I went out for my morning constitutional about 5 o’clock. The air is finally full of that early morning springtime crisp, cool air that allows sounds to travel well. The birds are singing to greet the day. It is, as Neil diamond says, a beautiful noise.
I wonder though, “What I am missing?” Since my visit to the audiologist last week I have been more aware of what I have missed from the high frequency sounds of life. Tomorrow morning will be different as I will have my new ears in then. Will there be more beautiful noises from the birds? Or will there be all sorts of background sounds that I haven’t heard from some time? It is all unknown.
Sleep last night consisted of a lot of tossing and turning. Worry about the visit to the audiologist this morning kept me from useful slumber. I am sitting here now, yawning up a storm I cannot hear. Maybe tomorrow I will be more alert, not yawning and hearing more. I have been told that I will sleep tonight. I will be exhausted from the work of listening to all those noises and sounds I have forgotten that existed.
In a few more hours I will have my new ears. The sounds I am looking to hearing the most are the ones from my wife. I will be able to have a conversation with her that doesn’t begin with my asking, “What?!”
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
'EARS TO YOU!
“You have ears to hear but you hear not!,” Father Ignatius would tell us in English class when we asked what the assignment for tomorrow was just moments after he had told us what the assignment for tomorrow was.
My wife thinks like Father Ignatius. She believes I can’t hear; that I am losing my hearing. My children will tell you that I just don’t listen.
It doesn’t matter. I get my new ears next Tuesday. A new one for each side of my head.
I spent two hours at the audiologist this morning. I was there to keep my wife happy and to prove to her that my hearing is fine and that she needs to speak up. She is right, I am wrong.
The testing proves that I can hear lower frequencies. It is the higher frequencies that I do not hear. Female voices. No wonder my wife thinks I can’t hear her. I can’t.
When the audiologist said he had a variety of hearing aids for me to choose from I immediately thought of the huge, flesh colored molds that fit in your ear and have size ‘D’ batteries attached to the back of your ears. A passing thought, fortunately. Analog is dead! I am getting the top of the line digital hearing aids. The particular model I am getting will best suit what I am doing work wise as well as listening to my wife wise. And it comes with a remote. I can casually slip my hand into my pocket and turn the hearing aids, and the speaker, off.
The audiologist is giving me (supplying, at a nominal cost) hearing aids that go into the ear tube but do not block it. My ability to hear the lower frequencies is fine and he doesn't want to interfere with that. And, with all these new techno things, he can adjust for all sorts of gain and frequency and hertz. The only real hurts that he can't fix will be how my pocketbook hurts.
My wife says she is excited for me. She says I won’t be so cranky because I can’t hear her. I figure she won’t be so cranky that I’m cranky because I can’t hear her.
I asked my wife if she would still love me with my hearing aids. She said she would love me even more. Gee, if I had known that…
My wife thinks like Father Ignatius. She believes I can’t hear; that I am losing my hearing. My children will tell you that I just don’t listen.
It doesn’t matter. I get my new ears next Tuesday. A new one for each side of my head.
I spent two hours at the audiologist this morning. I was there to keep my wife happy and to prove to her that my hearing is fine and that she needs to speak up. She is right, I am wrong.
The testing proves that I can hear lower frequencies. It is the higher frequencies that I do not hear. Female voices. No wonder my wife thinks I can’t hear her. I can’t.
When the audiologist said he had a variety of hearing aids for me to choose from I immediately thought of the huge, flesh colored molds that fit in your ear and have size ‘D’ batteries attached to the back of your ears. A passing thought, fortunately. Analog is dead! I am getting the top of the line digital hearing aids. The particular model I am getting will best suit what I am doing work wise as well as listening to my wife wise. And it comes with a remote. I can casually slip my hand into my pocket and turn the hearing aids, and the speaker, off.
The audiologist is giving me (supplying, at a nominal cost) hearing aids that go into the ear tube but do not block it. My ability to hear the lower frequencies is fine and he doesn't want to interfere with that. And, with all these new techno things, he can adjust for all sorts of gain and frequency and hertz. The only real hurts that he can't fix will be how my pocketbook hurts.
My wife says she is excited for me. She says I won’t be so cranky because I can’t hear her. I figure she won’t be so cranky that I’m cranky because I can’t hear her.
I asked my wife if she would still love me with my hearing aids. She said she would love me even more. Gee, if I had known that…
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
BREAKFAST OUT
This morning, just to have some fun by myself, for myself, I went out for breakfast that I didn’t have to fix at a local old-fashioned restaurant, one with a counter. I decided to sit at the counter, just to be old-fashioned. There are six stools and I chose on from the end of the counter. That put stools between me and the patron at the other end of the counter.
My wife doesn’t know I went out to breakfast without her.
After I had ordered, an older gentleman in his eighties sat down on the stool next to me. So much for creating my own little space.
He was all by himself. I began to wonder. Was he out for breakfast without his wife? Was his wife was still alive. I soon found out.
The man’s cell phone rang. I heard his side of the conversation.
“Hello?”
“No, she isn’t in right now.”
“Can I take a message?”
“Then I will have her call you.”
Ain’t technology grand? I found out that his wife is alive and she definitely wasn’t in right now. The gentleman was telling the truth.
My wife doesn’t know I went out to breakfast without her.
After I had ordered, an older gentleman in his eighties sat down on the stool next to me. So much for creating my own little space.
He was all by himself. I began to wonder. Was he out for breakfast without his wife? Was his wife was still alive. I soon found out.
The man’s cell phone rang. I heard his side of the conversation.
“Hello?”
“No, she isn’t in right now.”
“Can I take a message?”
“Then I will have her call you.”
Ain’t technology grand? I found out that his wife is alive and she definitely wasn’t in right now. The gentleman was telling the truth.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
INSTRUCTION MANUALS
My son and I were walking home from a trip to the coffee shop yesterday. We were talking about nothing in particular when he asks, “Did God give you instructions for me when you got me?”
I thought a moment before I answered. “No. We didn’t get instructions for your sister either.” After a few moments of silence, I added, “Love ‘em, feed ‘em, change their diapers until they don’t need their diapers changed anymore.” Beyond that, it is one adventure after another.
Children don’t come with instruction manuals or trouble shooting guides. They should. That way when your child says, “You ruined my whole life!” you can refer them to the manual God gave you. It will be his fault.
I thought a moment before I answered. “No. We didn’t get instructions for your sister either.” After a few moments of silence, I added, “Love ‘em, feed ‘em, change their diapers until they don’t need their diapers changed anymore.” Beyond that, it is one adventure after another.
Children don’t come with instruction manuals or trouble shooting guides. They should. That way when your child says, “You ruined my whole life!” you can refer them to the manual God gave you. It will be his fault.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
WE GOT A TORNADO
in Aumsville, 12 miles southeast of Salem.
No one died. Yea!
The local plumbing store is no more. It was in the center of town and the center of the story.
And the damned news people from Portland are beside themselves with reporting on this exciting event.
I was trying to watch a Perry Mason episode while enjoying my lunch and "Breaking News" interrupted the show. For the rest of the day, tornado reporting was the show of choice on all the local channels.
The reporters were handling the crisis just fine, until they started talking. One guy said that tornadoes in Oregon were very rare. What wasn't rare was that he told us that at least five times in a three minute segment.
My son and I sat here making fun of the reports and the people giving them. It was the only way we could tolerate the traditional weather crisis reporting of the local media. They tell you the obvious and then tell you again. Just in case, you missed the first five times they told you.
One point that came up over and over again was that no one had died. Rather than a "Thank God" for that fact, the anchors on the various stations sounded disappointed. One even went so far as to talk about how many deaths in similar situations were caused, not by the winds themselves, but flying debris. There just wasn’t enough tragedy to report. And yet, it is wonderful that no one died!
Later in the day, the stations were all doing their evening news from Aumsville. Lots of reporters in town and now the anchor desk folks had arrived. The local ABC channel had their anchors doing their shtick across the street from the remains of the plumbing store. In the background, a local teenage girl made sure she got on TV. Walking behind the anchors and acting as if she was headed someplace important, she suddenly stopped, turned toward the camera with a big smile on her face and waved. Then reverted to her important walk. At that point the anchors were turning the story over to one of their reporters. From what we saw, it looked as if the reporter was in another part of town. But, no! Who should appear in the background? The teenage girl, on a walk to someplace important. She stopped, turned and waved. Yep, the reporter was probably ten feet away from the anchors. Clear across town. Aumsville is small, but it ain't that small.
And now, the day after, on the early morning news we have more from Aumsville. Fortunately the stories are a bit more thought out and the rambling reports are gone. Except for the commercials for the stations telling how well they handled this crisis and got the news to us right away. What do they use for highlights? Clips of reporters telling us the obvious once again.
I don’t know how the Perry Mason episode turned out. That is no big deal. I regularly fall asleep during the last fifteen minutes of the show and still don’t know who done it. I know it wasn’t Perry’s client. The client was not guilty of murder or murdering the news.
No one died. Yea!
The local plumbing store is no more. It was in the center of town and the center of the story.
And the damned news people from Portland are beside themselves with reporting on this exciting event.
I was trying to watch a Perry Mason episode while enjoying my lunch and "Breaking News" interrupted the show. For the rest of the day, tornado reporting was the show of choice on all the local channels.
The reporters were handling the crisis just fine, until they started talking. One guy said that tornadoes in Oregon were very rare. What wasn't rare was that he told us that at least five times in a three minute segment.
My son and I sat here making fun of the reports and the people giving them. It was the only way we could tolerate the traditional weather crisis reporting of the local media. They tell you the obvious and then tell you again. Just in case, you missed the first five times they told you.
One point that came up over and over again was that no one had died. Rather than a "Thank God" for that fact, the anchors on the various stations sounded disappointed. One even went so far as to talk about how many deaths in similar situations were caused, not by the winds themselves, but flying debris. There just wasn’t enough tragedy to report. And yet, it is wonderful that no one died!
Later in the day, the stations were all doing their evening news from Aumsville. Lots of reporters in town and now the anchor desk folks had arrived. The local ABC channel had their anchors doing their shtick across the street from the remains of the plumbing store. In the background, a local teenage girl made sure she got on TV. Walking behind the anchors and acting as if she was headed someplace important, she suddenly stopped, turned toward the camera with a big smile on her face and waved. Then reverted to her important walk. At that point the anchors were turning the story over to one of their reporters. From what we saw, it looked as if the reporter was in another part of town. But, no! Who should appear in the background? The teenage girl, on a walk to someplace important. She stopped, turned and waved. Yep, the reporter was probably ten feet away from the anchors. Clear across town. Aumsville is small, but it ain't that small.
And now, the day after, on the early morning news we have more from Aumsville. Fortunately the stories are a bit more thought out and the rambling reports are gone. Except for the commercials for the stations telling how well they handled this crisis and got the news to us right away. What do they use for highlights? Clips of reporters telling us the obvious once again.
I don’t know how the Perry Mason episode turned out. That is no big deal. I regularly fall asleep during the last fifteen minutes of the show and still don’t know who done it. I know it wasn’t Perry’s client. The client was not guilty of murder or murdering the news.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
HERD OF CATTLE?
“Yeah, I’ve heard of cattle.”
Or so the punch line of the joke goes. As I remember it.
What about a herd of worms? I heard of that too. In fact, we have taken up worm herding at our house. We bought a compost bin that works on worm power.
You put the food scraps in and the worms turn them into compost.
We are worm wranchers!
Much like real ranchers, we have to herd the worms. Initially, the two sides of the cedar box are empty. One side is filled with food scraps, shredded paper, compost and redworms. The other side is empty until the worms complete their work on the first side. With new materials on the empty side, the worms can migrate. Until that time, you have to herd the worms back to the starter side.
We lost a few head of worms during the first three days. The other strays I was able to move back to the working side. I thought about branding the little critters but they won’t get too far and the chance of rustlers coming through town is very slim. Besides, how do you know which end of the worm to brand?
Or so the punch line of the joke goes. As I remember it.
What about a herd of worms? I heard of that too. In fact, we have taken up worm herding at our house. We bought a compost bin that works on worm power.
You put the food scraps in and the worms turn them into compost.
We are worm wranchers!
Much like real ranchers, we have to herd the worms. Initially, the two sides of the cedar box are empty. One side is filled with food scraps, shredded paper, compost and redworms. The other side is empty until the worms complete their work on the first side. With new materials on the empty side, the worms can migrate. Until that time, you have to herd the worms back to the starter side.
We lost a few head of worms during the first three days. The other strays I was able to move back to the working side. I thought about branding the little critters but they won’t get too far and the chance of rustlers coming through town is very slim. Besides, how do you know which end of the worm to brand?
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
BOGO and the grocery store
BOGO! or B1G1!
A marvelous marketing gimmick found mostly in grocery store aisles. Buy One! Get One! Buy one item and get an identical item for free. Two cans of chicken noodle soup for the price of one. Or, my favorite, buy one pork loin and get the second one free. Of course, the second one of the meat products is always the smaller size.
It is a good deal for the consumer, unless you do as I do and decide that by saving the money on the two items you now have money to spend on something else. The BOGO is a good deal for the retailer because they move product out the door and your money in the door.
There is a local area car dealer who has, in the past, run a BOGO on new cars. The ultimate loss leader deal. You get two very basic automobiles for the price of one. Not bad if you need two cars exactly alike.
My candidate for the world's best BOGO award is a merchant in Marysville, Washington. The merchant was in tune with the big Memorial Day weekend sales pitch. As we drove through town on 88th Street, we saw the perfect sign in the perfect location. With Old Glory waving in the gentle Sunday morning breeze, the sign stood out among the lush greenery on the property.
A marvelous marketing gimmick found mostly in grocery store aisles. Buy One! Get One! Buy one item and get an identical item for free. Two cans of chicken noodle soup for the price of one. Or, my favorite, buy one pork loin and get the second one free. Of course, the second one of the meat products is always the smaller size.
It is a good deal for the consumer, unless you do as I do and decide that by saving the money on the two items you now have money to spend on something else. The BOGO is a good deal for the retailer because they move product out the door and your money in the door.
There is a local area car dealer who has, in the past, run a BOGO on new cars. The ultimate loss leader deal. You get two very basic automobiles for the price of one. Not bad if you need two cars exactly alike.
My candidate for the world's best BOGO award is a merchant in Marysville, Washington. The merchant was in tune with the big Memorial Day weekend sales pitch. As we drove through town on 88th Street, we saw the perfect sign in the perfect location. With Old Glory waving in the gentle Sunday morning breeze, the sign stood out among the lush greenery on the property.
Memorial Day Sale!
This weekend only!
Two plots for the price of one!
Welcome to Marysville Cemetery.
This weekend only!
Two plots for the price of one!
Welcome to Marysville Cemetery.
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