Doctor, doctor

Years ago, my parents' doctor, the doctor who delivered me and my brothers and sister and the pediatrician who take care of us, were almost friends of the family. They, and their staffs, knew much more about our family then just medical issues because they took the time to talk with us (or at least my parents). That is something that has faded over the years. The first sign was when our pediatrician, who had an arrangement with another pediatrician in the neighborhood to cover for each other during vacations, joined a practice with that pediatrician and a third. At first, it wasn't a big change as the two older pediatricians kept their offices and the third pediatrician circulated among the two offices. Except the third pediatrician didn't know who we were and it felt strange to be examined by a stranger (as a side note, I saw her again 20 years later in her side gig as a mohel -- she was very nice and made sure all parties were comfortable, which, considering what she was doing, was pretty important).

As the years went by, the doctors who treated our family retired and we were forced to find new ones. As my mother's health deteriorated (my dad has long since passed) her doctors became the various specialists associated with old age. However mine, and wife's, were still the general internists that treated our parents. However, our experiences were so much different. Our first doctor was so busy that, when you were sick, by time you could get an appointment, you were either healthy or in the ER. It seemed he spent more time entering our information into his computer (at the time very modern) then he did checking us out. With a new health plan at work, we soon had a new practice to go to. Our second doctor, who we loved, was a little more old fashioned and would actually spend time talking to us (I still remember one time, while he was supposed to be examining me, a piece of artwork he ordered arrived and we spent several minutes discussing it).

When I mentioned to my mother that he reminded me of her and dad's old doctor she sighed and wished more doctors were like that. When I asked why she said that when the doctor actually talked with and listened to her she gave more information. It wasn't that she was deliberately withholding information, it was just that it didn't come to mind until they were chatting. She swore that he provided her with better care because of this. After we hung up I thought about it and realized that while we were chatting I asked him about something else I had forgotten about and it changed the course of the exam.

Today, I go to a sole practitioner who, while competent and has a very good staff, is so busy he barely has time to know who I am. I need to come in armed and ready with what is ailing me, sometimes with a list of questions, mostly so I don't forget because I know if I do, it will be a little while until I can ask him. Not his fault, it is the nature of modern health care. You see, he has been a practitioner in my area for decades (an older family member of my wife's recommended him) and now has, from looking around the waiting room, a large elderly cliental, a number of whom, I assume, are on Medicare. Considering the lower fees Medicare and insurance companies are paying these days, it is obvious he needs to take extra patients to make ends meet.

What reminded me of all this was an article in the NY Times a few weeks ago about insurers paying physicians to devote more time to their patients, in the hope that they will be able to scale back costly treatments later. I thought of what my mom said all those years ago, especially as I saw yet another pediatrician from our children's practice who didn't know us that well, though we've been patients since before our 4 year old was even born, and wondered just how much we are messing ourselves up today.

While I still trust my doctor to do what is right, I like to verify, at least as to the basics. He's overworked, I'm overworked -- mistakes happen. Not a problem unless the mistake is a serious health issue not caught. Preventive care doesn't pay as well as actual care, at least long term, for insurers and doctors who may not be caring for the patient by time the benefits are realized. This can not end well.

Private life v public life

The Times of London is upset that the American main stream media is not looking into rumors that former Senator, and Presidential candidate, John Edwards has a girlfriend while his wife stays at home dying of cancer. Ignoring the fact that he is not running for any office at the moment, why should I care? Who Edwards does is between him, his wife and his alleged baby momma.

Edwards is human and whether he is or is not cheating on his wife in his private life is none of our business. That is why it is called a private life. The real problem stems from those who confuse a politician's private life with a public life. We're not electing the Pope, we're electing a leader for our country, or in Edwards case, Obama is selecting a running mate. Give me a philanderer who can make the trains run on time over a tea-toter who is unqualified to be President any day.

This is not news, it is gossip. Just I don't care what Britney is up to or whether Mel Gibson is drunk again, I really don't care what Edwards does in his private life. Then again, I also didn't care about what President Clinton did with Monica Lewinsky, aside from the scandal taking him away from the important job of running the country. That whole mess was between Bubba, Hillary and Monica. If Hillary was ok with Bill's philandering, that was her business not ours.

I think my attitude stems from my believing the public has no role in being involved in acts between consenting adults. If two adult homosexuals want to enter a committed relationship, that is their business, not mine. If a married couple decide they want to swing with other married couples, that is their business not ours. If a wife chooses to turn a blind eye to her husband's alleged sex life, that is her business and no one else's. I still refuse to forgive the Republican leaders of that era from putting the country through that waste of time and energy just to, essentially score political points, by impeaching President Clinton. As recent news events have shown, the republicans have their own issues with sex scandals -- all of which I do not care about. The only reason I'm even mentioning their problems is that Republicans, in general, like to bash people around on moral issues that are no one's business except their own and I love when a hypocrite gets caught in a lie.

We don't know what Edwards situation is. He and his wife may have some sort of understanding regarding their private life that we, the public, are not privy to. In any event, I am more interested in a politicians thoughts on Iraq, the economy, fuel prices, climate change and other things that may affect my and my family's life then I do over who someone is sleeping with. Integrity in a person's private life is no where near as important as the integrity of a politician in his or her public life.

Edwards is human. So is every politician. Humans make mistakes sometimes. With roughly half of all marriages ending in divorce, I have a feeling a spouse having an affair is very common among all classes of society. Someone can have poor personal judgement but highly superior leadership skills and judgment. Until it can be shown that character issues relating to personal sexual and moral choices have anything at all to do with economic or political judgment, then it is a non issue to me. You can argue that a leader, such as former NY Governor Spitzer was showing reckless judgement by letting himself get caught and brought down by a sex scandal, but I argue that his sleeping around was not our business to begin with (though if the allegations of money laundering is true then he should pay a price for that). If we eliminated every leader who messed up his personal life from being a leader, we'd be a much poorer country.

Memories

My wife's great uncle, the brother of her grandmother, passed away a few weeks after a long and rich life, seven months after his wife of 63 years passed. In lieu of a funeral, his children decided to have a family/friend get together at their parents' home -- one final party, which they loved to give, for the road. And, but for my wife's great aunt and uncle hosting, it was one of their better parties. Full house, the great grandchildren and great grand nieces and nephews snuck off through the woods behind the house to the playground, just as their parents and grandparents had done for the last half century, while the older relatives hung around the house and chatted as usual, thinking, in the back of their minds, that as long as everyone had a good time Aunt Jeanne and Uncle Paul would be pleased.

One thing the children did, to set this off as a goodbye over a regular family get together, was bring out the old family photos. Some of those family photos dated back to the 1920s, when my wife's grandmother, Bea, and Uncle Paul, were children themselves. Now Bea died at a very young age, in her very early 40s, from a tumor that could've easily been operated on today, when my mother-in-law and her sister were still children, so Paul ended up with all of the family photos. Fast forward to a few weeks ago and my wife was looking at photos of her grandmother she had seen only briefly over the years (the photos were always available, it was just that we were so busy visiting Jeanne and Paul that we never looked through them). We looked through them and were amazed at the family resemblances. I had never seen pictures of my grandmother-in-law and was amazed at the resemblance to my wife and her mother. Years ago, when my wife and I were first dating, I was at her mother's and saw a black and white photo of my wife and asked her when she had black hair. It turned out the photo was of her mother in her 20s. Well talk about deja vue because I saw the same thing with her mother's mother - but for the clothing and the 1930s car in the background of one picture, I thought I could have been looking at a picture of my wife. More amusing, when I looked at a picture of Bea at around age 2 or 3, I could see my daughter looking back at me (she also looks like my sister, though after looking at that photo I see more of my wife's side).

Anyway, my wife borrowed several dozen photos from my mother-in-law's cousin to make copies of. More specifically, since I'm the one who is our home's IT administrator, she borrowed several dozen photos from my mother-in-law's cousin for me to make copies of on our computer's scanner. So, the other evening, I set about making copies of photos of people I didn't know, outside of Uncle Paul.

As I started scanning, our children walked in to see what I was up to. I just happened to have scanned a picture of Paul as a boy into our computer and explained I was copying some photos of their great grand uncle as child. Now our children, who only knew Uncle Paul as a good natured very old man who made weird sounds (he entertained many small children the last few decades with a singing, growling sound - our son hated it, our daughter loved it) with quite a few wrinkles, were amused when I showed them pictures of him when he was their age. That reminded me of the time, many years ago, when my grandmother showed my brothers, sister and me a picture of our grandfather as a baby. Aside from the lack of hair of both the baby and our grandfather, we refused to believe that was him, even after Grandpa swore it was him. After they left, I thought for a second that I could sympathize.

You see, I also met Uncle Paul as an older man, well into his 70s by time I met my wife. I of course had seen photos of Paul as a young child through old age over the years, including some of the ones I was scanning in. But scanning them in forced me to look at them a little closer. I looked at the pictures of my daughter and son, I mean my wife's great uncle and grandmother, in a small wagon, hugging each other as my wife's great grandmother leaned over them. I looked at various pictures of my wife, I mean her grandmother, posing with Uncle Paul -- sorry, the ears don't fit elsewhere -- and her parents. I saw my wife's grandmother with a beloved doll from the 1920s and saw our daughter hugging her Dora the Explorer doll. My mother in law still lives in the general area her mother grew up in so any buildings in the background of the photos look like they do today, outside of awnings over windows (then) and window air conditioners (now), further adding to my deju vue feeling. You get the picture I'm sure.

Anyway, as I scanned the photos I started seeing not just some people, some long gone, but a family just like mine -- mom, dad, a son and a daughter. The pictures of Hannah, my wife's great grandmother, reminded me of similar pictures I have of my wife and our children, especially when Uncle Paul was wearing his Harry Potter glasses at age 7 or 8, with his 3 or 4 year old sister, just as his 7 year old great grand nephew wears similar glasses in pictures with his 3 year old great grand niece. With the exception of Paul, I knew none of these folks yet after staring at them as I fixed flaws in 80 year old photos, I feel as if I do, to an extent. I knew Uncle Paul grieved his younger sister's early demise, he out lived her by a half century, just as I still grieve my younger brother's passing in a car accident when we were teens over 20 years ago but I felt his pain as I scanned in the photo of Paul and Bea, as young adults in 1937. Bea was looking away, but Paul was looking at her with affection, the way any older brother would upon realizing that the little annoying brat was now a beautiful woman.

There weren't many more of those photos after that. Unlike today, when it seems every moment is recorded on some camera somewhere, photos were usually taken only at special occasions. WWII soon interrupted and when that was done Paul was back with his war bride ready to begin his family. Bea also married around then and soon gave birth to my mother in law. However, scanning in those photos brought me back into that "nuclear" family of the 1920s and 1930s.

We don't need no 608 school superintendents

I knew that having 608 school superintendents for the state of NJ was waste of money in duplicative salaries, expenses and benefits, but I never realized how bad it was until I read an article complaining about all the perks enjoyed by the superintendents. A related article in today's press noted that the average salary for superintendents is $147,491. $147,491 x 608 = 89,674,528. Almost $90M, and that's before the perks! If we merge the districts to say 30 (21 counties, plus some big urban systems like Newark with a school population almost the size of a county's), the salaries would be 4,424,730. That's an $85M a year difference in salary alone! Add in the saved benefit costs by not having an extra 575 superintendents on the payroll, plus much of their duplicative, related staffs that could be consolidated and we're talking real money!

I understand that persons at a certain professional level earn certain perks that go with the job. And, if we had one superintendent for the entire state, I would expect that person to be paid accordingly, such as NYC's school Chancellor, Joe Klein, responsible for 1.1M students. But 608 Joe Kleins for fewer students (around 900,000)? Don't be ridiculous! I'm all for investing in education and paying people what they are worth, but I don't feel the great need to pay for a Lexus every year with all the works when a Camry that will last 7 or 8 years will do the same job just as well. Reduce the unnecessary overhead and return the money to the taxpayers or to the schools.

Ok, maybe comparing all 600 plus superintendents to the school chancellor is unfair, since NYC's schools are further broken down by districts. Still, the entire city, with a school population of about 200,000 students more than the entire state of NJ has only 42 community and high school superintendents. So going by that, maybe 30 is too low. Heck, considering the reputation of NYC's schools, which has been improving, maybe even 42 is a too low of a number. However, I'm pretty sure the entire state of NJ can find an appropriate number between 42 and 608.

North Carolina, for example, which has a population slightly larger than NJ, has just one superintendent (a rose by any other name...) and 115 school administrative units. Virginia, with a slightly smaller population than NJ, has 130 school districts, some of which are held in very high esteem. I'd say an appropriate number for NJ is somewhere around there. So, assuming 130 school districts is the magic number (who really thinks NJ would pick a lower number?), 130 superintendents times $150,000 (I'll give them a slight raise) is still only about $20M ($19,500,500 to be exact). Now $20M is sure a lot less than $90M (and I'm not even including benefits). Imagine what the state could do with that $70M (does anyone think it will be given back to us as tax cuts? -- ha ha). Oh wait -- this is NJ, a land run from a wretched hive of scum and villainy... oops, that's the Mos Eisley spaceport in Star Wars, not Trenton, but you get my point.

Unfortunately, this waste in money on school superintendents is only a symbol of a bigger problem in NJ; our addiction to a lot of government. I'm not a conservative who believes in virtually no government, calling for the abolition of agencies and services that come in handy, like courts, police departments etc. I realize that some government is necessary for the good of a society as a whole. But I think we've taken that to the extreme here in NJ. We can point to our thousands of different government offices at the local, county and state level (including various agencies) and see many wastes of money. Not just in bloated payrolls and duplicative services, but a decrease in efficiencies due to smaller governments not getting as good a deal with vendors as larger entities, different governments repeating various tasks that could be accomplished by fewer people, to lack of talent as the cream that rises to top is diminished. Of course we have some wonderfully run local governments, but, unfortunately, they seem to be overshadowed by the bad.

Think of it like baseball in the expansion age, when there are 30 teams vs baseball in 1950s, when there were only 16 teams -- the talent per roster today, even with the acceptance of minority players that were delegated to the Negro leagues, or just not drafted in the past, very rarely can compare with the talent of a roster from the 1950s. Only a few can and should make the majors.Yes I'm looking at you Washington Nationals (before this season I would've said Tampa Bay Devil Rays).

While I don't see consolidation in pro sports coming any time soon, at least while the clubs make money, state government is non-profit and in place to provide basic services. There is nothing stopping us from reducing government (aside from all the corruption involved of course). Find the good local government leaders and keep them in majors. As for the rest, it is time to consolidate and send most of these government entities back to the minors.

78% of American workers say they are burnt out. In other news, 22% of American workers are drinking or lying

According to a recent poll, about 78 percent of American workers say they feel burned out. Gee, why ever would American workers feel burned out? Could it be the constant threat of layoffs as organizations seem to restructure every year while sending your job overseas (white and blue collar)? The unwillingness of companies to keep up with inflation with stingy raises for those who actually do the work that make a company succeed with the expectation that workers will completely surrender their life to work? Upper management making millions in compensation while only giving the rank and file 2 to 3 weeks of vacation and increasing their work load (thank you sir, may I have another [smack])? And until workers are ready to say yes we can and get serious about the need to change tracks and demand workers get more benefits at the expense of the stock market (which many workers are invested in via their 401k), work life will only get worse.

Though I definitely fall into the underpaid, overworked crowd, I do have one great benefit. My job has very flexible hours, the work week is generally under 40 hours, lets me telecommute 3 days a weeks and allows me to take time off pretty much whenever. More importantly, with small children, I'm home with them a lot more than I would be otherwise. It was very nice the other day to email my boss and say I was taking my comp time (our official week is 35 hours, I haven't worked that little in years) & headed to the shore with my son. Life is too short to be miserable.

I have a job that pays me much less than what I should be earning via my education and the amount of work I do. I'm juggling more plates than I can count these days. I constantly work on special projects that make the company significant money and my only reward is getting a 3.1% raise over a 2.9% raise at the end of the year with no chance of promotion thanks to a flat structure. If I chose, I could probably find an organization with much better career opportunities. So why do I stay? Simple, it's due to flexibility. Nothing like taking the sting out of Monday morning than the knowledge that I don't have to battle rush hour.

Don't get me wrong. There are plenty of Sundays I wake up and thing "ugh, tomorrow is Monday." My job sucks at time, and I'm definitely feeling burnt out, but then I have to remind myself that there is more to life than work. You either live to work or work to live. I choose the later. This may bite me later, when I'll be wishing I had more money, but for now it is ok. Life is a tradeoff. Those who keep believing that if they just work hard for their employer that things will get better for them are doomed. I know of one long time worker in my office who, when asked why she was leaving, simply replied, this place finally wore me down. I'm pretty sure that will be me one day.

Hard work and determination. That's the ticket! Just buckle down and get the job done.And it would be excellent advice if I was my own boss of my own company. However most of us are not. We work for somebody else and are subject to the whims of our employers. Most of us just have to take it and grin. Complain and the results may not be what you'd like. As one director in my company said when an employee was complaining about something, "there are no locks on the exit door."

So until then, ignore the man behind the director's door making much more than you, getting two or three times as much vacation time as you, shows up later, leaves earlier, does half as much actual work, and knows about as much about your field as you've forgotten. Keep working hard, you have nowhere to go in your organization but up. *snickers*

They paid off the dog

They paid off the dog. That's the only thing I could think of as I watched three 6 month old feral kittens playing on our children's swing set the other morning. I admired their acrobatic moves, especially as we have one of the old fashioned metal swing sets that don't allow for climbing with, or holding on with, claws; or at least so I thought until I saw two of the kittens have a play fight from the top of the set while they plotted who jump from the top to pounce the third kitten. Very cute I thought, and very annoying, as I'm tired of cats running through our yard, marking their territory and annoying our own cats. However, it was then I saw the 4th cat. The momma cat. Grendel!

About 4 years ago, a feral cat gave birth to three kittens in our yard. There was a calico, a light brown tabby and a darker tabby with yellow eyes. They grew up used to us but always kept a cautious distance when we were outside (better then when a stranger showed up). Yet they remained very curious about our activities, climbing on our roof, over the fence, climbing onto the screen door top peer in (nothing like walking into a dark room and see nothing but two eyes staring at you from outside to wake you up). As they were all females we knew we had to do something or we'd nave a cat-trastophy. To get them to be a little more trusting of us, we started feeding them. Slowly, they came closer and closer to us. Then one winter evening my wife put some food in a cat carrier. They started going in, always on the lookout, waiting to hear the back door open so they could escape. Finally, one night, my wife saw a few tails sticking out of the carrier and pounced! We got two, but Grendel escaped.

The two we captured were neutered and released to the wilds of our house. It's taken a few years but they've become somewhat tame (well at least the tabby has, the calico still doesn't trust us, unless we have food).Grendel , on the other hand, remained outside. We tried to catch her for many months, but ultimately failed even though she was very trusting of us and even let her pet her. Finally the day came when she no longer trusted us and we stopped feeding her (though, since it was summer and our son was 4 at the time and prone to dropping food all over the yard, she continued to eat well. Her visits to our yard slowed a bit when we got a dog and then our yard completely fenced in. She still showed her kitty face, looking for food, but soon left for greener pastures.

She was the runt of the litter and, when she didn't get pregnant right away, we assumed she couldn't. Bad assumption, as we discovered when we saw a plump Grendel one day a few years ago. We assume she gave birth but never saw the kittens. A thinner Grendel roamed our yard for a time and then one day we realized we hadn't seen in her a while. For a long time after that, we figured that what happens to many feral cats happened to her. Then one day, we saw her again -- long story short, she showed us why we never see squirrels or other small animals or birds in our yard. I guess those critters are quite nutritious as she looked pretty big -- oh no! Not again. Sigh. This time we saw at least one kitten one day but never saw it again as Grendel disappeared once again.

These days I see her roaming the neighborhood now and then, sneaking through backyards yet always headed back home to ours. I suspect she struck a deal with the dog and now lives unmolested under our shed, apparently leasing space from the neighborhood groundhog, Chuck II (we used to have Chuck I until he disappeared one day, the following spring, while cleaning the shed, I discovered what happened to him). Now when we see strays roaming our yard, we send the dog out and he generally chases them away. Yet the strays keep coming. We couldn't figure it out until the other morning. There, in full view of our lazy dog enjoying the morning sun on his belly was Grendel and her brood. We didn't actually see them wink at each other, but there is no other obvious answer -- Grendel bribed the dog, who is looking much fatter himself these days. Either that or she threatened him, but our dog is usually too dumb to understand what a threat is. He's the type of dog to go "Oh, my stinky black and white critter friend. Let me go bug him by barking at him even though he is going to spray me. Such a clown." No, we're pretty sure she is paying him off with some treat that only dogs like. Meanwhile, we wish she'd stop paying us rent. I'm tired of disposing of her "gifts" to us.

A usual Sunday, but not

This weekend, as we've done many weekends in the past, my family and I drove from our home in central NJ to the home of my wife's great aunt and great uncle on Long Island. As usual, on a Sunday in summer, the traffic was less than ideal. As usual, drivers had to slow down and rubber neck as they slowed to watch the big kites being flown. As usual the traffic reports seemed to forget highways in Queens and Brooklyn exist as they didn't feel the great need to mention that certain highways were backed up (but I heard about the bridges and tunnels every 10 minutes).

As usual, the house was packed with relatives. The contingent from central NJ, including us, were there, as well as those who live in Suffolk, a few miles from the house (the family is about evenly split between LI, Queens and NJ). There was plenty of food and talking. The younger cousins, some who hadn't seen each other since December, went through the woods that back onto the house, over a fence and into a school playground. My wife caught up with her cousins. I walked my daughter, wearing her princess dress for her great, great aunt and uncle, up the street so she could see the flowers some of the neighbors were growing (and show off). With the exception of those family members out of town on vacation, everyone from the tri-state area was there. All in all, just a usual family get together.

Oh wait, aside from the vacationers, there were two other people missing, at least physically, from the party. You see the great aunt passed away in December after a year long battle with cancer, and the uncle died on Friday. They didn't believe in funerals or the afterlife so, like when their mother passed away in December, their children held a celebration of their father's life at their home.

Though their parents weren't physically in the house, their presence was all over. It helped that the house looked as it always did, furniture and pictures in the same place etc. Their chairs were still in front of the TV, the phone on the lamp table between the chairs with an old NY Times folded up waiting to be read, the bed made as always. The only difference was the buffet was self serve and the aunt wasn't floating around to make sure we all had enough to eat. As one of the grandchildren noted, it was hard to accept that the couple were no longer here as it was, basically, business as usual in the house as we all came out to honor the memory of a very salt of the earth couple.

The children brought out the older family snapshots and the older cousins spent time going through the pictures, laughing at how young they were, writing names on the back. It was interesting to see the pictures of my wife's grandmother at 3, looking like our daughter does now, and again at 7 looking like my wife did as a child. Friends of my wife's cousins of all ages floated in and out, all with stories of how welcomed they were always made to fell in that home. All in all, you could feel the love people had for the couple. There were some tears, especially by the older relatives, many of whom had been going to and sleeping at that home for almost half a century, that their aunt/uncle/cousins were gone and this would probably be the last time theywould ever enter that home. Another chapter in their lives closed.

By the end of the day, the children looked exhausted. As the daughter said, she is looking forward to some down time. Her father's health, already in decline, took a serious turn down after his wife of 63 years passed. She was so busy caring for her father she hadn't even had time to process her mother's death. Still, both she and her brother, felt this was a wonderful way to celebrate the lives of their parents. With all the people crammed into the house, it was quite obvious they were well loved.

Though the mood was festive, there was also a mood of melancholy in the air. The people we came to honor were gone. For the older relatives, this was the last link to their parents' generation. We were sad, but not crying sad. We all knew they had a nice, long run in relatively good health. Though we knew we'd miss them, we were already moving on. Yet, there was something else.

We all made promises to see each other again, when things quiet down, but, in reality, we know it will be some time. With the common ancestors now gone, the big family get togethers are probably done too. The events will move to the next generation or even the generation after that as we are more scattered these days. Even if they continue, they won't be the same. Perhaps that was what we were really mourning.

Right to arm Goofy

Florida recently passed a law that allows employees to bring concealed weapons onto their employers property, as long as they remain locked inside their cars (just in case they get into a road rage gunfight before their morning coffee I suppose), despite their employers wishes. Disney is having none of that (though they are using a loophole regarding their fireworks show and not arguing it on constitutional property issues). What I don't understand is how the government (and the NRA of course) can force a property owner to allow a gun onto their land. What's next? Forcing me to allow a hunter onto my land because I abut some woods? Those slopes can be awfully slippery.

The Second Amendment applies to the government, not to Disney. While the government can not censor me from writing these words on this board, Disney can kick me off their property for saying something not so polite about the mouse and the owner of this board can delete my comments as this board belongs to them (I have this copied elsewhere so its not like my words would be lost forever). By the same reasoning, my employer can forbid me from bringing a firearm into work (and they do in all offices, including, the Florida office -- but the parking is part of an office complex and not owned by them), but, outside of reasonable restrictions (whatever those are), the government can not infringe on my right to own a gun (not that I would, I'd probably be more dangerous to myself with a gun than a mugger with a gun).

How does the state government justify a law that in essence denies what a private property owner can or can not allow on his or her property, outside of exceptions already noted as Constitutionally exempt such as zoning, civil rights, fire laws etc? Last time I checked, a gun owner was not a protected minority. If the government is telling me what I must allow on my land then the government has interfered with my enjoyment and maybe even seized it without a warrant. Is it really a legitimate state interest for the government to tell a business owner they must allow firearms on their property? I'm not familiar with the law or who owns Disney's parking lots, but doesn't Disney have a right to say what can and can not be brought onto their property? Unless this falls under the same constitutional arguments that finally ended segregation, I must be missing something. Otherwise, I don't believe the Second Amendment trumps what a private entity (by that I mean non-government) may or may not allow on his/her/their property.

If I was a business owner in Fla, I'd be looking to ban guns from coming onto my property for liability issues (though, the legislature exempts employers from liability, I don't want my insurance company's lawyer to prove it wrong). Now I wouldn't search my employees' cars and wouldn't know if they did bring weapons unless they advertised it as I would take a don't ask, don't tell approach. As an employer/business owner, my concern is to my customers, not an individual employee's. If the employee wants to park his gun loaded car on the street, that is fine. But, with certain exceptions, his or her individual rights would end at my property line. I wouldn't allow an employee to say bad things about me and my company, I wouldn't allow them to smoke on my property (more because of the smell of cigarette smoke and cleaning up the butts on my property) and I probably wouldn't let them drink on my property. As the property owner, my rights and beliefs would superceded my employee's individual gun rights. However, if if an employee didn't like my bans, then they would be free to find employment elsewhere. It is my property and I have rights too.

As to the woman in the article who insists she needs her gun to feel safe for her 35 mile drive: talk about paranoia. Where the heck is she driving anyway? Are the highways around Disney really that unsafe? I used to work in a really bad area of Brooklyn, NY (back when the crack wars were raging) and never felt the need for a gun, as if I was going to get into a shootout in the hood. My car had good acceleration to get me out of dodge if I had to move fast. In the same vein, walking around Newark with a gun wouldn't make me feel safer either (mainly because whoever had a gun aimed at me would probably shoot me before I had a chance to make my clean underwear unclean). By the way, if you can afford a 70 mile daily commute at today's gas prices, then you can afford to move to a nicer area little closer to work.

Anyway the one thing I am certain of: the taxpayers will be footing the huge legal fees this is sure to bring when the lawsuits start flying. Nice to know NJ isn't the only state with fools who care little about controlling spending "because it's not their money" running the show.

Another of the greatest generation is gone

My mother-in-law's Uncle Paul passed away yesterday morning, just 7 months after his wife of 63 years, Jeanne, died from cancer. Like many couples who had been together forever, or so it seems, when one dies the other soon follows. I saw it with my grandmother after my grandfather died (and saw it again a few years later when my father died of a broken heart after my brother died in a car accident, but that is another story). They were from a generation that we will probably never see again.

My own grandparents had been gone about 10 years when I met Jeanne and Paul when I started dating my wife about 14 years ago. A close family, they were surrogate grandparents to my wife and brother-in-law, and took up the roll with me, my brother's law's wife and their grand-daughters' husbands. They were special people. They had a charm that made hosting parties seem effortless, which they were still doing well into their late 80s. They could communicate with those from 9 months to 99 years; nothing like Aunt Jeanne sitting at the piano to get the little ones attention or great-grandpa Paul making his sound. You didn't feel like you had to visit them, which, less face it, can happen with some older relatives; you felt like you wanted to visit them. They always seemed to put others ahead of themselves, making sure their guest were comfortable. The last few years, as various family members aged and/or moved further away, the Long Island couple took to celebrating their wedding anniversary with a big family dinner at a Manhattan restaurant, central to most of the family (and traveling distance for some of the older NJ relatives). They were the first people, outside of our own mothers who we told when we were pregnant with our first child.

We were also the ones to tell them of the space shuttle exploding a few years ago; we were the first ones over for a family dinner and when we arrived they were all upset they couldn't reach a cousin who had recently entered a nursing home. Trying to console them, we said he was probably just watching the news about the space shuttle. When they asked what news, my wife and I both looked at each other and remembered they weren't big on watching TV. That was the only time I ever Aunt Jeanne, a woman from New Orleans who met Uncle Paul during the war, curse (a simple "Damm!").

Like my grandparents, and many of their generation, they were not highly educated, at least in the sense that we think of educated people now with various degrees. They were self taught, reading whatever books and newspapers interested them. They kept abreast of current events and could argue a position as effectively as anyone. When Aunt Jeanne died the turnout by friends of them (or their children) was immense. I expect the same on Sunday when we return to their home for Paul's memorial (they weren't into funerals). For my wife especially it will be hard as it will probably be the last time she sets foot in a house that she has been visiting and sleeping in for almost 40 years (our last sleep over was about 4 years ago).

Of course, like most others of their generation, they were affected by WWII. Uncle Paul served in Europe, dropping bombs on the Nazis and probably killing those who were killing whatever distant relatives he still had in Germany. He had many stories, some that I've forgotten but, fortunately, are written down somewhere. He had his opinion on the atom bomb and how he was just happy he didn't have to go to Japan after the Nazis surrendered. I knew I had been in the family a long time when the stories started repeating. He kept in touch with many of his war buddies, including one who drew a kid in a comic strip for many decades with big ears that we all swore looked like Uncle Paul's. There aren't may of them left now, and the world's poorer place without them.

However, I feel I'm a richer person for having known them. If I had to describe them in one word, that word would be grace. They didn't believe in the after life so I hope that wherever they are now they are happy to be back together.

\

Almost made the IT guy cry

My office, in acknowledgment that we work differently these days, is shrinking our physical office space. Back in the day, this meant office folks being downgraded to the cube farm, but it means something else these days. Today (Friday), in our office of about 120 people, perhaps 40 or 50 people will be physically in the office. The rest will be telecommuting or vacationing. Physical attendance is a little better during the rest of the week, but almost all of us telecommute at least once a week, sometimes more. This has led to the office looking quite deserted many days so, in an effort to make the office seem more populated, and not to mention save money on rent and utilities, my office is reducing our office space. For some this has meant going from an office to a cube, for others this has meant office sharing. I fall in the later category.

This is not as bad as it seems. I have a laptop and telecommute several times a week. My office mate also telecommutes several times a week, but still has a desktop at work. This is not a major hassle as we usually are not in on the same days and we have a virtual private network (VPN) to log in on home. For me, with the laptop, I use my VPN token on the laptop from my home and start typing away. For my co-worker, she leaves her pc on at work and uses a virtual desktop from home which allows to be almost at work from home, at least electronically (the downside of this is her desktop at work takes up limited desk space). Through a careful dance around school and camp schedules, we've reached an equilibrium where we both have our own office on certain days of the week. The only days we have scheduling problems are days we're both in for our bi-monthly department meetings. Again, not a major hassle as laptops travel. However, since I'm the only one with a laptop, currently, I'm the traveling man. We have extra spaces, either hotel cubes for visitors or offices of people on vacation who currently have laptops that I can plug my machine into. At the moment, this is limited to a small, but growing percentage of office space as people in my position get converted from desktop machines to laptops. Yesterday was my office mate's turn.

My office mate is, admittedly, not the most tech savy person. Yesterday, when I walked into our shared office to file some paperwork (I'm still waiting for the truly virtual office) I saw the IT guy at her desktop, preparing her computer to be copied to her new laptop. The IT guy is a 40 something, friendly outgoing guy. You know the type, a hard worker who is also quick with a joke. His mental presence usually outshines his physical presence. Anyway, my co-worker was asking him how she would connect at home. You see, currently at home she has her home computer and uses that to log onto the system. The nice folks from FIOS hooked up her machine, she connected to the internet (and our network) and that was that.

So, in an effort to help her out, the IT guy first asked her what equipment she had at home. A thin, shiny black box. Oh a modem? No, they called it something else. A cable box? No, something else. Oh well, well you're going to need a router. A router, that's it! Well, the laptops have WiFi capability. Is the router wireless? I don't know. Can you connect with an ethernet cable. What's that?

At that point, I left my office. I didn't actually see the IT guy cry, but he sure looked deflated. Maybe he was just tired as he has been rewiring and remapping many employees for the last month as we downsized our space. Maybe he was just having a bad afternoon. Anyway, as I reached back to close the door, I looked back and saw the back of the seemingly shrunken IT guy. Though he didn't say it verbally, I saw him slowly shaking his head as his whole body seemed to let out one long "sigh." As I left, I got the feeling this wasn't the first time this happened to him. As for my co-worker, next week should be quite interesting.

The condensed work week

I saw an article about how some NJ towns are considering making their workers work condensed work weeks to save both the town and the workers' fuel costs. Nice idea, saving money is always good. But I have a better idea to save money. How about combining all the various municipalities and eliminate duplicate services/ bureaucracies first? We have thousands of different government entities on the state, local and county levels for our 21 counties. I bet the savings there, especially if you can combine several towns municipal buildings into one, will save way more money. Even better, the towns that find some of their essential services compressed for space, like a fire or police department, where the members need to be somewhat local, even if management is not, would be able to reuse the now abandoned buildings in lieu of building new space from scratch. In any event, with the savings from consolidation, government offices would be able to stay open 5 days and I as a citizen, who occasionally needs to do business with the government, will still have 5 days available to conduct my business.

Another issue I have with the condensed work week for government offices is the choice of day. What day will the offices be closed? The consensus seems to be Friday. As many who work in private offices or commute already know, Friday is already a very quiet day in the office because many choose that day to telecommute, including me. I also use my telecommute day to run various errands around town I can't do during the week, including interacting with my local government. How convenient they might close their offices the same day I'm home. Almost as if it's defeating the purpose of my not having to take time off to do errands I need to be physically home for.

Now some offices might remain open 5 days a week, but give workers the option to work condensed weeks to save them money. Great for the citizen who wants that 5th day, and I suppose it would save government some money as people could share desks or offices use electricity by not having as many workers on one particular day, but I wonder how much money the workers, especially those with children, will really save. It sounds more like a feel good proposal to me. Though not really the state's concern, what will the longer/condensed work days do to childcare etc? Will the cost savings people think they are getting in gas equal what they will have to shell out in, perhaps, paying babysitters extra money, paying someone to take a child (or anyone who can't drive) to an after hours event, ordering takeout, because there are not enough hours to cook etc?

I tired a condensed work week for a time and hated it. Perhaps it would've been ok if I had a shorter commute, but it just made a long day even longer. I felt like, for 4 days a week, all I was doing was getting up, going to work, coming home, going to be, rinsing and repeating. If I was making double my salary, it might've been tolerable as I could hire people to do the mid week chores I was saving till the weekend, but I wasn't so things just piled up. Not a way to live. Fortunately, my office also offered telecommuting which, though lonely at times, I appreciated much more. It gives me a life during the week and I end up working a longer day at home as I use my commuting time for work.

Back in the day, when the 8 hour work day was established, the theory went that the day was divided into thirds: 8 hours for work, 8 hours for leisure (though some wouldn't count commuting time as leisure, my 2 hours or so of NJ Transit travel each commuting day are pretty much the only two hours I get read and listen to the radio in peace) and 8 hours to sleep. With a 2 hour and change commute, a 10 hour work day would entail me leaving my house at 6:30 and not returning home until around 8 PM. Forget Little league, the gym, meals withmy children, after school events and any weeknight activities I might want to partake in. What good is a 3 day workweek if I don't have the time to enjoy a few hours during the rest of the week? Obviously, rising fuel prices might make my argument moot, as will more services being made available online, as taxpayers are forced to accept either higher taxes or a 4 day week, or the global economy makes different demands that make it reasonable to have an office open many more hours than just 9-5, but for those thinking how great a 3 day weekend will be: be careful what you wish for.

Home sweet apartment

I grew up in a NYC apartment in Queens. My wife grew up in a house in the suburbs. When we met, we were both 20 something city dwellers and quickly settled into a Brooklyn apartment, where we lived for a number of years. We might still be there but for one thing: we decided to become parents. As our 1 BR apartment soon began to become much too small, we began looking for alternative living arrangements. It was then I realized I'd have to do something I never thought I would do: escape from New York.

We considered staying in our apartment,at least for the short term. However, we knew we couldn't stay in their for long so we began reconsidering our living arrangements. As much as I loved living in the city, I hated the lack of storage and privacy as a child, not to mention having to be quiet because of the neighbors when I lived in an apartment. I lived that once and didn't feel like repeating it when our son was born, even though the building my wife and I were living in was fairly kid friendly. So we went out to the suburbs and bought our house (it also helped that the cost of a 2 bedroom apartment in our old neighborhood cost the same as our 4 BR house in 2000) where the only people who complain about our children making noise in the house are my wife and myself. It's also nice to open the back door and throw them out into the yard in 2 seconds as opposed to the whole ordeal it was for my parents-- hallway, elevator, lobby, walk to playground -- to do the same, but that's another story.

Therefore, it was with great amusement and a reminder of why I moved out to Jersey to live near my wife's family in the first place, when I read the article in today's NY Times (and the comments on Fark, where the article was also listed) about couples raising noisy children in the city. As I read the article, I wondered how many of the parents grew up in apartments and weren't aware of the noise issues that little children make. I wonder how many of them thought how great to have a washer and dryer and a few good sized closets in their apartment without considering the neighbors.

The 1960s neighborhood in Queens I grew up in was full of young families when I was born. We lived in an apartment one floor above a childless couple, which is what my parents were before I came along. I was one of several children and we were quite noisy when young and not quite civilized. Not so noisy that my parents let us run around all amok, but noisy enough that one of my earliest memories was of my parents warning us to be quiet before the downstairs neighbors [bang bang bang] got their broomstick out.If we ran, we heard bang bang bang, If we walked loudly - bang, bang, bang. If our blocks fell -- bang, bang, bang. If we laughed at a cartoon too loud -- bang, bang, bang. She was the type of person who would go to a mid afternoon movie cartoon and complain there were children there.

We heard that broomstick so much we were convinced the wife was a witch. This was confirmed decades later when my mother was rushed to the hospital and her health aide left the stopper in the kitchen sink and didn't shut the water off all the way -- why the neighbor decided that then was a good time to tell my wife and sister in law what she really thought of my family while my brother and I were dealing with the beginning of our mother's final chapter. All, I can say, if she's reading this, is I'm so sorry my mother's illness caused her to miss her Cosmo that afternoon. Anyway, I digress.

At the time (1960s and 1970s) it was still fairly common for children to be living in my apartment building, plus the surrounding buildings , and we were a noisy lot playing in playgrounds and apartment building driveways, while having the nerve to ride bicycles in and around the neighborhood. Some neighbors complained but many, who grew up in even denser neighborhoods in Brooklyn did not, knowing that noise and chaos was part of city life. That seems to have changed over the 70s and 80s as the city's population declined.

The grumpy downstairs neighbors became the norm and not the exception. I think this took off as NYC schools continued their decline through the 70s and many of the children left for the suburbs; the local elementary school, so crowded at the start of the decade that the 6th grade had to rent classroom space in the local church and temple, had one floor, out of three, virtually empty by the end of the decade. As middle class childless apartment dwellers became the norm, at least in my neighborhood, many of the playgrounds were converted to sitting areas or parking lots. Heck, many of the buildings don't even allow dogs anymore, though my old building apparently still does (it doesn't help that many of the buildings were designed so that residents exit onto a walkway and not the street, making hard to curb a dog as it usually starts doing its business before you can actually get to the curb).

As an adult I can understand how annoying it is to have noise when you want quiet. I've also sat in on board meetings, as an adult, where parents of small children defended their running around by saying children will be children. To my parents' credit they never tried to justify our noise making to our neighbors, aside from apologizing for the noise. However, apartments equal noise and living with neighbors. Therefore, it was with the banging and arguing with neighbors in mind, that my wife and I chose to buy a house. I have to admit that I did find it quite liberating not to have to cover 80% of our hardwood floors with carpeting or furniture.

Now, about a decade later, as NYC has once again become a desirable place to raise a family, and the costs of buying a house is still out of reach for younger families, the issues my parents faced have come back. As fuel prices continue to rise, and living in a private home becomes less desirable, this situation will probably increase even further. So unless home sweet apartments an adult only building, such as a senior building, New Yorkers are going to have to get over it.

M.Y.O.B.

In my town, someone with an ax to grind, apparently, is posting some negative stuff regarding the volunteer fire department. That is his or her right. Some of the stuff might border on libel, but I'll let the lawyers deal with if I wish. However this poster, in apparent seriousness, is trying to argue that some of those on the volunteer fire department should be kicked off on morals clauses. Now if the morals clauses were along the lines of drunk firefighting, I could understand it, but this person was using the allegation that a firefighter might be having an affair as the reason that person is unfit to serve.

I hope he is not serious because that is one of the more asinine things I have ever heard. If my house is on fire and my children need to be rescued, the only thing I care about is whether the firefighter is able to save my children. Ultimately that s all that matters

The poster, however, tried to defend his point by noting that volunteers and public employees who work with children go through background checks and are held to moral clauses.I suppose you can argue that someone who deals with children on a regular basis should be held to a higher standard, but frankly, as long as coaches, for example, don't drink, curse etc in my child's presence I really don't care what they do in their off time. I don't care if they are liberal or conservative, gay or straight, like to drink alone, look at porn and anything else legal that the moral police might find offensive when they are on their own time; it's none of my business.

This is a fairly diverse community with a large variety of views on what is or is not morally offensive. Some have no trouble looking at near naked women at the beach, others won't even shake hands with a member of the opposite sex because their religion forbids it. That is their business, not ours. While I think I might question a drunk EMS worker driving me to the hospital, I really don't care if he or she is an adulterer.

Sinful government

Our government has been sinful. No, not for legalizing homosexual marriage. It's been sinful for the way we've treated our wounded (and not wounded too) war veterans. Dedicating a new Walter Reed hospital is a step in the right direction, but our sins, and they are ours since we're a government of the people (technically), go further than that.

These people have put their lives on hold for us. They lose their homes and we're ok with it. They lose their health and we're ok with it. They lose their work, either through being laid off or losing the ability to work and we're ok with it. They lose their lives and we're ok with it. Shouldn't we be not ok with it? These folks have made huge sacrifices and we all care about are rising gas prices, taxes and whether A-Rod is dating Madonna.

Granted, nearly 7 years after 9/11, these soldiers most likely knew what they were getting into when they signed up for service and how shabby we treat war veterans. Yet they made the sacrifice anyway. It seems to me that the least we as a nation can do is take care of these veterans upon their return home. Yes it will cost money but let's face it, we as a nation are rich enough to take care of them. We just need to find the selfless collective will we used to have. But it seems to me that providing veterans with an education or, if they are wounded, proper health care, is the least we can do to say thank you.

But yeah, let's waste our energy and resources gossiping about A-Rod, fighting gay marriage, analyzing to the nth degree what Imus said this time and whether Sirius and XM satellite radio can merge. That seems to be so much important to think about then the way we are giving the shaft to those who volunteered to help protect this country (whether you think fighting Iraq was wrong is moot, these kids did believe it was the right thing to do and are paying the price). Happy Independence Day.