that most nights on today’s sitcoms. The eternal question is, have we gone too far?

Those who know me, can vouch I am not a prude. All of us have done and said a variety of things we would not do in front of our mothers. But I think we have to revise the lines we cross to not give wider latitude but maybe pull in the reins a little bit. As we pulled up to the departure curb it struck us both the word we may have been looking for was CLASS.

To our way of thinking  you can have it whether you are a plumber or a banker. It can be in the men’s grill or local bar. It’s an awareness of what is acceptable and what is not. We can all have that touch of class. It is not snooty but decent. Let’s give it a try. 

As Always

Ted The Great

Factoids:

Some of the most common Bad manners that are acceptable:

Cell phone conversations in public

Dressing inappropriately  

Hats on in a restaurant

Foul language in public places

Bad table manners in a restaurant

Rudeness to staff. Forgotten words of please and thank you

Letting children misbehave

Classy People :

My Wife and Kids

Henry Aaron, Joe Torre, Mariano Rivera

Arnold Palmer, Gary Player, Jordan Spieth

Audrey Hepburn, Sean Connery, Matt Damon

George H W Bush, Sorry could not come up with more.

I am reading three or four books at this time, which for me is normal, whatever that is. “One Last Talk” asks what you would say and to whom, if you could have just one more audience before you die. “Oh Florida” is a wacky history of the Sunshine State. Then “American Titan” portrays the twenty something character who started the Silk Road which is where you can buy anything no matter how outlawed or depraved. 

But the one that has truly piqued my interest is “Brain Rules” by John Medina. I often wonder but have not a clue what really goes on in my head. Kathy wonders too. In parsing everything from the mechanical to the emotional, the author lets you delve deep inside your cranium. 

So much of what happens is automatic. Our heart beats, we walk, talk and even write without any difficulty. Yet grasping the incredible amounts of electrical energy and the complexity that goes into raising a glass to our lips or reading Aristotle is simply astounding. Neurons are firing at Mach III and somehow it all works out. 

Yet the simple thought or observance is so chock a block with a zillion factors that push us one way or another it really makes you wonder. 

We view, hear, touch or smell something and we immediately see if we have ever been there before. That’s memory. We decide if this thing is cool or lethal. That’s our survival instinct. And then we act on it for better or worse. If it’s pleasurable, we want to relish the moment. If it is scary, our adrenalin kicks in and we want to get the hell out of there. All in a nanosecond. 

It seems if we are emotional our ganglia take on a whole new sense of attention. We listen closer. We peer with Sherlock intensity. The amazing thing is we do not readily remember detail but put all our brain power into getting the gist of something. And we make our decisions based on that emotion. It takes you down a distinct path that is hard to deviate from.

Fake news or not the media play with our heads. They want to punch our buttons. If you are liberal the sight of a child being wrenched from their parents at the border sends you through the ceiling with rage. If you are conservative you are shown immigration officials taking every effort to make sure we are respectful and understanding. Same sequence. Totally different conclusions for the same set of circumstances.  

Advertising plays us like an A Flat. We laugh, we cry, or we want to rise up at a relatively simple situation. It is in essence an occurrence or a setting that has no feeling on its own. But how it is viewed and analyzed by you and me gets to our innards. Man, if I can be like that person I am gong to go out and buy a lifetime supply. You thought dudes selling elixirs out of a suitcase were dead. They are alive and well. 

One part of the book was demoralizing. It blew up my favorite myth…the human brain can multitask. Not so, mes amis. In order to go through any thought, there are a set of sequences as I have described above. You have to do them all. You may decide to put down one project or pick up another. You may think you have a million ideas going through your brain at once. It cannot happen. I am of course, biased and devastated.

Think about it. If you are driving and talking on the cell phone or God forbid texting, your hands may be on the wheel but you are far away on a call for business or pleasure. We say we lost concentration but we are just thinking of different things….one at a time. Remember that nanosecond shifting of gears we can do. 

Bottom line is that we have this wonderful thing called our mind and it is so complex but oh so beautiful. It is part of the greatest machine of all times, our bodies. The grey matter operates in world of its own. It is the director. The veins, arteries, pumps, muscles operate on cue. We think of artificial intelligence and we are awed by it. We ought to look in the mirror and be blown away. 

My final thought is simple. We think we have control over everything. Our ingenuity has helped us cross so many frontiers. Do you really think this marvel that is us, just happened by accident or a process of evolution? Doesn’t it appear be in the realm that we were created and not manufactured or grown in a lab? I don’t know about you but I am not ballsy enough to think there is not a higher Being. Makes one feel pretty grateful to Him, Her or It. . How about you?

As always

Ted The Great 

Factoids:

The brain continues to send out electric wave signals until approximately 37 hours after death.

Our Brain has over 100 billion nerve cells. Only four percent of the brains cells work and the remaining cells are kept in reserve.

Your bones, pound for pound, are 4 times stronger than concrete.

The muscles of the eye move more than 100,000 times a day.

It takes 17 muscles to smile and 43 to frown. You use 200 muscles to take one step.

An average car being driven 15,000 miles per year eats through $8,469. How much do you spend taking care of  your brain and body?

Just imagine you are standing there fat, dumb and happy and all of a sudden this roundhouse curve hits you square in the jaw. You are stunned and begin to stagger. As you regain your senses you assess what planet you are on and what is your next course of action. 

Reality sucks! No matter who you are or who your daddy is, you are going to find that bump in the road. Adversity is a part of life whether physical or emotional. You can lose your job or your shirt in some half assed scheme. Your spouse leaves you. You miss that clutch putt. You are a Bear’s fan and the ball bounces the wrong way. Even worse you are a Saint’s fan and you did nothing wrong. TS, mes amis. 

Now it is not that I am heartless. I have been there more times than I care to tell. You are battered and bruised. You are not sure which hurts more, your body or your ego? You feel stupid. You feel alone. How could it possibly be any worse?

Then deep down inside that little spark of a thing we call resilience seems to stir. You assess the situation. Are we talking a glancing or fatal blow? Is it as bad as it seems? Better yet can we somehow devise a plan B? And therein is the difference between an optimist and a pessimist. Glass half full or half empty.

I am always amazed at human emotions. There are people today that wring their hands constantly. They moan and groan about everything large and small. They are convinced the world and humanity are in a nosedive that we won’t come out of. 

There is a pessimist philosophy which is not so much an emotional reaction but a way of looking at life. It feels that progress is irrational and our inability to achieve things with greater results just sets us up for failure and its ensuing discomfort. Yuck!

I do know some that set very low goals for themselves. They figure if they set the bar low enough they either can’t fail or the drop will be minimal. They see me in the gym and say they could never do that. Get up and sing? What are you nuts? They beg off discussions feeling their words and thoughts are rather insignificant. That is their prerogative but I can’t help but feel badly for them. 

Enter the optimist. Stage right. Churchill’s famous quote that “a pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.” I am not sure that is completely true. One does not bounce up off the mat without a little cut that needs to be attended to. But after a little TLC, get over it and let’s move on.

I like to play, “What is the worse thing that could happen?” When you answer that, you ask it again and again until you should realize that things are not quite so desperate as we make them out to be. That is unless Kathy finally says,Adios Big Boy! Now that would be cause for serious concern. 

We look at sports stars like the hated Tom Brady. No?. OK, How about Patrick Mahomes ? The kid is a magician very much akin to Houdini. Politicians? How about Bill Clinton escaping  the Monica thing? I do want to watch carefully  to see how the Donald does in the next three weeks. But time after time people bend but don’t break.

You can ask is it something special in them or the human spirit? I prefer the latter. Go back to our survival instincts. We fight back. We try harder. We dust ourselves off and get back in the fray.  It is not a super gene but rather an acquired talent. 

The last part is the best. When you look at life and especially here in these United States you can’t help but feel gratitude. When you are thankful you realize all we have. You look around and take everything in and then you laugh at yourself. My daughter Megan has a perfect saying when she encounters someone bitching. “Well that is really a third world problem isn’t it!” How right she is. 

I know people hurt from time to time and some bear more than others. I am not trying to be Pollyanna. But having been on the dark side I can’t tell you how much better it is to look on the bright side. If you are breathing you are ahead of the game. If you had at least one meal today you are better than lot of other people. If you are able swing a golf club who cares what your score is? 

As always

Ted The Great 

Factoids:

Optimistic  people have less stress, better immune systems, live longer and of course are nicer to be around.Pessimism has been linked to mental health issues such as anxiety, stress, and depression

Dr Martin Seligman has clinically proven that optimism can be taught and learned. He has written a book called Learned Optimism. Easy read and a number of pathways to getting you straight.

There are no hard facts on percentages of people who feel optimistic. It depends on the topic. Also we feel more optimistic about our own personal future than about our country or the world. Lastly the people who are most optimistic are the Chinese.

Murders, car wrecks and threatening weather are what sells newspapers and air time on news channels. 

Last night Kathy and I went to the Lyric Theater in beautiful downtown Stuart.
The Lyric is about 100 years old and some of the patrons can attest to that. It is in a word unique and the restoration bespeaks a labor of love.

Tonight’s show/concert  was one of many throughout the season. We usually sign up for four or five of them. The main event was a fellow by the name of Arthur Migliazza. Obviously not a stage name. His forte was boogie woogie / ragtime / eight to the bar, piano playing. Looking forward to being entertained I became entranced. 

Whether it is Scott Joplin, Fats Domino, Earl “Fatha” Hines or Jerry Lee Lewis we have all heard this toe tapping, foot stomping music at sometime in our lives. It evolved from negro blues bands in the late 1800’s and found its voice and acceptance in the Roaring 20’s. It gets to you and I think that is why the word “visceral” was invented. 

The man is a magician. His sleight of hand includes chords to the left and melody on the right while pounding the pedals with one foot and keeping time with the other. Oh, and of course he threw in soulful vocal renditions of some classics. Mind blowing. I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time.

As I listened, I slipped into a bit of reverie. I love music of all sorts. I started to go through the genres that I have experienced and they ran the gamut. My teens were in the

 Doo Wop era. You went from the frenetic twist to hand holding submarine watching slow dances. A girl asked me in the fifth grade if I wanted to participate in the latter sport and I didn’t have a clue. I learned fast.

College brought the Four Tops,Beatles, Stones and an introduction to dixieland jazz. Conden’s and Jimmy Ryan’s in NYC were the classrooms and at least I was a good student at something. Even a trip to DAR Hall in DC to hear Ferde Grofe’s Grand Canyon Suite gave a little class to my repertoire. 

I won’t bore you with a recitation of the ensuing eras but it fascinates me how music has affected so much of my life. Invariably in the car or at home I tune into something and tune out our crazy world. While driving if I get Bob Seger and the Silver Band on, I hit max on my Bose car system until I see the side windows pulsate and the whompa, whompa of the bass as it gets to your innards. People might regard me at some kind of idiot from the hood. And for awhile I am.

I am a scientific type so I started researching why this feels so good. Seems our desire for food, sex and sleep is based on a survival thing. In your pursuit of the aforementioned your brain releases dopamine. A funny thing happened on the way to the concert hall. Music though not necessary to exist releases the same little hormone. It is called emotional arousal. And all this time you thought it was puberty. 

Scientists call this an abstract reward and not a tangible one. Music brings back memories both good and bad and that’s okay. If I listen to the Music of the Night from The Phantom or an aria from Pavarotti I know when the best part is coming and I love it. Ditto Hey Jude or Chicago doing Getting Stronger Every Day. How about Mick Fleetwood pounding away in Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow? All symptoms of a misspent youth but who cares?

For the most part all this good stuff costs nothing. Pandora is free and you only get one ad every fifteen minutes. Your car radio dial is chock a block with everything you need. The best part is no one telling you how to do it or about what you just heard. Beauty is in the mind of the beholder. 

So sometime today or tomorrow just sit back and listen. Get that dopamine going as if it was crack cocaine. Sing in the shower or even out the car window. Far from the madding crowd. It’s your own little world. Enjoy it!

As always 

Ted The Great

Factoids:

There are approximately 97 million songs in existence. Around 1 million new ones come out each year. Pandora is the result of a music genome project and categorizes them by style, musician, or era. I have a lot of listening to do. 

Singing in the shower works because the tiles do not absorb sound but reflect it. The notes bounce off the walls and you actually sound better. Kind of like the reverb button on your old car radio. 

 A new study from the University of London’s Institute of Education has found that exposing children to classical music can aid in developing better concentration levels, self-discipline and social skills.

The music business generated $43 billion in revenue in 2017. That could build the Wall. Sadly, the artists who wrote and performed the grist for that mill received only 12% of the take. 

For the uninitiated, Ted’s Head is one man’s attempt to make sense of our crazy world. I have been on sabbatical for the last six months after writing weekly for  some seven and a half years. I hope I have not lost too many readers in the process. As ever I consider myself just an average Joe who just wants people to think and communicate. Here goes:

It’s Been Awhile

Six months is an eternity in our non stop rock’m sock’m world. People have gone to jail. Many are headed there. Nothing shocks us anymore.  Whether it is future president’s trysts with strippers or or scandalous execs rigging emissions tests we just accept it as ordinary and ho hum. A sense of morality or decency is now becoming a distant memory.  That can’t be good.

There are several sides to the equation and they are getting further and further apart. Seems everybody wants to be recognized and has an axe to grind. The common good has given way to “me only”. As we take the scalpel to bisect our national DNA looking for the real me, we lose sight of the whole and it’s every man or woman for themselves. We categorize ourselves into so many little bits and pieces, to be American is hard to define.

Here in Denver, I am sitting in my wonderful old leather chair that I bequeathed to my son in law . We are visiting for a few days. We went to mass this AM and it was just great. Most Precious Blood Church is a special place with music from five musicians and 10 in the choir for the 7:30 mass. Astounding for Catholics or for that matter any religion. The place exudes community. People are there not because they have to but they want to. It works. 

My buddy, Fr Pat still works his magic. He takes a story thousands of years old and weaves it into an isight for today. He is clever and at times irreverent. My kind of guy. He spoke of special friendships and it really got me thinking about my life today and of yore. 

Kathy and my existence  has changed in no small way. In Florida we live in a gated community of sorts but it is not your stereotypical older community. Sure we play golf and dine and of course drink a bit, but there is a lot more. These people are involved in the community in so many ways. Our garage was the repository for several dozen red bags that contained gifts for poor families  in Indiantown. Two nuns run the Hope Rural School there and the many ladies here have taken them under their wing. One of a slew of  charities we support.

Hospice here is a bit different. It took awhile for the eastern nurses to accept this maniac who came through the door with a grin and open arms. What is this dude up to, they thought? Can’t blame them. The ice thawed and I think they actually look forward to my coming Monday mornings. 

Many patients die alone and a lot of my time is just sitting with them to make sure that doesn’t happen. Some are forgotten but some just don’t have family here. Others have issues not only with themselves but with their families. You operate somewhere between a referee and a problem solver at times. Much more complicated than Denver. If you think you have problems, think again?

At Harbour Ridge we have made a lot of friends and some of the have become very close in a short period time. At a moment’s notice you can have some wonderful conversations about a variety of topics. I have instituted “Cigars and Scotch” once a month to replicate in some way my buddies at Churchills in the Brown Palace. Belly laughs encouraged. Controversy verboten.

After Pat’s homily I thought about how incredibly lucky I am to have friends everywhere. Not just casual, “Hey, How you doin?,” but compadres who let me or themselves get down and dirty. How does that happen? Dunno. Does it work for everyone? Not quite sure. It also intrigues me I have both male and female friends and feel equally comfortable with both. Good stuff but again why?. 

I hope this isn’t stretching it too far but perhaps that is what is missing today? We don’t take time. We make on the spot decisions as to people and issues. We are set in our ways and there is no budging. To listen is akin to acquiescing. I can’t be wrong and you can’t be right. Acceptance is for wimps. Going deep in thought and conversation makes us vulnerable and God forbid for the guys, feminine. That’s my story and I am sticking with it, becomes the mantra.  

We for years have praised and depended on institutions to provide and example to follow, but there are all sorts of chinks in that armor. Whether it is church, government or business they have failed miserably under closer scrutiny. Why do they lie, cheat, bully and generally disregard what we hope were good and moral upbringings? Greed and power always work but perchance it is just a giant dose of insecurity. Too simple?  I don’t think so.

Being content doesn’t mean you can’t strive. Being ordinary does not beget boredom. Looking at someone and having a great conversation does not necessitate that I am better or worse than you. Egoism is rampant today. We keep track of what we have but not what we can do for someone else. We want to show what we know rather than what we can learn. 

I chuckle at that because I am so stupid at so many things. That does not particularly bother me. I just hope I don’t run out of time to get my act together. Hey, I get as complacent as everyone else and then that little thing inside of me says, get your ass in gear. Disconcerting but in the long run a ton of fun. Fascinating stuff. 

Enough for this time. I will close by saying it is good to be back. I may not do this weekly. I may become more random. How shocking! TTG random???  But it is great to talk to you all once again. I miss you. It’s good to be human. It is good to share. Tis  the season for it, isn’t it? Merry Christmas to all and,

As always

Ted The Great. 

Factoids:

Research has shown that giving makes us far happier than receiving. Thus, in a way, we are actually being both selfish and selfless by giving to others. 

Psychologists have long known there are perks to singing, but more information is continuing to emerge: A global 2017 study of more than 1,700 choir members found that singing in a group improved a person’s well-being because it created social connection and cognitive stimulation…so belt out a carol or two in church, your shower or a street corner.

Insecurity: Emotional insecurity or simply insecurity is a feeling of general unease or nervousness that may be triggered by perceiving of oneself to be vulnerable or inferior in some way, or a sense of vulnerability or instability which threatens one’s self-image or ego.

Smiling has a positive effect on mood and perceived energy levels. Smiles project happiness and confidence by softening other facial features. Smiling can be heard. Most people can determine whether the person they are speaking to over the phone is smiling by the tone and rhythm of voice. Go ahead and try it.
See it works!

TTG or Ted The Great is actually my spoof on superiority. Years ago I called an old friend who had become a high up exec. His rather officious secretary demanded to know who was calling? I replied,Ted. Icily she asked, Ted who? I for some unknown reason blurted out, Ted The Great. The rest is history.

I have been thinking about this for awhile. I am going to be taking some time off from Ted’s Head. I have been at it for over seven years and as I look back, a multitude of things have shaped our world. I have tried to decipher them and make some sense of them. Can’t say I have always been successful. 

During that time frame I have written over 375 of these epistles or essays. Some of you think they are too long. Some of you feel I should provide more answers instead of just posing questions. Some like this one or that. I am always quite surprised at those who respond and how they hit you. I thank all of you, whether you have seen fit to comment or not, for just listening. 

I wish I could say I am tired and slowing down. Not so. Sorry Kath, I still have my boundless energy. I do feel I am getting somewhat repetitive and probably a tad stale. Maybe a better word is frustrated at my inability to create a form of discourse. I am in a pit as to our current circumstances. We have lost our civility and yes our moral compass if  that does not sound too preachy. 

I speak up and have my share of arrow scars as a result. I just can’t sit there and let things go amiss without at least a well meaning attempt to set things right. I feel sorry for and at the same time get furious at different sections of our society. 

I am a capitalist and want  people to be successful. At the same time I abhor the filthy rich for their ostentatiousness and air of superiority. Yet I am continually blown at their huge monetary contributions and service on not for profit boards.Go figure

 My heart goes out to the poor and struggling while I see fraud and corruption tinge every effort to help them out. There are a whole bunch of people who should not be on disability or food stamps but the system accepts that as a cost of doing business. LBJ’s Great Society wound up costing $1 trillion. What do we have to show for it?

So many people in these United States game the system. If we totaled up all the ill gotten funds it would probably wipe out poverty and our national debt in one fell swoop. The Bernie Madoffs et al are notorious, yet for every one they catch there are probably hundreds they don’t. As it becomes more commonplace the more we accept it as fact. It dulls our sense of morality and that is the most dangerous part of all. 

You may think I am preaching religion but I am not. You can be a Jew, Muslim or atheist and it really doesn’t matter to me. I am talking about decency and that incorporates a respect and love of your fellow man. The rancor that fills our airwaves and electronic devices becomes all the more difficult to stop as we transfer that into all of our communication. We want to break ourselves down into smaller and smaller groups demanding a thing we call identity. It soon becomes all for none. 

There are good people and bad people. At last count I think the good guys are still winning. But it is the malcontents that seem to have control of the conversation and that really galls me. We listen to psychobabble and talking heads and take it for Gospel truth. We nod approvingly and and that gives them gravitas. Bad news sells. Good news and upbeat reporting are boring. 

We are taking trip to Alaska at the end of July. We will spend some time in Denver and the mountains with our kids and friends. I am going to research some topics that interest me. They cover the gamut of preventive health/wellness to the psychology of men. I am going to try to learn more of our environs here in Florida. I may even outline a book. 

So for now I will bid you adieu. It has been a wonderful ride and thank you to so many for tagging along. I have just tried to share me with you…warts and all. Just going down life’s highway. There is still a whole lot to see. 

As always,

Ted the Great

Factoids:

If there are 375 Ted’s Heads out there that means I have pounded out almost 400,000 words of this and that. It takes about 5-8 minutes to reread them as I edit. It might take you 15 minutes but for some that is too much.

My mind is full of facts and information. Some useful, some not. I read two to three papers a day and do at least two crosswords, especially on Sundays. I get lost for an hour or two and tackle the LA Times and NY Times in succession. 

I play golf at least three and sometimes four times a week. I enjoy, a glass of red, a vodka and diet tonic or a couple of fingers of a Scotch or Irish whiskey neat. Not all at once. I work out 4-5 times a week not to stay in shape but to support my bad habits. Maduro cigars keep cropping up on my to do list. 

Kathy and I have been married for 47 great years. We have a great deal of fun and joke every day. I tell her all the time how beautiful she looks. She truly is. I try to say something funny every night before we go to sleep. It keeps us young. We have 3 great kids and spouses and 7 grandkids from 7-14 that we adore. We are incredibly lucky….and that’s the all the facts I care to divulge. 

For the uninitiated TTFN means TaTa For Now.

Here in Fla La Land, the biggest no no is to ask someone how they feel? They usually tell you in great detail. Known as an “Organ Recital” you get far more information than you really want to know. It happened to yours truly yesterday at the Martin Health Urgent Care. 

I have been gradually getting sicker by the day with flu symptoms but true to form I wanted to avoid any contact with the medical profession. Not because of any fear or disdain but rather it would be admitting that I am no longer invincible. It is a status I have treasured for a long time even if it is my own mind. 

A nice nurse went through the litany of forms and asked I how felt? I was going to say “like shit” but we had just met so I kept it semi classy. Fever? Check. Stuffy nose? Ditto. Achy? Oh yeah. She asked on a scale of one to ten I blurted 7 without hesitation. I was really hurting. At least for me

As I sat staring at the walls of a functional but boring treatment room I thought about my response. Was it really that bad? Was I acting like a wuss? I got the guilts. There are a helluva lot of people with more pain than I was experiencing in this man’s world. The last thing I wanted to be known as is a wimp. 

I figured I would just get the “six pack” and be on my way but the doc thought otherwise. I was prescribed a thing called Tamiflu and steroids. Steroids? I could see my lovely wife now suing this operation for mental cruelty. Ted The Great on Steroids? I thought he already was? Turns out these little white wonders reduced inflammation. Better living through chemistry. More on that later. 

This whole concept of pain started cogitating in my various cranial lobes  as the day wore on. It is so profound in everything psychological as well as physiological and yet it is completely subjective. My buddy Pete is getting a new knee tomorrow. Rest assured his level of discomfort post op is going to be a lot worse than mine. The Bushes feel the pain of loss but what about that for the woman that was killed by a freak accident on that Southwest flight? 

I looked up the medical definition: a state of physical, emotional, or mental lack of well-being or uneasiness that ranges from mild discomfort or dull distress to acute often unbearable agony that may be generalized or localized. That covers a lot of  waterfront and appropriately so. It is the number one reason for people seeking medical help. 

By default pain relief from OTC analgesics to prescriptive opioids is off the charts in the United States. Advil, Tylenol, Aspirin etc are in everyone’s medicine chest. But now opiods,Oxy, Percaset etal, are written  to the astounding number of 150,000,000 prescriptions per annum. That is not capsules but just the  scrips for who knows how many pills? 

If you add in emotional pain, ergo antidepressants, you get the idea that billions upon billions in drug dosages and who knows how much more on therapeutic sessions go into us being free from pain. I can really get philosophical by adding in how much we spend on booze, pornography and overeating to make our troubles go away? Ridiculous you say. I say not.

Now neither I nor you want to see people hurting but going back to the subjective aspect of all this, isn’t it ripe for hype and malfeasance? What concerns me most is the siren’s call of carefree living might go against everything we know to be true of our world and its real life. 

Life is not a bowl of cherries. Nirvana or Edens are lofty goals but not really attainable. Things go wrong by our own mistakes, those of others or just life itself. That woman yesterday who lost her life on that plane, happened to be sitting next to a window of which there were probably 150 just like it throughout the aircraft. The odds of a piece of the engine flying off from a protective cowling and hitting at that exact spot to where the window broke were ridiculous. 

We  Americans, have been lulled by our good fortune, technology and modern medicine into believing that we can be insulated from anything bad happening to us. We really don’t know the strife that is rampant in other parts of our planet. I am not saying we have to don a hair shirt but Geez Louise let’s try to define what is really difficult and what is a minor distraction.

I mentioned the steroids I was prescribed for my achiness. Now I abuse my body by among other things, over exercising. Why shouldn’t I at the ripe old age of now 73, work out, hit golf balls and maybe take a three or four mile walk or run? So I hurt a little? Big deal. I will only be popping pills for a strictly regimented 4 days but I can’t begin to tell you how my overall soreness has abated after 36 hours. 

I would be a bold faced liar if I told I didn’t consider what life would be like if I took a few of these babies  long term. I consulted my good buddy and golfing friend, Dr. Pat about this and he just smiled. Wonder drugs he said and yet they are ripe for abuse. Got it, Coach. I’ll take my medicine in the form of recurring pain.
How do I feel? What do you think? I am lucky beyond all contemplation. Do I have setbacks? Of course. But just think about how I am doing  not just as a resident of Harbour Ridge, or whatever percent of the economic scale I am in or even just a resident of the United States and the free world in general? Pretty damn good, aching bones and all. I’ll take that any day and keep my mouth shut.

As always 

Ted The Great

Factoids:

The US population of 320 million is approximately 5% of the world and we consume over 80% of the supply of opio.We have 27% of the world’s overdose deaths.  Over the past decade, out-of-state drug companies shipped 20.8 million prescription painkillers to two pharmacies four blocks apart in a Southern West Virginia town with 2,900 people

U.S. health care spending increased 4.3 percent to reach $3.3 trillion, or $10,348 per person in 2016. 32%($1.1trilion )of that cost was for hospital stays. 20%($665billion) for physician and clinical care and 10% ($330billion) was for drugs. 

As per 2018 Happiness Report, Finland is the happiest country in the world,^[20] with Norway, Denmark, Iceland, and Switzerland holding the next top positions. We came in 19th because of reduced social support and corruption. Does money buy happiness? Of the 30 richest Finland is 30 and the US is 13th? As usual my info is sometimes useless but always interesting. At least to me.

Monday,Monday….

I spend Monday mornings at Hospice as a volunteer. When I mention this, people get sort of weird. Some profess they could never do what I do, which is really not thatextraordinary. You just be yourself and reach out to people.

Sometimes they accept and other times they reject and even give you dirty looks. That’s okay it’s their call and for once in my life it has absolutely nothing to do with me. It is completely and utterly about them.

A couple of weeks ago I had “jumper” duty. We are single story operation so nobody was leaping from the window sills. It seems two of our residents had a wanderlust in their final hours of life. In their confused state they took to roaming the halls in their wheelchairs much to the dismay of staff. When I arrived at 7:30 one poor soul had been on the go since 2:00AM and was now in the nurses station for his protection and the on duty’s sanity. I occupied their time for several hours by just talking about everything under the sun. I am always grateful for an audience. It’s what I do.

Point being, you never know what to expect. We have had munchkins visiting Kathy and me for the last two weeks with the last crew leaving Easter Sunday morning. I have to admit I wasn’t totally bright eyed and bushy tailed as I walked through the door for my tour of duty. The nurses told me they had two patients whose families could use some TLC. They had a ways to go in the process and were a bit at sea. I introduced myself and engaged in some small talk to see if they were approachable.

One woman was there with her husband. I could tell right away she got it and as it turns out had been through this before with a previous spouse. As we talked she kept a close eye on her beloved for any signs of discomfort or stress. She told me of their life story and their love was beyond evident. Nothing fancy but as satisfying and fulfilling as two people could get. Just a wonderful couple. Pretty neat.

I had other rounds to make so I told her I would be back in awhile. I went and chatted with an Italian family who had started in Brooklyn. Where else? Dad had been a WW II vet and at 93 his time had come. Everyone was beyond accepting and a little self consciously the room took on an air of a Sunday night dinner with the sedate Vito as the guest of honor. Pass the red and some pasta please. But something that I can’t describe kept me wanting to go back to Room 11. I bade arriverdverci to my paisanos and and moved back down the hall.

When I entered the room again my woman friend was in a chair reading the newspaper. Her husband was on his side and his breaths had become measurably shorter in a relatively short period of time. Not totally unusual but noticeable. We talked of the news and the challenges we all feel even in this horn of plenty. She was a pragmatic optimist not unlike myself.

All of a sudden she stood up and went to her husband’s side as if something was terribly amiss. I sensed it at the exact same instant. He had transitioned in a matter of moments and the end was near. I know this may sound creepy but it isn’t. You are all of a sudden witnessing the end of life’s journey that began so long ago at one’s birth. It really is a celebration of life as we know it.

In a spontaneous moment we started saying prayers. Turned out they were Catholic and the Our Fathers and Holy Marys flowed easily. Not just the monotone recitals we all do but really praying from the heart. “Now and the hour of our death, Amen” became incredibly poignant.

I moved to the back of the room and left her to her thoughts and a cry that had been building for weeks. I remember many years ago when my son Scott was born. In those days the father being in the delivery room was still new. The ob/gyn wanted to meet me to make sure I was not going to my knees during the process. As we talked he related how incredible it was. There are four or five in the birthing room and then all of a sudden there are six. Today I mused there were three of us in this hospice room and all of sudden there were two. The cycle of life was complete.

In my many years of volunteering I have been through that final breath several times. It is always a particularly privileged moment. But this one struck me in such a different way. Usually I have known the patient and his or her family for weeks if not months. We are friends who have shared for awhile. This was like a lightning strike. No time to prepare. Everything off the cuff…and without time for calculation.

What struck me most was the willingness of human beings to open up and to share. To feel our own mortality and vulnerablity. To be human in every sense of the word. In this crazy impersonal world we live in, it was a testament that it could be done. I am incredibly fortunate to have been there. I hope I got this right because it hit me so beautifully. Life is good.Live it and let it happen, my friends.

As always
Ted The Great

Factoids:

Every year approximately 2.6 million pass on in the US. Over 93% are due to natural causes versus death by accident, murder or suicide. Still over 80% choses to die in hospitals as opposed to Hospice or home health care.

No matter the locale there are caregivers. I work one shift a week for a few hours. The dedicated professionals work 12 hours shifts. They really are the angels of mercy and are beyond loving and caring. There is a sign in the nurse’s station in Denver, “Angels Gather Here.” How true.

After I walked that woman to her car I came back in to the nurses and pronounced to the RN and CNA, “We done good, kids!” We sure did.

As I approach my 73 birthday, this little query popped up on my radar screen. It seems appropriate but before you all answer for me I thought I would wrestle with the concept for a bit. Now it seems the term can be used in science, economics and law but I am going to tend towards the most simplistic. Definition: appropriate to the current time, period, or circumstances; of contemporary interest.

What does all that mean? On a product level you have something that meets the needs of the moment. Whale oil worked back when as a source of energy but today it is forgotten. We used to have Boom Boxes but now we have IPhones. Cars used to have fins and hood ornaments but now are sleek and aerodynamic. Houses even ten years old now seem “dated.” Tastes change and we are susceptible to the search for better and better stuff even if the old ones are more than adequate.

On the world front, nations drift in and out of relevancy. Russia is a great example. From a Cold War superpower to a breakup and now trying once again to be part of the discussion. The British Empire is no longer supreme after it had ruled the world for so long. China, Greece, Spain, Israel, Palestine, South America, all long for prominence and seek their place in the world order. Ergo being relevant.

On the personal front this becomes intriguing. For instance sports or entertainment stars all have their moment in the sun. Is this a brief stint or a lasting legacy? They become our heroes or heroines to be adulated and then tossed aside as yesterday’s news. Some just grow old and others mange to create their own self destruction. The public is fickle and harsh.

My relevance as a human being might relate to my color, race, creed, status or sexual orientation. Blacks, white supremacists, Muslims, Catholics, Jews, Serbs, Somalis, Vietnamese all drift in and out of our collective consciousness. Gays were lepers and transgenders not even defined a decade or so ago. CEO’s one day had everyone fawning at their every move and now are relegated to relative obscurity.

People don’t go down easy as they seek their former notoriety. We are chock a block with comebacks and reincarnations. It seems the limelight is seductive and heady stuff. You now sit on boards or become a spokesperson. Chair of this fundraiser or that. Don’t get excited. It just means your are writing a bigger check. Wait! Do you know who I am? Sorry Charlie, you are no longer a Star Kist Tuna.

I believe we all desire to be worth something in someone’s eyes. It is a combination of wanting to belong and wanting to contribute in some way. It is that crazy thing called ego by which we define ourselves. We strive. We compare. Everyone keeps score and don’t for a second try to deny it. It makes us complete and yet can lead to our downfall.

The spate of shootings and bombings are more than weird people doing crazy things. I am not condoning their mayhem but for a moment think of their circumstance. Let’s say you were born to someone who really didn’t want you or didn’t have the ability to take care of you. Your early years weren’t filled with cuddles but rather you were beaten or just plain old neglected in front of the TV. No guidance, no role models, no love. You are not relevant to anyone.

Now you say that is the problem with blacks and Hispanics today. They don’t have a family structure. Beware of casting stones. Look around you and see screwed up rich kids as well. Single parents cross economic lines. Psychological problems among our higher echelons of society are in a way more perverse. It comes back to all of us wanting to be relevant and worthy. Or even worse the judge of that.

The crowd is cruel. They make anonymous judgements. They could care less of their outcomes. That taunt and they bully. Some of us have the wherewithal and internal gumption to either fight back or take solace in our own self assessment. Some are scarred for life and decide to take their own lives and others as well to give a final up yours to society. It is at once almost Inevitable and yet so incredibly sad.

When I look at myself I am no longer relevant in many situations. I worked hard on my Creek in Denver but who remembers that guy. Wall Street? Vail? Arizona? A long long time ago. I love young people but I am not sure I am in their purview. That’s not a tragedy but how life goes.

I take great joy in my wife and my wonderful family. I have great friends and am more than fortunate to live where I do and the way I do. But something else has happened.I really don’t take myself too seriously. I have concentrated on other people’s relevance and probably put my own on a back burner. It’s not so much about me(well maybe a little) but more about them.

I take great delight in reaching out to people. I will say hello to anyone and everyone, much to my family’s chagrin. You can be the biggest celebrity or the checkout person at Publix.You are all the same. I want to make your day. I want to let you know you matter. It is not a put on. You do! If I can get a smile out of some sourpuss or see a glance of recognition from a waiter or store clerk it makes my day. It just what I do and I hope it makes me slightly relevant.

If this sounds like palp you are welcome to your own judgement call. But just think how simple it is. It costs nothing to reach out. Be understanding and welcoming. Don’t try to gauge someone’s relevance to your life. Just think about theirs. Works for me.

As always
Ted The Great

Factoids:

As I have traveled the world I also ask the baristas at Starbucks what percentage of people say please and how many say thank you. The best was Aukland NZ….about 75%. The worst? Vail,CO 0% I said no way but that night we went to a high end bar. I asked the bartender the same. He replied, “They don’t even know I exist.”

Bullying is a complex social phenomena. 28% of kids grades 6-12 report instances. Parents are aware of the bullying about 50% of the time and teachers only about 10%. Suicidal ideation is already present in many that are bullied. It just adds to the problem. Bullies have a higher social status and use it to enforce their will and overcome any objections from observers. Girls are more likely to be verbally abused and boys physically.

There is good reason to be concerned about social connection in our current world. Loneliness is a growing health epidemic. We live in the most technologically connected age in the history of civilization, yet rates of loneliness have doubled since the 1980s. Today, over 40% of adults in America report feeling lonely, and research suggests that the real number may well be higher. Additionally, the number of people who report having a close confidante in their lives has been declining over the past few decades. In the workplace, many employees — and half of CEOs — report feeling lonely in their roles.

Benefits of Smiling:
• Improved Mood. Smiling can boost your mood when you’re feeling blue, and may be beneficial for people struggling with anxiety and depression. …
• Lower Blood Pressure. …
• Stress Relief. …
• Better Relationships. …
• Stronger Immune Function. …
• Pain Relief. …
• Longer Life.

Need I say more.

A wonderful old friend of many years is visiting. At lunch yesterday we discussed how we have gotten to this state which on the one hand seems so wonderful and on the other is such an incredible mess. For my part in the conversation I said we have lost touch with one another. Not just by our dependence on the electronic world to entertain and teach us but by our inability or desire to recognize we are in this together.

Our dependence on wealth for efficacy or our disdain for the anything contrary to our beliefs has led to a selfish space where no one else matters. The “Income Gap” is not just for the rich but all of us. I would call it the “Compassion Gap” and it has so many
implications. It goes to foster gated communities of a different sort. There are really gated minds.  We don’t interact with any one but our kind. We don’t have to take responsibility for anyone but ourselves. Survival of the fittest? Maybe. But as we create winners and losers and we become judge and jury we fail to realize that someday we too could be on the wrong end of the gavel.

I dug back in the archives to something I wrote a few years back. It was during our mini Crash. Some of it might be dated. Among the shootings, the firings of decent people and the unending acrimony, it just seemed apropos. Hope you enjoy.

As always
Ted The Great

You’ll Never Know…..

You’ll never know how much I hurt. My muscles, my bones ravaged by an unspeakable pain. It screams when I turn. It sends mind numbing shots even when I breathe. The cancer eats at every part of me with unrelenting vigor. How much longer? How much further? You’ll never know.

You’ll never know the loss of a child. The emptiness. The hopelessness. Dreams unfulfilled. People never met. Such a sweet young thing. So precious. So vulnerable. That bastard that started her down the road to ruin. Hell would be too good for him.

You’ll never know the abuse I endure. I answer your phone. I get your coffee. I smile for clients because I need this job so badly. Only to go home and face the gauntlet. The onslaught of brute strength that I used to crave. The vitriol of his drunken stupor has replaced words of love. You’ll never know.

You’ll never know the ache in my heart as I drive down the street of dreams. That love nest that we worked so hard for. Room to grow. The papering. The painting. The place of joy. Now it is all gone as we look forward to nothing but despair and unknown. You’ll never know.

You’ll never know this stranglehold of depression. The world is so bright on the outside and bleak on the inside. I crave sleep to let this horror go. I just want so bad to be so normal. I want to stop crying. I want to be me again. You’ll never know.

You’ll never know the vise of dependency. The booze. The drugs. The wandering of the streets looking for sex. The refrigerator and pantry that beckon like a siren. You call me weak. You tell me to shape up. You want to step on me when I need so much for you to just hold me. You’ll never know.

You’ll never know how cold it gets. The tricks of the trade. What keeps you warmer. Metal or cardboard. I can sleep with one eye open so I don’t get my last worldly possession ripped off. Alcohol can be found in everything from cough syrup to anti freeze. Tomorrow? Maybe. But if it never comes, no one will ever know.

You are so flip. So glib. You have all the answers or so you think. You don’t know how to even ask the right questions. You have grown cold. Aloof. It’s all about you. You are right I need to get a life. My own. But maybe you need one too. You’ll never know .

You couldn’t know because you never look beyond your own world. It’s not about rich. It’s not about poor. No matter your lot in life. You are so brazen to think the world rises and sets on your doorstep. It’s so easy being you. So horrible to be me. You’ll never know.

Life is a spread sheet to you. An algorithm. Solve for X. Prove for Y. There are assets and liabilities. Return on investment and equity. There are no poets or musicians or teachers in your life. Just bottom lines and basis not basses and soulful lines. You think you have so much. You really have so little.

It’s a tough world you say and yes it is. You are quick to convict the murderer unless it’s your own son or daughter doing the crime. You curse the thief but are free to practice white collar crime. You want everyone to get a life but you have none. Pick yourself up by your bootstraps you say, although you know they are worn and frayed. No pity. No compassion. No soul. Just leave it and go to bed. The cleaning lady will be in here in the morning to clean up this mess.

But if I ever find an end, it will taste so good. I will drink from just the simplest of things. A warm bed. A tender touch. A meal so simple yet so exquisite. Maybe it is when God welcomes me home. The pain over. The joy eternal. I tell you of this though I think you will not hear it. You won’t realize that I will pray for you. You are too busy and I understand. You are so smart but then again you’ll never know.

As always
Ted The Great

Factoids:
Estimates are that 3-3.5 million people are homeless every night in our country. There could be up to 1.5 million of those who are children. Home might be a car or a tent but they are homeless.

There are currently 1.5 million homes in foreclosure as of this moment with millions already having been adjudicated. Many overstretched but so many lost their dream due to illness, loss of jobs or broken families.

Addiction definition: noun
The state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma. Think hard. You may be addicted to something.

If you have gotten this far you do know. A little empathy could go a long way in this man’s world. I can’t hope to feel your pain but I am going to work on it. Hope you can too.
I have pushed a different envelope with this one. Let me know.