I am that man

I am that man

I finally got over high school. I was walking down the street from the LaConner post office, and it just happened, like 44 years later. I immediately told John at the bookstore, "Hey, John, I just got over high school." And he replied, "Well, I haven't."

And you all know what I mean. High school was hell, and the resentment was almost permanent. But I'm over it now -- through no effort on my part, so I'll call it a miracle of divine intervention.

The high school was Loyola Academy in Wilmette, Illinois -- an all boys Catholic school. The student population swelled to 1,600 when I got there in 1960, thanks to the baby boom. The Jesuit order ran the school. They were zealous and demanding. They had me spotted for a wise guy and they pounced on me every day. I didn't have any friends either.

But Loyola was academically sound. The priests taught me how to write and how to think, and I am grateful for that.

I found this essay in some old papers. I wrote it when I was a senior in 1964. This was the part I truly believed. I still believe it. I am that man.

The Value of a Liberal Education

What is a liberal education? What is its goal? Why does the Catholic educational system wholeheartedly subscribe to it? These questions have and will be asked many times, by laymen in the Church and outside of it. The answer is simple. The answer has been drilled into me as long as I have been attending Loyola: the development of the whole man, the integer homo.

The whole man, the completely educated man, if he does exist, is the man who has knowledge of the whole truth. The closer a man comes to knowing the whole truth, to having real wisdom, the more complete he is in the eyes of God. The whole man, the man who has concomitantly studied religion, literature, and science, can better cope with moral matters; he has a better chance of reaching total wisdom and understanding after death: the Beatific Vision.

The concept of a liberal education differs radically from that of educators who see little value in the mental discipline of the traditional subjects, and who would make the primary end of education be social adjustment or the direct preparation for the physical life. While it is silly to say that liberally educated men are totally unprepared for such matters as making a living, holding down a well-paying job, and being an enlightened citizen in this democracy, these matters are only by-products of the integer homo.

It is the liberal education which gives a man a clear, conscious view of his own opinions and judgments, a truth in developing them, an eloquence in expressing them, and a force in urging them. It teaches him to see things as they are, to go right to the point, to disentangle a confusion of thought, to detect the sophistic argument, and to discard the irrelevant. While this type of education does not prepare him for the specifics of business or computer science, it prepares him to fulfill any job with credit and to master any subject with facility. The liberally educated man is at home in any society because he has an understanding of them all. He has common ground with any class. He knows how to converse intelligently and, more important, when to remain silent. He learns the humility of Socrates and Christ, the perseverance of Sysiphus, the cunning of Odysseus, and the loyalty of pius Aeneas.
The liberally educated man has a gift which serves him in public and the privacy of his own conscience. It will support him when he is young, middle-aged and senile. It will serve him most of all in the next life.

Rednecks

My definition of a redneck is "a man who takes pride in his ignorance."

I based this definition on a man I met in 1977. I got a job at a sawmill in Lee's Ferry, which was about twenty miles out into the woods, outside of Vickburg, Mississippi. They put me on the line and they told me to do whatever Albert said, and he was the dumbest guy I ever met. The first thing he did was double the speed of the line until I got buried in half-sawn boards. Then he would stop the line and help me back on my feet, while the rest of the crew had a good laugh.

After a week of this Albert challenged me to a head-banging contest. I declined, but he said I was chicken, and I figured he would bother me until I said yes. I stalled so I could figure out a way to lose the contest and not get hurt. I knew I better not win, because then Albert would want to do it again. So we started banging our heads together harder and harder. I figured if I hurt myself just bad enough, he would let me lose, and then we wouldn't have to do that again.

The sawmill was in kind of a backwoods situation. It was closed down on the opening day of squirrel hunting season. It actually takes brains to hunt a squirrel -- there's nothing wrong with that.

But I'm talking about Albert -- he was the dumbest man I ever met.

I just remembered this because Hillary Clinton has all the rednecks voting for her. So, if you're ignorant and proud of it, I guess she's your gal.

But I'm voting for the smart guy.

MY CAR. I don't believe in personal attachment to vehicles, but it happened anyway. I love my car. It's a 1993 red Toyota Corolla -- I don't give it a name, I won't go that far, but I have developed quite an attachment.

I bought it four years ago from a man in Bellingham. It cost me $2,900, when the car had 130,000 miles on it.

This Toyota was the first car I ever owned which wasn't a Ford or Chevy, so I was crossing the line.

I basically lived in the Toyota for the next three years -- lived out of it, I mean -- camping and travelling and staying with friends and relatives. We drove all over the country -- to Texas, California, Ohio, and New England -- it was a beautiful car. Back then, in 'o4 and 'o5, gas was cheap and we just flew over the highway

The seats were just right -- I could drive 12 hours at a stretch and my butt would never get sore. Nothing ever broke. I just changed the oil every 3,000 miles. And it looked so pretty when I washed and waxed it.

It's four years later now. The Toyota has 220,00 miles on it. It has a few small dents, it doesn't polish up so well, the upholstery has a few spots and signs of wear, and there's a crack in the windshield -- all these things add up.

But it still runs as good as it ever did, and I still love it. People say a Toyota will go to 300,000 miles easily.

This is pathetic -- writing about my car. I really need a girl friend.

A GOOD-LOOKING NEWSPAPER FOR LACONNER. With all due respect to Alan Pentz, the founder of the Channeltown Press, he published one heck of an ugly newspaper. He had a bitter, black sense of humor and he hated art and poetry -- feared it, actually. The current owners have not been able to revise Pentz's misanthropic vision.

In contrast, the Puget Sound Mail, which is the old, original, and true newspaper for LaConner, has always been as good-looking and as optimistic as the community it served. Previous publishers -- Pat O'Leary, Bonnie McDade, Dick Fallis, and myself -- put out a paper that was bright and cheerful. McDade published a very nice-looking paper in the early 1980's featuring Art Hupy's candid photography. Dick Fallis was short on business sense, but he had some interesting ideas. And Pat O'Leary was an editor and publisher of legendary proportions.

My own effort at the Puget Sound Mail was at least cheerful. And it was good-looking too. Helen Farias was the graphic designer, and she was the best in the Skagit Valley.

A good-looking town like LaConner deserves a good-looking paper with an optimistic outlook.

Truth

TRUTH: If we were not so over extended in Iraq and Afghanistan, we could easily overthrow the dictators in Burma and Zimbabwe -- it wouldn't take a week.

A SAYING: When you're really good, you don't waste your time trying to get better.

I made up this saying on Saturday afternoon while watching the Fanny Alger band playing at Quinn Thompson's 45th birthday party out at Rexville. Fanny Alger is my favorite rock band -- they make noise, they bang on the drum, they jump up and down -- they ain't trying to get better, they're too good for that.

SCOOP: Frog Hospital scooped the Skagit Valley Herald on the crop forecast. The Herald had a story in their Sunday edition about how the cold spring weather will likely cause a poor yield for local farmers -- but we put that same news out on Saturday afternoon. Of course, several editors and reporters at the Herald read the Frog Hospital -- maybe that's how they found out.

LITTLE IMPROVEMENT: The Channeltown Press, LaConner's weekly newspaper, came up with the brilliant idea of changing their name to the LaConner Weekly News. They also gave themselves a graphic design makeover. Our impression is that they don't look any better than they used to. It's a dull but competent newspaper -- competent in that they publish a decent summary of the week's news in this small community, but needlessly dull.

What LaConner needs is a lively newspaper -- gay friendly, pro-agriculture, and anti-Wal-Mart/big box -- those three editorial themes would resound strongly throughout the community and increase the paper's ad revenue.

But the paper's biggest shortcoming is the editor's failure to appreciate art. Aesthetic judgment is essential in a town that prides itself artistically, but is woefully lacking at the LaConner Weekly News.

GOODBYE: It's goodbye to Rush Limbaugh. This right wing blow hard has made a living for 16 years by creating anti-Clinton hostility. When Hillary and Bill make their expected departure from the national stage, Rush Limbaugh will have no reason to live. Isn't that sweet?

DECENT: I'm serious about a decent campaign between McCain and Obama. I want to see both men at their best -- so we can get the best President. My idea is that the two candidates should make a mutual agreement -- to campaign as hard as they can, but each to go home and take a break on one day each week. It's better if they both stay rested -- you make better decisions that way

Otherwise you end up with a President so worn-out he's like a machine.

JOHN F. KENNEDY. The last time West Virginia had a primary that mattered was 1960, when JFK battled with HHH, Hubert Horatio Humphrey, the Senator from Minnesota. Kennedy swept the state and went on to the nomination.

I remember the 1960 campaign. I was 14. I went to a Kennedy rally near my suburban Chicago home. I greeted him as he jumped out of a limousine into a roaring crowd. Kennedy had to fight his way through the crowd like it was a rugby match, with everybody trying to pound him on the back. The air was electric with excitement.

After the rally I picked up a few "Kennedy for President bumper stickers," which I could not use at the time because I was too young to drive and my folks did not share my enthusiasm for that candidate. So I put the bumper stickers away.

I found them a few days ago, going through a box of old things. Since I had two of them, I decided to use one of them now. If you see my red 1993 Toyota around the valley, look for a "Kennedy for President" sticker on the back bumper -- it's an original.

TOUGH: Barak Obama is the toughest man in America. Obama is tougher than Vladimir Putin. Obama is so tough he doesn't even act tough -- he doesn't need to.

Ground Rules

I missed a couple of news cycles. Things were happening too fast and I couldn't keep up, and the Clintons were driving me crazy.

But it's all worked out. Obama has prevailed and my equanimity has been restored. Let us not forget, even if you don't support Senator Obama, that he has two equally important responsibilities. One is to be the Democratic candidate for President. The other is to be a father to his two young daughters.

I don't think Senator Obama is right about everything and he is not the savior of our country, but I will go a long way to protect his privacy and his dual role. The fatigue that was showing on his face last week was obvious to many -- he has more to do than to race from airport to airport. He also has to read bedtime stories. And when Michelle Obama talks about the sacrifices they are making on this campaign, she means the loss of family time.

So, give these people a rest, and that goes for John McCain and his family as well. He has a boy in the service in Iraq. That weighs on his mind as much as becoming President.

With that in mind, and with the two nominations being fairly settled -- this is a very good time to take stock and to get off the frantic pace.

A few ground rules or in order: Age is not an issue. John McCain is not too old to be President. Cindy McCain won't reveal her income taxes. Neither did an equally wealthy Teresa Heinz reveal her income taxes in 2004. The men and women serving in Iraq are not stupid farm boys. They are educated, intelligent, and motivated -- as is John McCain. They say McCain has a hot temper, but that doesn't mean much, unless you're on his personal staff.

As for Senator Obama, charges that he is unpatriotic, un-American, and elitist should be fiercely resisted. He's from Chicago. He's not a country boy. I live in a rural area myself, but the idea that country people are truer folks is completely wrong. Obama plays basketball -- that's a city game. He plays hoop and other people shoot ducks -- fine. Most of our population is urban, despite the Jeffersonian myth, and pandering to the "rural elite" is a phony ploy.

CHANGE OF SUBJECT. Madonna, at age 50, having borne two children, is going on tour again, so her picture is on all the magazine covers -- her new "figure" is unveiled. It is so unattractive. She has somehow acquired the body of a prepubescent androgynous 12-year-old. The new mechanical Madonna body is presented like a styling change in Detroit when they had new models every year. This year she is anorexic, unlovely, unnatural, and anti-erotic. Where is the pasta? She is a disgrace to Italian woman everywhere.

Many women I know are 50 years old and older, and have born one or several children and the variety of their figures is very appealing. But I suspect those women aren't Madonna fans anyway.

It's the kids who look at Madonna's cover shot and think, "If I starved myself, and lived on wheat grass, and hired a personal trainer, and had a little work done, then I could look like Madonna."

Dreadful..... I like real Italian, but then I remember Sophia Loren.

COLD SPRING. Farmer Dave confirms that the Skagit Valley is having it's coldest spring since 1982 -- according to figures at the research station. It hasn't rained that much, but it sure has been cold, and the farmers are three weeks behind in the planting because the fields haven't dried up enough. Still, Farmer Dave says he has to plant now, but he feels guilty about that because running a tractor across a muddy field compacts the soil in a bad way.

Compacted soil is bad -- light, fluffy soil is what you want.

The berry crops -- blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries -- should come in fine, but they will be late.

But the potato crop is a worry, and that is the principle money-maker around here. Planting three weeks late in the spring does not mean that the weather gods will give you three weeks grace in the fall when the spuds are harvested. A shorter season means a poorer crop.

And potatoes are getting VERY important -- with rising food prices and all that. The time will come when people don't come up here to see the tulips -- they'll come up here to watch the potatoes grow and be very thankful that we have so much to eat.

Not in a Million Years

So, if Barak Obama fails to get the Democratic nomination, I will then reluctantly support Hillary Clinton........ Are you kidding? Not in a million years I won't. Don't even ask. There are so very few things in politics that I am sure of -- but this is one of them -- no Clinton, no Bush, and no Kennedy will ever get my vote -- I am so firmly opposed to family dynasties.

In the case of the Clintons -- they are trying to sneak around the 22nd Amendment which limits the President to two terms. The 22nd Amendment was passed by a Republican-controlled Congress in 1951 in revenge against the four-terms of Franklin D. Roosevelt.

The two-term custom was established by our first President, George Washington. FDR broke that custom in 1940 when he ran for a 3rd term. It was a radical move, but with World War II on the horizon, I would have supported his decision, and I would have supported his 4th term as well.

But Hillary and Bill Clinton are not extraordinary people -- I'm quite sure of that. They are just trying to sneak back into the White House, and to make an end run around the 22nd Amendment.

The Clintons are driven to obsession by a need to get back to the White House -- they have established no other home. Politics is their joint addiction, otherwise they can't stand each other. This is a very unhealthy couple. I couldn't vote for them -- I say this calmly.

I have worked so hard on maintaining a detached equanimity with regard to politics. I pride myself on my ability to listen to anybody -- even Rush Limbaugh -- without an increase in blood pressure. Although for Rush, I have to limit my exposure to no more than ten minutes.

I have travelled the country and mixed with people from all parts of the political spectrum -- and I'm always calm.

However, I must admit that I succumbed to a flash of anti-Clinton hostility these past few weeks. It was Hillary calling Barak Obama an elitist that got me into a total meltdown. I just about busted a gut. I swear I have not been so mad at a politician since Lyndon Johnson cancelled the War on Poverty because he wanted to bomb Hanoi.

I was furious to the point of physical illness. I was so mad at Hillary that I was going global and starting to get mad at all the people who supported her, including various friends and relatives whom I stopped speaking to. What a talent that woman has!

This fury lasted for ten days, but yesterday morning, I woke up after the sweetest dream -- a dream that had nothing to do with politics, but it was a romp on the beach with my California Sweetheart from 1970. It was nice of her to come back to visit me in the dreamscape -- You're not welcome to know the rest of the dream because there's a limit....... but I woke up with a smile, and I realized I was no longer mad at Hillary. In fact I was feeling a bit warm-hearted and magnanimous, and I wanted to forgive her and just let it go.

And the reason that I began to have such generous feelings toward Hillary? Because I know, from some profound depth in my heart, that SHE'S GOING TO LOSE and that the Obamas, Barak and Michelle, will prevail and go on to take the nomination and then take the fight to John McCain.

I offer no evidence for this conviction. I can marshal no facts in support of an argument, but I know that Hillary will lose. I know that this very week, in Indiana and North Carolina, she is peaking and reaching the high point of her political life -- but then it's all over.

Hillary, I understand how badly you wanted to be President, but it's not your time. There were so many good candidates this year -- especially Joe Biden, Chris Dodd, Bill Richardson, and John Edwards -- all hugely inspired toward public service -- I can only say I am grateful to you and to them for what you have done.

White Men Can't Jump

"White Men Can't Jump," filmed in 1992, is a text book illustration of how the races can work together. Woody Harrelson and Wesley Snipes play a pair of white and black basketball players who team up together and hustle pickup games in the black neighborhoods of Los Angeles. Wesley Snipes, the black guy, says to Woody Harrelson, "white men can't jump."

But Woody fires back at the black guy and says, "You'd rather look good than win."

These short vignettes reveal the complex psychology between the two races in America.

We should all watch this movie again. The other good movie to explain race relations is Spike Lee's "Do the Right Thing," filmed in 1989, where Danny Aiello plays the last Italian selling pizza in an all-black neighborhood in Brooklyn. Aiello and his two white sons display a nasty attitude to their all-black customers, who retaliate by burning down their store.

The result? Danny Aiello goes out of business, the young black people have no place to get pizza, and the only people to win are the Koreans who have a grocery store across the street. This movie is an example of how race relations can go badly.

Frog Hospital is teaching race relations now because it has become clear that the General Public needs remedial instruction.

Take Wesley Snipes, for instance, who was recently convicted of income tax invasion and sentenced to three years in prison. We can draw two conclusion from this. One, Snipes is a real idiot. Did he think no one was watching? The second point is that Snipes will do three years in prison because he's black. He gets two years for breaking the law, and an extra year for being a black man with an attitude.

Now, for remedial instruction, we need to point out that Wesley Snipes and Barak Obama are both black men of a similar age, but they are not related and do not even know each other. So if Snipes commits a crime, that doesn't that Obama is also a crook. It doesn't mean that Obama should denounce Wesley Snipes or refuse to see any of his movies.

But there's a reason why white men rule the world -- it's because we know how to keep all our ducks in a row. When a white man runs for President, he knows how to silence any disturbing relations. Presidents like LBJ, Richard Nixon, and Jimmy Carter all had stupid and embarrassing brothers -- who were firmly silenced and kept in place.
That is the natural habit of dominance.

Experienced politicians, like Bill and Hillary Clinton, with their razor-sharp, ruthless skills, know how to put away the old friends from the old neighborhood. They carefully analyze their relations. If you're going to cost them votes, they drop you like a hot rock.

But Barak Obama, being young and green and only slightly corrupted, does not have the ruthless habits of the Clintons. Instead he is deeply conflicted, because he has loyalty and long affection for Jeremiah Wright, and he knows it's wrong to put down his old friend.

And yet political necessity is driving Obama to renounce this old friend.

And, it should be said, Obama has been ill-advised by high-priced political consultants who tell him to act white. "You gotta act white like a white guy, otherwise the white guys won't vote for you."

Hillary knows how to act white, she's inventing new code words everyday, and subtle ways of communicating to her new darlings of the working class. "I'm like you," she says, "I feel your pain," she says.

The breakdown between Senator Obama and his old friend, Reverend Wright, is a sad situation and a personal matter.

Or it would be a personal matter if both parties were white.

But I will repeat my support for both men. Senator Barak Obama will make an excellent President. And Reverend Jeremiah Wright is like a fire in the night.

I love both of these guys. Senator Obama is being knocked around by friend and foe alike and he is not reacting smoothly. That just makes me like him all the better -- because he DOESN'T know how to play the game very well.

That's the whole point of his candidacy

On My Own. The subscription drive has failed. Frog Hospital has plenty of readers but a scant few paid subscribers. I need to let that go. I did appreciate the income I received, but more importantly, my paid subscribers served as an informal board of directors -- people who I answered to, people who backed me up.

But I'm on my own now, and I'm starting to see the good of this -- a chance to try some new things. Frog Hospital will be evolving be your eyes. Be sure to get off the mailing list if you're not enjoying the ride. All you have to do is hit reply, and type "Unsubscribe."

Say Uncle

I claim the Rev. Jeremiah Wright as my true South Side uncle. If you disrespect him, than you disrespect me. If you walk out of his church, than you're walking out of my life.

There is a tidal wave of religious bigotry and racial intolerance focused on Rev. Wright, but I stand with him. America needs to hear what he has to say.

I am surprised at the furious reaction to Wright's sermons. I see now that we have not overcome race -- we can get there, but we can't runaround race, we have to go right through it. And we can get through race and get to a better place where Barak Obama serves as President.

But if Rev. Wright makes you mad, or if you think he ought to keep quiet in order to improve Obama's chances, then you have a racial problem and you need to deal with it.

I am calling on every single American that I know about this. We need to deal with it. But telling Rev. Wright to shut up and go home is like if you had said the same thing to me. The Rev. Wright is my uncle. He gets to talk, I get to talk, and we all get to talk.

God Bless America

Acting Tough

Golda Meir was the Prime Minister of Israel from 1969 to 1974. She didn't act tough, she WAS tough. She didn't need to convince anyone that she was serious, because she WAS serious. And because she truly had that strength, she was also warm and kindhearted. Look at this photo of her -- not a mean bone in her body. Furthermore, Golda was not a pretty woman, but she was nice to look at and pleasant.

In contrast, our dominant American female needs to prove something. Hillary needs to act tough -- but she's not tough, she's mean. That might explain why she arouses so much hostility.

Why did she stoop to calling my man Obama an elitist because he wouldn't shoot pool in a small town in Pennsylvania? A strong and sympathetic woman would have let his remarks go by -- or would even have backed him up on that. Let's see -- a black man from the South Side of Chicago goes into a small town in the countryside of Pennsylvania and he doesn't feel very comfortable?
I wonder why.

But Hillary just steps up and gives us a new code word, "blue collar worker." She says Obama is not in touch with them. Hillary is from Park Ridge, a leafy north side suburb of Chicago -- near to where I grew up. I know this territory and the status rankings that go with it. People who grow up in Park Ridge have the world at their feet unless they blow it. People from the South Side of Chicago face an uphill struggle, and yet Hillary calls Obama an "elitist."

She's mean, not tough. She's destroys and brings ruin.

So how is Obama going to finish her off? Well, Barak, she's a girl and you can't hit her. But I'm thinking, Obama is too smart for that. What he does -- he stays cool, he stays steady, and he keeps going. Hillary taunts him and goads him over and over again, but he keeps cool. What is he a wimp?

Then out steps Michelle Obama, the fierce one. She turns back to Hillary and calls her out, "Girl, you think you're tough. I'm gonna show you tough. You're ragging on my husband and I'm going to take you downtown."

And Michelle Obama will tear Hillary to pieces and there will be justice in the land.

Cold Spring

If this global warming gets any worse, we're going to have icebergs floating down the Skagit River. The cherry crop in eastern Washington has been devastated by late spring frosts, so your Washington-grown Bings and Queen Anne's will cost double. But look on the bright side -- that solves the labor crunch. Washington farmers have been facing a serious shortage of farm labor this season, but if half the fruit crop is ruined, they won't need so many workers.

Which brings us to the heart of the Frog Hospital policy of energy independence. The key is diversity -- just like what the farmers do. Farmers around here know they can never depend on just one crop, because everything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

Same with energy -- every source of energy comes with its own problem. Energy from foreign oil causes war. Wind power kills birds, ethanol from corn drives up food prices, solar energy is just plain pricey, and nuclear energy can blow up in your face.
The solution is to get a little here and little there. Diversify.

And conserve.

The Poconos

SCRANTON, PENNSYLVANIA. In 2004, I spent a week in late November walking the woods in the Poconos, in eastern Pennsylvania. All the leaves were down from the beech trees, making a copper-carpet, and soft for walking from the rain. I don't hunt, but I never saw a woods that looked so right for it -- fat bears in those hills. I didn't see the bears, but I know they saw me. Deer and wild turkey too -- I could have gotten my Elmer Fudd hat and shotgun and just gotten lost in those woods.

People from the West Coast think there's no country in the East, but they haven't seen places like the Poconos.

Besides the hunting news, there is little to report on the dreary debate between Barak Obama and Hillary Clinton, as the Pennsylvania primary approaches. One hopes for a decisive outcome.

Old John McCain, the War Hero. First, I have several good things to say about McCain. He is an indifferent fundraiser, and I consider that high praise. He has refused protection from the Secret Service and won't live in a cocoon. His son, a Marine, is serving in Iraq. McCain is one of few office pubic servants who can say that, and yet he never says that, because talk is cheap.

But his war record in Viet Nam -- yes, I know what he did, but why? He thought he was defending his country, but he wasn't. He was on a military adventure in a country we never heard of, protecting people who never did anything for us, and attacking people who never did anything to us.

Viet Nam wasn't our fight, and so my genuine praise goes to thousands of men my age who served their country best by refusing to fight in that damned, useless war.


Zimbabwe Independence Day Celebration. Saturday, April 19, 9 pm,
SIAM ON LAKE UNION,1880 Fairview Ave. $10, cash bar, live music. Open to one and all. Meet the real people from Zimbabwe -- those immigrants who have settled in the Seattle area. Hear the wonderful Shona music -- it is so good for dancing. It promises to be a great party this year, in celebration of Robert Mugabe's imminent departure.


"Don't Get Me Started"


At the Water Cress Medical Center, where I work in a stress management position, I have noticed a lot of "guarding" behavior in the nursing staff. Guarding is a medical term, defined as follows:


Abdominal guarding: Tensing of the abdominal wall muscles to guard inflamed organs within the abdomen from the pain of pressure upon them. The tensing is detected when the abdomen wall is pressed.


But in the nursing staff, guarding is not evidence of a diseased organ, but rather a psychological defense. It means, "Don't ask me how my day is going, because I just want to get through it. And please don't ask me what's wrong, because if I start talking, I won't be able to stop, and I'll start screaming..... I have to get back to work."

Medical Modesty. Last summer, the White House announced, with full-color illustrations, that President George Bush was about to undergo a colonoscopy. We got all the details of his intestinal examination, because our beloved president was being "open" about it. But I didn't want to know. Why don't they just say "a routine medical procedure" ?

And Washington Governor Christine Gregoire, several years ago, bravely and openly, told the public at large about her breast cancer.

I don't actually know these people. We are far from being intimates. So, why, in God's name, are they compelled to literally spill their guts to perfect strangers?

I'm going to vote for the first candidate who makes the following statement:

"My health is my own business. I see a doctor and I have a loving family and friends with whom I discuss these matters.

I will only tell you that my health is quite good and I am as certain as anyone can be that I will be able to complete my term of office. But if I become seriously impaired, I will resign.

And if you can't trust me on what I just said, then don't vote for me."

This statement of privacy applies to the rest of us. It's a matter of modesty, not shame. Of course, one should never be ashamed or embarrassed about their health, or some disease that threatens their life, but one ought to be modest.

Modest -- such an old-fashioned word. Do you know what it means?

Retirement Plans

I'm going to retire when I stop working. At that point I will continue eating, but not as much, since I won't be working. When I'm too old to drive, I plan to resume hitchhiking. It will easy for an old geezer to get a ride if he waves his thumb. Also, I will continue to take care of myself until I am no longer able, at which point I will become someone else's problem.

I'll work out the details on a day-by-day basis.

Also, old men tend to be long-winded when they talk about their past. I intend to keep it short, unless someone really wants to hear it.