Friday, November 18, 2011

The Gas Man Cometh



One of the things that happens when you haven't showered in three days is you write a blog about it.

Look, it sure beats doing three days' worth of dishes without hot water ....

Today is the much anticipated Switchover Day, when our newly installed gas burner will be connected to our newly connected gas line. I am grateful to be moving out of the Transition Age, when we were without heat or hot water for two whole days.

BTW, I'm adding Central Heating to my List of Things I Am Thankful For this year ....

... Rocket Scientist is so excited he could hardly sleep last night. I don't get it. Sure, I'm also looking forward to winters when I don't have to dig a trench through the snow for the oil truck. (In fact, that's about the only thing I'm looking forward to regarding winter.) But I can think of several activities more entertaining than poring over the manual to a gas burner or counting the number of solenoids on the new unit (even though he gets to use his favorite flashlight). An exploded parts diagram would put me to sleep, not keep me up ....

Maybe his reaction shouldn't be such a surprise seeing as how he's worked with furnaces in much of his career ....

Nah, I still don't get it. The heat comes out of some vent thingies connected to some pipe thingies connected to a big metal box which contains many mysterious thingies which are connected to some pipe thingies connected to a fuel source, am I right? The idea is to have as clean and cheap a fuel as you can, right?

Don't bother me with some unimportant details like The Science, The Mechanics, or The Process, please! Just gimme hot water. 

To all you Rocket Scientists out there, go ahead and extract all the fun you can out of infrastructure changes. Take photos and post them on your Facebook page. Start your own chat room. Launch a Help line. Film a reality show. I dedicate this post to every one of you who cares about these thingies so I don't have to.

However, when it comes to installing a Burner-Cam -- I'm putting my filthy, frozen foot down ....










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Wednesday, November 16, 2011

You Can Take the Chick Out of the State for Thanksgiving ...



Every Thanksgiving for the past decade has played out pretty much the same in our household as we travel out of state to celebrate with family. (NOTE TO BURGLARS: We have house-sitters!)

No doubt you have holiday scripts that make ours look normal by comparison. If so -- and if you are traveling -- you can use our timeline this year to help stay on schedule (even though it's copyrighted).

So here's our timeline:

7:45 a.m.: Wake up and check to see whether the apple pie baked the previous night is still intact.

7:50 - 8:20 a.m.: Shower, pack, see to cat.

8:21 a.m.: Smell of bacon mingling with residual apple pie aroma to stir sleepyhead sons.

8:45 a.m.: Sound effects added to olfactory prompts to awaken slumbering sons: 'Tuuuurkey and graaaavy! Yuuuuuum! Puuuuuumpkin and Appppppple Piiiiiie! Yuuuuuuum ..... !'

8:46 - 8:55 a.m.: Pack car (except pie), tend plants.

8:56 a.m.: Check to see if apple pie is still intact.

9:00 a.m.: First meltdown warning given.

9:01 - 9:09 a.m.: Breakfast

9:10 a.m.: Second meltdown warning given.

9:11 - 9:20 a.m.: Tidy up the house.

9:20 - 9:50 a.m.: Take a nap, thereby avoiding the drama associated with three people trying to shower simultaneously but separately.

9:51 a.m.: Check and pack the apple pie.

10:00 a.m.: Meltdown

10:01 - 11:01 a.m.: Everyone gets in and out of the car.

11:02 - 11:09 a.m.: False starts to retrieve map/GPS/phone charger/EZ Pass/pillow.

11:10 - 11:59 a.m.: Sitting in traffic going west on the Mass. pike.

12:00 - 12:59 p.m.: Sitting in traffic in Connecticut.

1:00 - 1:59 p.m.: Sitting in traffic in New York.

2:00 - 2:59 p.m.: Sitting in traffic in New Jersey.

3:00 - 3:59 p.m.: Sitting in traffic in Pennsylvania.

4:00 p.m.: Arrive at destination.

4:01 p.m.: Dessert menu item changed from apple pie to apple crumble.

4:02 p.m.: Family, food, wine, music, kids, puppies, surprises, laughter, thanks, hugs, sharing .......




You can take the chick out of the state for Thanksgiving, but you can't take the state of Thanksgiving out of the chick ....


Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Gobble gobble! Count off your blessings! Gobble gobble gobble!










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Thursday, November 10, 2011

If You Walk In On A Rape In Progress ...

Today I reluctantly exchange my Comedy mask for a Tragedy one.

As a Penn State alumna, I am heartsick over the events unfolding this past week.

To recap, former longtime Penn State defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky was indicted Nov. 5 on 40 charges of child molestation that spanned over a decade. Two university officials were also charged with failure to report abuse which took place on campus. The university's coach, Joe Paterno, who reported one of the incidents based on a grad assistant's eyewitness account, faces criticism for not doing more to safeguard the victim. 

In America, of course, you are innocent until proven guilty. However, the propensity of evidence leads to assumptions of guilt.

That's why I feel ashamed that the heads of my alma mater and its football team which I love and follow could appear to be so criminally or ethically negligent.

... Back in junior high, I had a rep in some circles as 'the girl who knows football' (actually, there were two of us). Lord'a'mercy, I was hooked the first time I saw O.J. Simpson rush for a USC first down. (Ironic, huh?) ... I have had the pleasure of watching male jaws drop as I supply a name or statistic from last year's mid-season pro game. Noooosssir, you didn't try to impress some chick with your football acumen when I was around ....

I went to many PSU home games, singing, 'We don't know the goddamn words' with the rest of the student section as the band played 'The Penn State Alma Mater.'  In fact, Sandusky was my hero. After watching season after season of countless yardage-losing off-tackle plays, throwing only on 3rd-and-long, and gutless field goal attempts on 4th-and-inches -- there was a time when I hoped Paterno would step down so Sandusky could take over.

So when a beloved sport, school, coaches and college town are splattered with mud, I feel as though some has splashed on me as well. We are Penn State?? Linebacker U. or Linebugger U.? The Lion was Lyin'?  Personal Foul? Encroachment? Off sides?

It's troubling that no one at the university seemed to think things through. Questions abound: Did they believe the Sandusky problem was simply going to disappear? Did it never occur to them that any cover-up was going to have far worse ramifications than the original sex scandal? Did they accept the inevitable subsequent victims as collateral damage for maintaining the status quo? Did they realize the price they and others would pay for silence? Were they aware that following the old adage that the first priority of any institution is self-perpetuation was what mired the Catholic Church in a sex scandal? Did they ever read anything other than the sports pages?

Why did the investigation of Sandusky drag on for three years? How many victims do you need before making an arrest? What really happened to DA Ray Gricar in 2005? Why does there appear to be no effective crisis management team at Old Main?


If you were a grad student and walked into a rape in progress involving your iconic former coach, what would you have done? Are we all so very certain the child's welfare would be uppermost in our reeling mind?

Since I'm not a young grad assistant in a big college football program, I can't say what I would have done. However, as a parent, if I had walked into a parallel situation -- say, involving a teacher at a school -- I flatter myself thinking I could predict my actions: If I hadn't been seen, I would have hightailed it to the safest place I could find, like a distant Ladies Room or my car. Then I would have repeated Ohmigod what should I do? over and over to myself. Then it would dawn on me that somehow I would have to make sure the kid was all right. Although it would be the last thing I would want to do, I would feel compelled, because I'm a mom, to force myself to go back to check on that child. I might fear for my own life and search for some weapon first. I might totally chicken out and call the police, drive away, and then watch from a distance for police cars. Or ... I might not .....

I can't predict what I would be able to articulate to a 911 dispatcher with my heart pounding and emotions flooding my brain. Ideally (if I had the presence of mind), I'd report a rape in progress and give the location before hanging up. What I would not want to do is specify a VIP was involved. Then I would call my husband and maybe my lawyer. ... Or, would I call my husband first, before calling the police? Ohmigod ohmigod, what should I do? what should I do?

So I am in no position to judge other people. Yet, if in such a circumstance I turn to the most powerful people in town and nothing seems to change -- then either those people have too much power or their priorities are skewed.

Paterno and his wife have given their hearts, their lives, to the university. Paterno has grown PSU and its football program into well-regarded institutions. Too much has changed for either one to shrink to pre-Paterno size. I predict Sandusky's suicide, but PSU football will survive. It has too many fans like me ....

Ethics issues have a way of appearing unexpectedly in some peripheral area of our lives. We could all doubtless benefit from more preparation for dealing with that.

Jettison Joe? His legacy will remain largely intact -- as it should. Compensate the victims as best as possible. Fire people. Start fresh, with some outsiders. Also, let us all learn from false idolatry a little about ourselves and our beloved institutions and hopefully calibrate our own moral compasses. I can't think of much else that can be salvaged from this mess.

Meanwhile, it's time for me to finally learn the words to the old alma mater -- especially the final verse:

... 'May no act of ours bring shame,
    To one heart that loves thy name;
    May our lives help swell thy fame,
    Dear old State, dear old State.'



 *************

Sources for this post include The New York Times (nytimes.com), AP and Reuters wire reports, the Patriot-News (pennlive.com), and The Daily Collegian (collegian.psu.edu).

'Alma Mater' by F.L. Pattee and C.C Converse (c)1919 Paxwin Corporation









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