Monthly Archives: February 2020

Corona Virus Side Effects

There is a lot of angst regarding the corona virus (COVID-19). Oddly, most news coverage focuses on its impact on the stock market.

The news media, critically important for a democratic society, focuses on stories that sell newspapers, encourage internet clicks, or result in more pharmaceutical advertising during the evening news.

However, it’s best to put things in perspective.

According to the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) there are now 459 COVID-19 [link] cases in the United States. There was a death  today, which although is regrettable, makes a total of one.

On the other hand, influenza (the flu) has sickened at least 19 million across the U.S. and led to 10,000 deaths and 180,000 hospitalizations. This does not seem as significant because we encounter influenza every year. The Spanish flu in 1918 killed between 50 and 100 million people around the world.

The disease that infects millions and kills thousands is no big deal because we see it every year. A new disease, because it is novel, scares us to (near) death.

I’m not minimizing the potential of the virus. However, COVID-19 has been sensationalized, so the threat and probability of encountering it are more prominent in our mind, regardless of likelihood. Each of is, at least at this point, far more likely to be seriously affected by or to die from influenza, yet we focus on COVID-19.

I wish each of you good health–and a speedy recovery for your equity holdings.

 

Legacy

I recently read an article on the Internet (so it must be true) that advised me that I, like most other people, will never leave a legacy.

I disagree. My legacy will never be recognized with a monument, a historical marker, or a street named after me. My legacy won’t be required reading, in fact it will never show up in any book. It won’t even show up in Trivial Pursuit.

I don’t care.

The legacy I want to leave includes people who achieved more than they knew they could because I helped them realize their potential.

People who knew I would always treat them with respect.

People who understood my values, not because of any pontification, but because of my day-to-day behavior.

That’s the legacy I want to leave.

Newspapers

I am one of those Luddites who still enjoys reading via pigment on cellulose (i.e., ink and paper). Several times in the past, I subscribed to more than one newspaper–usually a local paper, then another from the main city of the metropolitan area. I wanted the local news, but also the regional news.

How did I choose the newspaper? The local paper was geographic while the metropolitan newspaper was based on the funnies.

van halen

Why? Because if a newspaper treats the funnies as important, they will treat everything else they print as important. It’s kind of like Van Halen (and I RARELY get to compare myself to Van Halen in any way, shape or form). Van Halen specified in their contracts with their performance venues that there would be M&Ms in the dressing room, but all the brown M&Ms would be removed.

While it initially sounds like a 20th century ridiculous prima donna demand, there was a method to their madness. If, when they got to the site, the M&M requirement was met, they felt that they could safely assume that the other requirements were met. If there were brown M&Ms, they knew that there was sloppiness on other issues, like how safe and sturdy the stage was, security, and other real world issues. The M&Ms were like the canary in the mine shaft–an early warning system.

But I digress.

My local paper, The Virginian-Pilot (now owned by Tribune Publishing*) has continued to shrink over the past few years. The newspaper has gotten thinner, the lower quality newsprint pis allowed more space today than a year ago? The obituaries. You’d think that they would not want to feature how their readers are dying off, but since they’re all paid obituaries . . . .

Why do I like real newspapers? First, I’ll take a newspaper into situations such as rain, a bath tub, etc. where I would never take my computer or tablet. Second, it just feels more reliable. How many times, when reading online, do you see updates every few minutes. They don’t have to be accurate because they can always correct errers errors. Newspapers should (and I hope–I HOPE) do more fact checking before they publish because they can’t do updates.

I’ll have more to say, the next time I can sit down and write this blog.

 

 

 

*Tribune Publishing Company (formerly Tronc, Inc.) is an American newspaper print and online media publishing company based in Chicago, Illinois. The company’s portfolio includes the Chicago Tribune, the New York Daily News, The Baltimore Sun, the Orlando Sentinel, South Florida’s Sun-Sentinel, the Hartford Courant, additional titles in Pennsylvania and Virginia, syndication operations, and websites.

 

Win a House!

St. Jude’s Research Hospital for Children has a very clever method for raising money. Why? Because they do not charge patients for services.

Danny Thomas, the 1950’s television star, was born Amos Jacobs back in Toledo, Ohio (my hometown). He prayed that God would point him to the career God intended. He promised to build a hospital if God answered. God answered. The hospital is St. Jude’s.

Please note that Danny Thomas did not ask for success, only to be pointed in the right direction.

St. Jude’s prime fundraiser, at least around here, is to raffle off a house at $100 per ticket. Apparently, the house is constructed with each trade or contractor contributing their time, effort, and materials. The winner  gets a house and the money goes to the hospital to help the kids.

However, as nice as the house is, St. Jude could possibly double their money if they wanted to. The current house being built here has four bedrooms and three bathrooms–perfect for a young family. However, for this year we did not buy a ticket because we’re trying to downsize.

As we many,, many, many Baby Boomers age, maybe a second house raffle for a single floor ranch would be attractive. I know I’d buy a ticket (or two or three).

Oh, and build it somewhere without covenants, conditions, and restrictions. I don’t want Gladys Kravits isn’t a neighbor. (If you don’t get the reference, you wouldn’t be interested in a single floor ranch.)

It Shouldn’t Be Complicated

In my ongoing effort to needlessly complain about modern life, may I present the next chapter —- the bathroom.

Like everybody (or, at least, almost everybody) else my parents managed to teach me how to properly deal with my personal effluvia before I went to college. At home, it was the porcelain toilet (or as Archie Bunker would say, “terlet”) with the seat adapter for small derrieres, the little step, etc. I figured I was golden.

My father bought a small, swampy piece of land near Lake Erie and built a cottage. He built a boat–a great story for another time–which was tied up out front (COOL!). However, the cottage was originally one room, ergo, no indoor plumbing. However, my aunt and uncle, who had built a year-round house next door graciously let us use their outhouse (EWWWWW!). That was almost enough for me to backslide–but I didn’t. Things putted along normally through the 1950s, 1960’s and into the 1970’s.

I forget what the original reason was, but in the 1970s, there was a huge move to save water. People would put a brick into the tank on the back of their toilets to reduce the amount of water per flush. The mantra was “If it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down.” When visiting someone, it was awkward–do you flush, or not?

Things settled back in, briefly, then high-tech public restrooms became de rigeuer. Self flushing toilets–which scared the you-know-what out of youngsters when the toilet kept flushing as they sat there.

Then, automatic faucets, automatic soap dispensers, automatic towels, and automatic doors took over. The problem is that no two bathrooms are alike, hence I find myself holding my hands under a faucet with a handle or trying to find the handle on an automatic faucet. It’s the same for soap, towels, etc.

If there’s one bodily function that should not be intimidating—you get the idea.

If you’ll excuse me, I need to, you know.