Heroes?

 

In our knee-jerk reaction to emotional incidents throughout our lives, perspective can easily be swept to one side. This seems to be especially true with police officers. A friend recently posted this meme, that labels Sargent Paul Tuozzolo a “hero”.  Sgt Tuozzolo was shot and killed in the line of duty by a bad guy in Bronx, New York on Friday. Certainly I feel terrible for his family, but this "hero" label is used pretty loosely, much the same way we call too many musicians and actors “superstars”.  Unlike a lot of people in the military, Sgt Tuozzolo wasn't drafted. He applied for the job and was well aware that it involved risks. High risks. It's the 15th most dangerous job in the USA, but Is anyone who dies on a job that they knew was dangerous a hero? Did he jump in front of a friend and take a bullet for them? Did he intentionally sacrifice his own life to save others?  Did he do something above and beyond the job he was hired to do? If so, yes, he is a hero. Otherwise, he is a sad casualty of a highly risky profession, a profession which he chose to be his life’s work.  

When a police officer gets killed in the line of duty, whole communities stop and pay their respects, as they should, often referring to the death as a “tragedy”. But aren’t all unintentional deaths a tragedy? Cops are #15 on the list of “Most Dangerous Jobs in the USA”. What about trash collectors in the #5 spot? When a trash man gets run over in the street, does the whole community mourn? Do they support a funeral procession of 100 garbage trucks, lights on and all intersections opened by police so there is a continuous flow of traffic to the cemetery? After all, the trash guy was serving the community in his job too.

Don’t get me wrong. In no way am I “anti-cop”, hey, I’m glad they are out there and my hat is off to them. No way would I want to do what they do, but then I don’t want to be a trash collector either. Both chose their respective professions. The electrical power-line workers who restored our service after Hurricane Matthew a few weeks ago are #9 on the list. They pulled long hours to get us going again. Are they heroes or were they just doing a job that they know is dangerous and may occasionally demand very long hours to get power restored after a natural disaster?

Ours is a coastal town with many locals who work in fishing related industries. That’s listed as the #2 most dangerous job. When does the accidental death of a local fisherman get anything more than the standard obituary on page 5?

If cops are heroes for doing their jobs, so is the trash guy and so is the fisherman. Right?  

All of these deaths are tragedies, all are heroes, no one any more than another, but that’s not how we treat them in our communities.

Why is that?

Most Dangerous Jobs of 2014
2014 RANK OCCUPATION FATAL INJURIES PER 100,000 PEOPLE TOTAL DEATHS
1 Logging workers 110.9 78
2 Fishers and related fishing workers 80.8 22
3 Aircraft pilots and flight engineers 64 82
4 Roofers 47.4 83
5 Refuse and recyclable material collectors 35.8 27
6 Farmers, ranchers, and other agricultural managers 26.7 270
7 Structural iron and steel workers 25.2 15
8 Driver/sales workers and truck drivers 24.7 880
9 Electrical power-line installers and repairers 19.2 25
10 Taxi drivers and chauffeurs 18 68
11 First-line supervisors of construction trades and extraction workers 17.9 130
12 Construction laborers 16.9 208
13 First-line supervisors of landscaping, lawn service, and grounds keeping workers 16.4 33
14 Maintenance and repairs workers, general 14.4 68
15 Police and sheriff's patrol officers 13.5 97
16 Grounds maintenance workers 13.1 158
17 First-line supervisors of mechanics, installers, and repairers 12.3 38
18 Painters, construction and maintenance 10.8 46
19 Electricians 10.4 79
20 Telecommunications line installers and repairers 10 19

Instagram Starz...

Hannah’s Instagram account just passed 161,000 followers, 60,000 of those are new this month. She and Pablo are experiencing remarkable growth; advertisers and sponsors are beginning to beat a path to their door.

“Social media is the intersection of tech and culture. Instagram happens to be the fastest growing social media site at the moment with over 400 million users.”

Now to put that into perspective, the most followed human on earth right now is Selena Gomez. Gomez is followed by 69.7 million people, which is more than the entire population of France. Right after her are people like Taylor Swift, Beyonce, Ariana Grande, and yes, Kim Kardashian.

Other pop stars, rappers, and famous athletes make the “top 100” list as do all the rest of the Jenner’s and Kardashians. Certainly that tells us something about our culture and who we admire, at least the young people anyway. But if you’re looking for a little more depth, more substance, take comfort in knowing that National Geographic’s Instagram account weighs in at #10.

Cara Devlinge and Zendaya are in the top 26 but I have no idea who they are.

So maybe having 161,000 followers isn’t exactly earth shattering when you look at it that way, but I can’t help being proud of the fact that there are so many people who want to follow a positive example of health, fitness, and balance. Over 200 newbies every hour of the day, 24-7.

High five to Hannah and Pablo. They kick ass.

Hannah always has.

https://www.instagram.com/gypsyon__/

Put a Lid on It...

I’ve done this before, asked my Facebook peeps for your hat preferences, but feedback last time was minimal. I think I offered too many choices…or maybe, people just didn’t give a shit and kept scrolling down, looking for something more interesting. I understand, that’s what I did when I first saw my own post.

Let’s keep it simple. This time there are only two hat choices: A or B? Which one should I try to wear out in public before I rip it off and throw it into a closet for another year? One year from now just I’ll repost my query when Facebook pushes me with their “One Year Ago” prompt
.
But if the vote is clear this time, I won’t post this again. It’s no big corundum, simply pick hat A or B. What say you?

You see, the real problem here, is that I don’t wear hats. Ever. Truth is, I hate hats. But I’m hating baldness even more these days. I feel self-conscious about strutting around sporting a head that looks like a penis with a face.

So maybe I’ll break down and put on a hat, even if doing so causes me extreme hat rage, which it does.  I start to scream inside, doing my best to suppress the urge to cut someone with a sharp object and lap their blood dispassionately like a bored domestic cat. Hats do that to me. But this bald thing? Now that really pisses me off and I think maybe it would be best for everyone if I learn how to put a lid on it.

What’s your pick, A or B?

(BTW, that thing I'm doing with my mouth? That's a warm smile.)  

Where Do Bumblebees Sleep?

Stop worrying yourself silly. Biting your cuticles bloody and missing sleep at night is no way to live. You look like a cast member of “The Living Dead” clutching your morning coffee. It's not healthy for you to spend all your time worrying about where bumblebees sleep!

So I’ll tell you right now and we’ll put an end to this thing.

Most of them sleep in nests. Small nests that can be anywhere: an abandoned birds nest, in the woodpile next to the back stairs, maybe under the wet couch out on the porch next to that rusted old Pepsi cooler you've been planning  to renovate for over three years. 

But not these guys. There are rogues out there.Those are the manly bumblebees. They live outside the nest, often falling asleep right at dinner when the sun starts to go down and cooler air causes their wing muscles to slow. In late summer, they’ll sleep on the last flower they landed on the night before, much like my old roommate in college.

As the sun comes back up again, still groggy from drinking too much nectar, they may stumble around a bit and wonder what the hell happened to them last night.  Pet them if you want, they almost never sting. Soon enough though, after a few good shoulder shrugs and push-ups, they are ready to do it all over again.

Lifting slowly from their brightly colored launch pads, they resemble heavy dirigibles more than real flying machines. Then a light breeze helps to lift them and off they go, already thinking about another party tonight, and a belly full of nectar.

Hurricane Matthew, Gone But Not forgotten...

 

Now that Matthew is no longer huffing, puffing and trying to blow our doors down, we’ve returned to sunny tranquility.

Cool and breezy with a welcome nip. 

As is often the case with insensitive thugs, Matthew left a mess behind. Too many houses fill the street with their water-damaged first floor possessions thrown unceremoniously into piles, ready for a ride to the dump. Long serpentine piles of reeds and trash mark high water flood lines. Beaches are littered with large clumps of vegetation, wave smashed tumbleweeds held together with fishing line, clutching bits of broken Styrofoam.

We were lucky, just a bit of roof damage, now marked 24/7 by two blowers drying the damp ceiling plywood while a refrigerator sized dehumidifier sucks water from the air and sends it down a clear hose that runs out the doggie door and into the yard.

It’s business as usual for us again. An omelet stuffed with fresh spinach and sharp American with a cup of very black Colombian coffee was on the breakfast menu for me. Chica and Rufus got bits of cheap hot dog, torn off and lobbed in high arcs, testing their catching and sitting skills.

We all took a walk, spotting a Great Blue Heron as he caught his breakfast sashimi in the lake shallows. A pair of Anhingas swam undetected beneath the dark surface of the lake, heads and necks breaching suddenly like snakes looking for heaven to save them from electrified waters. Apparently my favorite Garden spider weathered the storm. She was back this morning for the first time, perched in the center of a new web, anchored among the Cattails, also enjoying breakfast in the sun, rhythmically sucking the life-juice from a fat web-encased fly, that certainly should have chosen the road not taken.

Edged Weapons...

Edged Weapons. Even the name captivates me. My fascination has been primal and organic for as long as I can remember. It was my junior year in high school when my parents went to Europe on a cruise with friends and asked what I wanted them to bring back as a present for being a good boy in their absence and staying out of jail. My only request was for an Italian switch blade knife. You’ve seen them a thousand times in cheesy gangster movies, all shiny pointed blades that jump out of their frames with the push of a button. They’re crappy knives, cheap as hell, but they were the gold standard for “sinister” back in the day. “No way” was my mother’s first reaction to my request, but my irritating promotion of the idea teamed up with her considerable guilt at not taking me along, got me what I wanted. 

Of course, Mom was afraid, despite my constant reassurances that I would lock it away and never even look at it, someone would get stabbed. She was right. I was that someone. My dear older brother, Kenny, borrowed my switchblade and stuffed it down his back pocket just prior to deciding to see for the 1,000th time if there was any way in hell that I could out-wrestle him. I never initiated those matches, simply doing my best to survive. He always won, but that particular time it was by stabbing me. Unintentionally, yes, but the blade buried itself about two inches into my right thigh when the push button got pressed during my desperate contortions, sad attempts to get the fuck out of some kind of sleeper hold.

Mom found out and smashed that particular knife on the garage floor with a sledgehammer the next afternoon. Thanks, Kenny. You penis head.

These days, it’s all about utility for me. Jeweled knives with gold inlays that are more works of the jeweler’s art than down and dirty fighters, leave me cold. From spears to fixed blades, long knives or close fighters, I look for great steel, heat treated and cryogenically processed, with embraceable, practical designs. Tactical folders are my favorites, with automatics at the top of the list.  

Thirty years ago when I first started a serious collection, custom knives were kings. “Production” or “manufactured” knives were still too crude and old-school to stand out. They were stuck in a time warp, doing the same things that they always had done with little innovation. That stagnancy gave rise to the custom makers who did everything themselves from design to assembly. Tolerances were tight, scales fit frames with the closest precision, blades deployed with the quality of the opening and closing of the door on a Ferrari 458.

As with cars themselves, manufacturing techniques evolved. Now, with laser cut blades and frames, carbon fiber and other sophisticated materials, manufactured knives offer the same great quality as custom, at a quarter of the price. See that knife on the far left? It’s new. Designed by my favorite custom maker, Alan Elishewitz, but produced in a collaboration with a high-end manufacturer, Hogue Knives. A 5" folder with a black finish G-Mascus red lava G10 frame, perfectly fitted to a 154CM Stainless Steel upswept blade that has been Cryogenically treated and bathed in an extremely durable, non-reflective, black Certakote. It’s a total thing of beauty, flawless and sharp as hell, that would cost every bit of $1,200. from Alan himself but is less than a quarter of that from Hogue Knives.

I know I said that automatics are my favorites, but now I’m thinking about one-handed openers, and some sweet neck and ankle knives I have. Oh well, they can wait until the next “show and tell”. The bottom line is that as is true with so many things that evolve, personal use tactical knives have come a long way, baby.

Hannah Time

We all love our kids, why wouldn’t we? Hopefully, they represent the best we had to offer as parents. We can claim a bit of ownership to wash down with our dose of pride.

Hannah is visiting right now. I used to say that spending time with her was like being sealed in a jar with a beautiful hornet. Colorful and scary. But, to my surprise, she has changed a bit, focused her energy. She brought Pablo, I was eager to meet him. When I had asked Ruth about this guy that Hannah was making good sounds about, for the first time in her life, Ruth told me that he was” “kind of quiet, very smart, and sweet” That sounded good to me, and I was just glad that apparently Hannah hadn’t done a Black Widow thing and eaten his head after mating.

There is a phone call I particularly remember Hannah taking when she was about 14 or so. Some unwitting, innocent boy called to ask her out to a concert or an event of some kind. All I got was her side of the conversation, of course, but it didn’t allow for much feedback from the other end of the line. She said: “If I want to go to that fucking concert, or any fucking concert, I certainly don’t need anyone to “take me” anywhere. I can take myself.” Then she promptly hung up on the poor guy. For years she seemed to think that men are pond scum, and I couldn’t really disagree. I kind of thought: “So what’s your point?” Now, at age 29, she loves nesting, being back in the States for the first time in 8 years, living in San Diego, and having a great friend, lover, and base who is happy to take instructions from a bossy flier. 

As in their relationship, Pablo is her “base” in their Acroyoga practice, Hannah is the “bossy flier” and I wouldn’t expect anything less. Credentialed in many different forms of yoga, and Acroyoga which is a combination of yoga and acrobatics Hannah is passionate about her practice, spending many hours with it every day.   On Instagram., she offers insightful tips and lifestyle choices, along with, videos, and stills. Some 150,000 followers currently help her build her brand, but that number is growing by some 10,000/month. Savvy companies promote their products, in this case yoga and health stuff, by giving their products to Instagram personalities with a substantial following. All her yoga gear and most of her clothing is free, sent to her with the hope that she will plug it if she likes it. Hannah has started to push the numbers, recognizing the fact that higher numbers mean bigger rewards. Three days ago one of her videos went viral in Russia of all palaces, enhanced with Russian subtitles and racking up at last count, well over a million views.

I’m impressed, but you know what? I all of us that are parents or grandparents, are impressed by the kids, that’s just the way it works. Oh, and when they are grown and come for a visit, we shut out almost everything else in our world and focus on them with an intensity and clarity that very likely escaped us when they were young.

I’m so happy to have some Hannah time. I know you understand.