I’ve been here before.  About 20 years ago my right wrist started to hurt when I used the mouse on my PC.  Drugs and wrist supports didn’t help, so I just started using the mouse with my left hand.  I got really good at left handed mousing and after a few years the condition went away.  I’d already come to the conclusion that if I stopped aggravating the situation my elbow would eventually heal on its own.  My doctor diagnosed it as tennis elbow, a tendon overuse injury, confirming my suspicions.

I remembered reading about therapeutic purring elsewhere.  Google shows about 762,000 hits when you search on healing properties of purring.

For example, from an article titled The Felid Purr: A bio-mechanical healing mechanism found at the Fauna Communications Research Institute site:

The dominant and fundamental frequency for three species of cats’ purrs is exactly 25 Hz, or 50 Hz the best frequencies for bone growth and fracture healing. All of the cats purrs all fall well within the 20 – 50 Hz anabolic range, and extend up to 140 Hz..

All the cats, except the cheetah have a dominant or strong harmonic at 50 Hz.The harmonics of three cat species fall exactly on or within 2 points of 120 Hz which has been found to repair tendons.

One species within 3 Hz and one within 7 Hz.Eighteen to thirty-five Hz is used in therapeutic bio-mechanical stimulation for joint mobility. Considering the small size of many of these cats, especially the domestic cats, it is interesting to note that that all of the individual cats, have dominant frequencies within this range. In fact, some of the cats, have 2-3 harmonics in this range.

The frequencies for therapeutic pain relief are from 50-150 Hz. All of the individual cats have at least 5 sets of strong harmonics in this range.

It occurred to me, I live with a bio-mechanical healing mechanism.

Rufus has some annoying habits, but he has some good qualities, too.  He like to cuddle and is a purring machine.  He sleeps with me every night, starting at my side and migrating down to my ankles after I fall asleep.  It was a simple proposition to maneuver my right elbow under him for a little while each night so the buzzing was applied directly to the desired area.

The improvement in my elbow was quite dramatic.  Within a week or so my arm regained its full range of motion and the pain was almost completely gone.  It would be cool to attribute this all to Rufus, but I had also stopped performing the actions that I believed led to the condition in the first place and I had a pretty mild case.  Then too, I’m a firm believer in the placebo effect (or purrcebo effect?) and Rufus purring at the site of the discomfort was quite soothing.

Whether or not there is actually something to this, I have a lot of fun watching people edge away from me when I start talking about the healing properties of my cat.  My next experiment will determine the efficacy of a properly applied bio-mechanical healing mechanism on gout.

- Poppa

I’m short.  I’m a “single digit midget.”  I suspect that my co-workers are finding me insufferable.  I’m pretty sure I’d find myself insufferable if I were someone else. I can’t keep myself from talking about retirement at every opportunity.

I’m at the “I love you, man!” level on the Electro Euphoria Reckoner.  Experience tells me this won’t last, not at this level anyway.  That’s a good thing. I wouldn’t want to feel like this all the time, I’m pretty sure I’d fry my brain.

I’m wondering, will I still enjoy the weekends when it’s the weekend all week?  I’m wondering, do I need to spend time in a cage to appreciate freedom?  I’ll know soon.

- Poppa

This is both exciting and terrifying.  It may be the best thing I’ve ever done, or the stupidest move I’ve ever made.  Most likely it’s somewhere on the continuum between those extremes.  I hope it’s closer to the “best” extreme, not the “stupid” extreme.  I expect it will drift back and forth at times.

Most of my life I’ve organized my days around what parents, teachers, or employers wanted me to do.  There was a short time in the early ’70s when I just let go, when I did whatever I wanted.  What I wanted then consisted of sleeping until noon, eating meals someone else prepared for me, watching TV, reading books I wanted to read, engaging in the sexual revolution, partying until I collapsed, then doing it all over again the next day.  That pretty much sums up my last two semesters of college.  I stopped going to classes after the first week and lived like I was at some cut-rate Midwestern Club Med (Club Ed?) where the meals consisted of cheap hamburgers and spaghetti, the unairconditioned rooms had uncomfortable single beds, and the beaches were abandoned gravel pits.

After I nose-dived out of the educational system I had intermittent periods of joyful idleness between jobs when I was living in Ames and Des Moines.  I was sharing houses with friends, playing Risk until 7 AM, sleeping ’til 3 PM, getting up and going to get pancakes at Sambo’s (a restaurant chain destroyed by its politically incorrect name), engaging in the sexual revolution, partying until I collapsed, then doing it all over again the next day.  I’d work at a crappy job until I got bored or couldn’t stand the conditions anymore, quit, and take a month or so off.  When the money ran out or I got tired of doing nothing, which fortunately always seemed to happen about the same time, I’d get another crappy job in a fast food joint, a slaughterhouse, or someplace equally smelly, dirty, and unpleasant.

A common factor in these experiences was the knowledge that what I was doing was not only incredibly irresponsible but completely unsustainable.  Two things brought me out of this spiral: the Good Job and the Good Woman.  The Good Job was at Rockwell.  It didn’t smell bad, it didn’t get me dirty, and it was interesting work.  The Good Woman was Nan, someone I didn’t (and still don’t) want to disappoint.  The end result was 37 years of work I could be proud of with Rockwell/Boeing, a benefit package that no longer exists for people starting with the company today, and savings fed by both of us but nurtured by Nan.  In theory, idleness should now be fiscally sustainable.  But is it still irresponsible?  And what of emotional sustainability?

The knee-jerk reaction of some people who hear me say I’m about to retire is, “Boring!”  Some of this is no doubt due to my flip response when asked what I’m going to do afterwards, “Sleep ’til I’m hungry and eat ’til I’m tired.”  But even without that, plenty of people think life without employment or work is meaningless.  To some extent, I agree.  As always, it depends on how the terms are defined, in this case “employment” and “work.”

This may come as a shock to those who know me, but all my life I’ve loved hard work and learning.  My personal tragedy is that the things I’ve been interested in learning and working at have rarely coincided with the things my parents, teachers, and employers have wanted me to learn and work at.  I view retirement not as a chance to do nothing, but as a chance to do what I want to do when I want to do it.  Some days that may involve sleeping ’til I’m hungry and eating ’til I’m tired.  But I expect those days will be the exception, not the rule.  We’ll see.  At any rate, I can’t sleep much past 9 AM any more, the sexual revolution has been won (and we’re living with the consequences, good and bad), and partying every night has gotten boring.

I have a pretty good idea of how I’m going to be employed.  It won’t involve a paycheck, however.

I have several writing projects under way.  I’m going to look for yoga and/or tai chi classes.  I’m going to sit zazen again for a while and see where that goes.  I’m going to walk (there will be a carrot, not a stick).  I’m going to learn to cook gumbo and braciole and I will master the frying of potatoes.

It’s going to be interesting.

I think.

- Poppa

We both liked The Passage a lot, which is unusual since we very rarely appreciate the same books.  In fact, we liked it so much that, even though we’d both read the library’s copy, Nan went out and bought a copy for the inevitable re-read.

Justin is an immensely likable guy, full of mirth and passionate about writing.  He signed our copy with a quote from the book, “All eyes,” the motto/watchword of the First Colony Watch.

One of the articles about his visit to Maryville mentioned that the 1949 novel Earth Abides had an influence on him.  I read it in the 70s and it was one of the most memorable of the many post-apocalyptic novels I read as a lad (and I read all I could find).  I pulled my old copy from the shelves; I thought it would be a kick if I could get him to sign it, not as the author obviously, but as someone else who’d read it. I don’t remember ever meeting anybody else who was aware of it, but apparently it’s well thought of in literary circles.

There was a Q&A session after his talk.  He finished his prepared statements with a reading from The Passage.  He read  a pretty intense excerpt and it was hard to get the crowd to come out of their spell and ask some questions.  I grabbed the old book and joined the line, thinking I’d ask him if he would be willing to inscribe “I, Justin Cronin, have also read this book” on the title page.  When I got to the microphone and held it up, he recognized the cover as the same one he had on his bookshelf.  His eyes lit up and he waxed enthusiastic about the book, describing it as the precursor to the Life After Humans mini-wave of books and documentaries that have popped up in the last few years.

The talk was being recorded by HEC-TV, but the video is no longer available on their website.

- Poppa

Besides, this blog has more visitors.

- Poppa

We sat front row center.  New Line does small, intimate productions, so we were up close and personal with the performers; during And the Money Kept Rolling In, Eva handed 1,000 Peso notes to us (I kept mine).  The live music was great and the cast was splendid.

Todd Schaefer (Juan Perón), Taylor Pietz (Eva Perón), and John Sparger (Ché)
from the New Line Theatre production of Evita
Photo credit: Jill Ritter Lindberg

The main focus was on the three principles, but the two smaller named roles were memorable, Terrie Carolan, credited as Perón’s mistress, had a heart-melting solo in Another Suitcase in Another Hall and Zachary Allen Farmer, whom we’ve enjoyed before as Barry in High Fidelity and Prospero in Return to the Forbidden Planet, was a lot of fun as Magaldi, a macho tango singer who’s surprised to find himself being used and tossed aside by his one night stand (Eva) when his usefulness is over; he’s supposed to be the user, not the usee.

John Sparger as Ché is a world-class sneer-er and provides the narration, giving the audience a critical view of Eva, questioning her commitment to her people and her stated ideals.  Every now and then, though, some tenderness for Eva seems to leak through.  He also waltzes pretty well in combat boots.  Todd Schaefer as Juan Perón has a powerful stage presence and convinced me he felt both romantic and paternal love for Eva, a woman young enough to be his daughter.

Eva, of course, is the central figure and Taylor Pietz carries the part well, she has a powerful voice and was able to portray Eva as the complicated person she was, willing to do what ever it took to get to the top, and once she got there, do great good and (possibly) great evil all while indulging herself in the name of the people (“I came from the people. they need to adore me. So Christian Dior me”) while at the same time expressing her disdain for the affluent of Argentinian society (“SCREW the middle classes”).

The rest of the company moved effortlessly back and forth between soldiers, spurned lovers, upper-crust snobs, and the Argentinian hoi polloi.  I didn’t spot a false note among them no matter what they were called upon to play.  Some of the faces were familiar from other New Line productions.

Scott Miller has provided background for several of the plays he’s directed and his analysis on Evita was insightful and informative.  In fact, it was so good I forgive him for using “Brechtian” four times without bothering to explain it to the non-theater majors in his reading audience.

I’ve always appreciated Evita for presenting us with a complex character and not falling into the trap of telling the audience whether she’s good or bad.  The demagogues from either side of our political camps never tire of trying to convince us that their opponents are Evil with a capital E.  They present us with TV versions of good and evil and expect us to believe people are one or the other.  This is not consistent with my reality.  People are usually both.

Tomorrow, July 26th, is my birthday.  Eva Perón died on July 26, 1952.  I was born on July 26, 1952.  She passed from this plane just as I was entering it.

Farewell, Evita.

- Poppa

A family tradition.  Upper left, me on Uncle Hugo’s Farmall B in the fifties.  Upper center and right, the whole family on the same Farmall in 1983.  Bottom, me on the Farmall in 2010.

- Poppa

Went to my 40th High School reunion last weekend and got access to my old high school building to take some pictures.  The building was unchanged, at least in the hallways; there were computers in the classrooms.

Ours was the last high school class to graduate from this building.  It’s been the Middle School for the last 40 years.  Now Algona is building a new middle school and the fate of the old building is uncertain.

The picture of the old AHS central hall was modified using Photomatix.

- Poppa

A B-25 WWII Bomber

Wing Walker

AeroShell Team

The world’s only privately-owned Royal Navy Sea Harrier

- Poppa