Crossing My Fingers

If the forecasters are correct, Ivan should pass to our east, which is the best-case scenario short of not getting hit at all. Our forecast calls for winds about 40 mph tonight at 8 PM going up near 60 mph by6 AM. It should be past us by 11 AM and the weather will rapidly improve.



On Tuesday, it was one of those emergency days. New Orleans was evacuating, and the interstates were in gridlock. At the hospital, we were discharging everyone we could so folks could get home and batten down the hatches. I expect we will lose power sometime this evening, but it usually comes back on within 12 to 24 hours. This is a very small inconvenience compared to the folks in the Mobile, AL area. They may take the direct hit and a category 4 hurricane is a destroyer.



I want to thank everyone for their thoughts and prayers. I will keep you posted.



Until the next time

John Strain

Hurricane

It is only a matter of time now. I will be lashing myself to a palm tree in hopes of surviving hurricane Ivan. Schools have been closed from New Orleans to Florida. Home Depot and Lowes are sold out of plywood and batteries. Gas stations are low on fuel and grocery stores are selling out of bottled water and canned goods.



Presently, the forecasters are having a tough time. The drama won't unfold until the hurricane nears landfall. By the time they know where it will go, there will not be time to do anything by way of preparation. Therefore, folks all along the Gulf Coast have to act as though Ivan were going to hit them.



The worst-case scenario is for the hurricane to pass just to the west. Those lucky devils get the wind blowing from the water. The storm surge is greatest there. Hurricane watches have been posted for us, so within 36 hours hurricane conditions could occur.



I'll keep you posted. As far as my running is concerned, a hurricane can provide a hell of a tail wind. I may break a 3-minute mile if I work it just right.



Now where are my rope and that palm tree?



Until the next time

John Strain

Mr Ates

Time is the subtle thief of youth -John Milton

Mr. and Mrs. Ates live in the house behind ours. They are in their 70's and have always kept their yard looking good. Saturday when I was doing yard work, Mrs. Ates was in her yard and we began talking. We talked about our yards and about the pending onslaught of falling leaves. Mr. Ates had a stroke some time back and has not been working in the yard for a long time. He was a handyman of sorts. He built a green house in their backyard and many projects remain that had his hand in them. He loved taking care of his yard, but now he is relegated to the confines of his house due to his weakened physical condition.



I always saw Mr. Ates at church. He often handed out bulletins as churchgoers entered the sanctuary. The offering usually was conducted along with his participation. Mr. Ates always smiled and held out his hand to shake.



As Mrs. Ates and I stood talking, Mr. Ates came walking our way. I guess he could not stand not being outside. He was wearing white socks and no shoes. He walked tentatively and he was a bit slumped. I spoke to him, but he did not hear me. When he looked at me, I spoke slowly and loudly. Mr. Ates returned my greeting. Mrs. Ates wanted to get him back inside so she was trying to get him redirected. Then Mr. Ates said, "I wish. . ." His voice tailed off into something illegible. We inquired what he said and he tried again. "I wish. . .I could." It was obvious; he was talking about wanting to work in the yard. He had a tear in his eye and the look of someone longing for something out of reach. He seemed so sad. I reached out to shake hands with Mr. Ates, but his right arm hung at his side. With his left hand he held out his right hand and I took his shaking hand and shook it. He turned and made his way back to his house.



There are moments when events awake a deeper understanding and this was one such circumstance. In Mr. Ates I saw a life winding down. I saw myself and I saw others who have already gone on. His decline is a pale comparison to what he once was. This is what happens to us all if we live long enough.



Therefore, we must keep our eye on that subtle thief time. Relish and savor each moment, because our time is limited. Celebrate your life and the lives around you. Extend a hand to comfort.



Here's to awareness and gratitude. May we be mindful of our ever dwindling cache of time, but may we be grateful for every second.



Until the next time

John Strain

Love, Honor, and Freedom Will Always Conquer Hate

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world. -John 16:33



Until the next time

John Strain

Am I Speaking English Or What?

Thursday night after pumping some iron at the gym, Barbara and I stopped by Subway for our supper. We had to wait a really long time. Even though there were three employees in the store, only one of them was making food, and she was new. Barbara and I are patient folks, so we took the wait in stride. When it was my turn to order, I asked for a club salad. I was asked a follow up question, "what would you like on it?" My answer was, "a little of everything." The new girl proceeded to verify each item, "Do you want tomatoes?" "Bell peppers?" "Jalapenos?" "How about cucumbers?" My responses, "yes, yes, yes, and yes." I just can't say what I would like to say, "Honey, what is it about everything you don't understand?"



A long time ago at a McDonalds, I walked in and ordered a shake. My exact words were, "I would like a large chocolate shake to go." The girl behind the counter said, "what flavor of shake would you like sir?" I said, "chocolate." She continued, "What size shake would you like?" I responded, "large." Then she asked one more question, "do you want that for here or to go?" My retort, "to go." I guess you cannot answer someone's question before they ask it.



I worked in a restaurant when I was a teenager and the standards were much higher. The manager was up my ass all the time. Customer service was paramount. Today, the manager is the one screwing up along with the line workers.



I would go into drive thru horror stories, but I would run the risk of triggering my PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder).



It is really minor stuff, even amusing. I would like to see businesses raise the bar a little and expect more from their employees. I would like to see more people taking pride in doing their job well, whatever that job is.



It could happen. Really.



Until the next time

John Strain