Having a Ball on a Monday

You may remember me writing about my friend Marty, who was running for a Parish Council seat. He got into a runoff, then won the runoff. On Monday, Louisiana inaugurated people to their new offices, including our first female governor. The St. Tammany Parish seat is Covington. We have a brand new justice center and it was the site for swearing in the new politicians. I attended the ceremony, which took place at noon. That evening, a ball was held in honor of the reelected Parish President along with the new and returning councilmen. Here are a few photos of the days events.

Look at the guy on the front row with the video camera. Guess who?

Marty just before he was sworn in as a parish councilman

No sooner than he was sworn in did Marty begin helping his district one constituents

The ballroom was decorated beautifully

I wish I still had that other tux

Barbara, John, Marty, Mayor of Covington, and her husband

The band is leading the crowd in a second line which is a sort of dance while waving a towel, napkin, or handkerchief

John and Marty all cleaned up

I told Marty, "Now that you have been sworn in, you will soon be sworn at." Good luck to him and the new politicians all over the state.

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20%

There's a 20% chance that I'll win a Bloggie
What's Your Chance to Win a Bloggie

Until the next time

John Strain

The REAL Job Description

I am a social worker in a psychiatric hospital. When I began training to be a counselor I had an image of sitting in an office in leather wing back chairs surrounded by bookshelves holding a top notch psychology library. A receptionist would usher patients in and out to sit with me. I would solve their problems and they would love me for it. Hahahahaha, hehehehehe, hohohohoho. It did not turn out like that.



Some of my friends are nurses who trained to become a nurse to help people. In their mind they saw themselves wiping the brow of a sick person. Helping scared children facing operations laugh and feel better. They had a basic, giving comfort and relief where it was much needed idea of nursing.



Some of my friends are teachers who envisioned themselves standing in front of a class talking to children with hungry eyes and ears, taking in every intellectually nourishing word. They would make a big impression on the little life and never be forgotten.



The drive to become a counselor, nurse, teacher, or "name the profession here" was probably rooted in a similar understanding of what that profession did. Firemen put out fires, police lock up bad people, lawyers . . . well . . . bakers bake bread, and so on. Somewhere along the line our balloon of naïve understanding deflates and we are left holding the shriveled up piece of rubber in our hand and a bewildered look on our face. At this point, some may quit their job, thinking nurses at hospital X get to be nurses, so you work there. Teachers at school X get to be teachers, so you try to teach there. You still believe, but the balloon deflates again. You could change careers, but now you realize it is all BS so you just stay bewildered, bitter, or you find a way to make it work for you.



I blame lawyers and greedy, lazy people who feel they deserve a million dollars anytime they are inconvenienced for this condition.



Much of what I write, and many of the forms I fill out are more about covering my ass than they are about documenting what is going on with a patient. Do I hear an Amen? Nurses, teachers, social workers, doctors, policemen, and all of us have to cover our ass, because we are preyed upon by low life, scum bag, attorneys who would not know justice if she took off her blind fold and their willing accomplices – people looking for a quick check.



I watched a 60 Minutes episode about malpractice insurance. One MD in the East, who was an expert with high risk pregnancies, was paying one million dollars a year for his malpractice insurance. He quit taking those cases because he could not afford to practice.



Now, if someone is harmed due to negligence, that is a different story. Let’s say some guy runs over me and puts me in a wheel chair. I should receive medical care, wages I would earn up to retirement, and a few bucks for my trouble. If I buy a cup of hot coffee, place it between my legs and get burned when the car hits a bump I should get laughed at.



We could discuss unfounded court cases and outrageous judgments all day. My personal favorite is fat people blaming McDonalds for their excess pounds, and let's not forget the folks who are dying of lung cancer blaming tobacco companies for shoving cigarettes in their mouths. Whatever happened to personal responsibility and the natural consequences of your behavior?



We had an incident occur at a Wal Mart in a nearby town where a strange smell filled the store. For reasons of caution, the store was evacuated until the source of the smell could be determined. Before the source of the smell had been located, people were showing up at emergency rooms complaining of headaches, dizziness, and an assortment of symptoms as a result of the Wal Mart odor. The fire department concluded there was no danger. The topper was when a person walked into the Wal Mart in Covington (35 miles away from the store in question) and collapsed. When he was revived (BS), he said he must have inhaled something. The store manager said something like, “you moron, that was at the Bogalusa store.”



It would not be so bad if it did not affect us so much. Prices are higher for goods to pay for these BS lawsuits. Insurance premiums are higher due to fraud and BS lawsuits. My job requires a lot more writing and form filling out because of BS lawsuits.



So, the way I see it, we were not being naïve to think firemen put out fires, counselors talk to people, teachers teach, and nurses provide comfort and care to sick people. We were right, but because we have to protect ourselves from the lawyers we have lots of paperwork.



Maybe Shakespeare was right.



Until the next time

John Strain

ER

We got to take an excursion to the local emergency room Sunday evening. My son John rolled his ankle while playing football. The swelling was pretty bad and it was so tight I wanted a doctor to check it out. He has rolled his ankle severely twice before. We were lucky. It was not too busy in the ER and we were in and out in about two hours.



There were no breaks, but the doctor immobilized the ankle with a splint. Fortunately, John is not playing organized basketball or he would really be bummed. As it is, he has to keep off of it for a few days and may miss some work. I was impressed with the hospital staff. They were polite and efficient.



As for John, he has to lay around on the couch, play video games, and watch DVD's. Poor kid.



On a more pleasant topic, one of my azalea bushes is blooming. It thinks it is spring or something. The usual time for azaleas to bloom is normally March. The south is so pretty in the spring. I cannot wait to see the beautiful colors and smell the magnolias and sweet olive. I am getting a bit ahead of myself.



So that is my Sunday. I went to work for a few hours. Watched my Chiefs lose :( and took my son to the emergency room. One never knows what will happen on any given Sunday. I hope you are having a happy Monday.



Until the next time

John Strain

Old School

The name of this painting is Looking Out to Sea, by Norman Rockwell I have it hanging in my house. The man, I imagine, is the little boy's grandfather. He is an "old salt" judging by his clothing. Using the same criteria, I would say the little boy is enamored with his grandpa. He is attentive and has his hands clasped behind his back as he listens to his grandfather tell a tale of the sea. Even the dog is enraptured by the story. If you concentrate you can hear the gulls and a far off bell ringing. The waves gently lap the shoreline and the smell of salt is in the air along with the words of past sea adventures. The boy is being mentored and nurtured. Captain grandpa is handing down his knowledge and experience to willing ears. He is stoking the boys furnace of imagination and possibility. Some day the boy will embark on his own sea voyage. He will feel called and not know why exactly. His grandfather's words will whisper to him and nudge him. The words will give him strength when the voyage is rough and one day he will pass them on. He will stand on a hill overlooking the sea. His hand will rest on the shoulder of a wide eyed boy and he will speak words that are both his and his grandfathers. Words that have been handed down through the ages.



I think of the poem Sea Fever by John Masefield



I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.



I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.



I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

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I was listening to former Giants quarterback Phil Sims on ESPN radio talking about the hiring of Jee Gibbs as coach for the Washington Redskins. He was singing the praises of the "old school" coaches, like Vermeil, Parcells, and now Gibbs. There was a trend several years ago to jettison the "old school" coaches. The knock on them was they were not hip and could not relate to "today's" players. Then Dick Vermeil came out of many years of retirement to coach the St. Louis Rams. In three years the Rams won the Super Bowl. The trend now is to resurrect these old guys. I guess they know something after all. Sims went on to say that to win in the NFL teams still need organization, discipline, and toughness. "That will never change," he went on to say.



We can learn a lot by listening to those who have done it before. There are so many players now who don't listen to their coach they have become a caricature. Leon in the Budweiser commercials is their poster boy. The tried and true methods are being proven. One flashy player does not beat a group of less talented players who play as a unit.



Isn't it neat? Just looking at a picture can bring these thoughts to the surface. Art, music, and poetry really "do it" for my soul.



Until the next time

John Strain

My Other Family

My closest family member lives ten hours north. The telephone and internet have done wonders for keeping us up on each other, but it is not the same as being with them. Blogging has added a dimension to communication we have never known. In many ways it is making us much closer than proximity could. We especially realize what we are missing when we get together. Our visits are enjoyable and we become aware of what we have missed and will miss in each other's lives.



Fortunately, I have another family. A family of friends and coworkers who share in my life day to day. These friends do not take the place of my family, they add to it. I know many people who only fight or have uncomfortable feelings when around their family. They deal with the same old things that were going on in their childhood. There is competition, favoritism, deceit, jealousy, and a host of other fun things at each family gathering. I am not sure I would hang around my family if it were like that.



They say you can choose your friends but you can't choose your family. This is true, but I can choose where I spend my time. My other family has taught me this. I feel just as comfortable with them as I do my real family. That is not a lowering of my family in significance, it is elevating friends to family status. I feel like a lucky S.O.B. (Use George Patton voice here.)



At the hospital I really love the people I work with. We laugh together, know the names of each other's pets, kids, spouses, parents, etc. We know when it is their birthday. We sense emotional changes in each other and offer support. Sometimes we get pissed at each other, but we make up. Sounds like a family to me.



Being a man at a hospital, I am in the minority. There are pros and cons to this arrangement. Not as many people to talk football with, a lot more crying, and more conversations about chick stuff, but there are advantages. It is almost like having several wives. We interact like that. They can never fix the copy or fax machine - enter me. If there is a birthday cake, I don't want to cut it - enter them. Bottom line, we like each other and we laugh a whole lot. How much better could heaven be than laughing all the time?



On National Nurses Day, my pal Marty and I decided we would do something nice for the nurses. We settled on the idea of getting a rose for each one. So we coughed up the money and bought about 30 roses. On each card we wrote this message: Dear _______, you are our favorite, don't tell the others. Love, John and Marty. Our legend grew - that is the BS legend. One nurse who still works there, tells me she still has that card on her refrigerator. No doubt in the most sincere card received section. As I said, we laugh a whole lot.



So if your family is too far away to see that often, do what I did, expand your definition of family. Get yourself another family in addition to the one you already have.



Until the next time

John Strain