Author: Dick

But, I’m Christie Brinkley can’t you just let me in for a little while?

With the approximate 19,600-some odd visits surfers have made to this blog since I started keeping count at some point in time, the “Visitor Path” function on my “StatCounter” page has allowed me to see who is interested in whatever subjects on which I have dwelled here. If only I knew why …

It isn’t with any great frequency, but I get visits it seems every month searching for young Stevi Perry, the beautiful Arkansas fashion I first mentioned in May 2005 while making fun of an article from a small-town newspaper. Apparently someone in Mountain Home, Arkansas, was wondering — from best I can tell around 8:14 Central Daylight Time last evening — what Stevi was up to.

It was somewhat of a surprise when Perry’s mother sent me a friendly e-mail shortly after that first mention.

“Hey, I typed Stevi’s name in and found where you noticed her article. That was pretty awesome…I am her mother. How did you find that article? You must be from somewhere around Arkansas. How wierd. That is pretty neat that you wrote something. Yeah, not much news in small towns.
Kelli Perry … “

Because of concerns over copyright violations (even more concerns than normal), I did not attempt to post a photo of the young beauty. But I did find a link with a picture and an update on her career, which includes news of Stevi who is to appear in an upcoming video with Cowboy Troy — who, for those of the clueless nature like me, is a “hick-hop” star. Whatever that is.

It’s always exciting when I can present something, at least halfway, useful. Good luck to Stevi and to Cowboy Troy. And good luck to Cowboy Troy’s horse, should he have one or more.

Among the many activities in which one unexpectedly participates during their lifetime includes the reading of biographies. Never did it cross my mind that someday I would read a biography of President-General Ulysses S. Grant.

Perhaps my inclination or disinclination toward reading about the Civil War hero and not-so-hot president is a holdover from my growing up Southern during a time that grandparents and even parents still held grudges about the war’s outcome. I never sensed my parents held a grudge against the Yankees so much as they were expected to harbor somewhat of a grudge. If I am not mistaken, my mother’s grandfather fought in the War Between the States so if there were some bad feelings toward the Union it was still rather fresh for some folks when I was growing up. Actually, I think the grudge was as much about Reconstruction for some Southerners rather than the Union kicking booty. But it’s all hoo-hah and it is what it is. I’m kind of glad it turned out the way it did if for no other reason the war was one of the few ventures in which Grant was a success, according to his biography, “Grant” by William S. “McTouchy” “McFeely.

Grant did well in the military but didn’t do so well outside of it. I know people like Grant in that respect. The military was their crowning glory. Or fill in the blank: police, firefighter, big man on campus, a strech in the joint, etc.

I don’t believe a picture exists of Grant in which he is smiling either. I got the impression he had depression and/or a drinking problem. It seems Ulysses would go off on a bender something a la Otis Campbell, the town drunk, who would let himself in and out of jail in the “Andy Griffith Show.” Of course, I wouldn’t expect Ulysses would have had such a set up as television was a ways off.

I spent the weekend at McFaddin Beach and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service cops who patrol the beach took notice of “Grant” in my front seat along with two other books. They were a bit nosy as police are at times. I supposed they were satisfied I wasn’t a Teddy Kaczynski sort, sitting around in the sun reading about Grant, and they bade me a good day.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed the reading I did this weekend, first finishing off H.W. Brand’s “Lone Star Nation.” It was a very good telling of the non-fantasy version of Texas fight for independence. It was the version that I never learned until taking Texas History in college under one of the state’s premier Texas historian’s, Dr. Archie McDonald, at Stephen F. Austin State U. in Nacogdoches, Texas. (Home of the Lumberjacks and we’re okay!)

McFeely’s work on Grant is not a very riveting read but it tells the story of a man who just didn’t seem to be happy very much. In a way, reading about Grant makes me feel better because I have had and occasionally still do have my happy moments despite being annoyed somewhat by depression at times. And, I also smile in some pictures of myself, even the one taken by my late friend Waldo of a crimson crease in the middle of my forehead due to the hammer of a .44 magnum pistol. I doubt that would have been something which would have encouraged Grant to smile in a picture.

Say cheese? No, say “Make my day.” Come to think of it, “Dirty Harry” movies probably would have made Grant smile. Or not.

If there is one thing to be said about the Department of Veterans Affairs medical system, it is that it will keep you on your toes. That is, provided you have toes or can keep those toes after being treated by the VA.

This morning I received notice of my long awaited appointment at the Parkinson’s Clinic in Houston. I’ve waited — more or less — a year for it. This morning I received a letter saying the appointment is on March 14. It is great that my appointment will be sooner than later. The only problem, which no longer exists, was a potential logistical snafu.

You see, I usually take a van provided by the VA and a veterans organization that goes from the Beaumont VA Clinic to Houston and back. That way I don’t burn my gasoline or put wear and tear on the Tacomamobile. Since only three or so vans exist, the seats get taken up quite quickly on a reserved basis. Luckily, one seat was left for me, I was informed after calling this morning.

I am not sure what they will do at the Parkinson’s Clinic to determine whether or not I have Parkinson’s. Maybe they will take me up in NASA’s “Vomit Comet” and see how I react once I return to earth. What that has to do with Parkinson’s is probably nothing, as I just made that up. Nonetheless, I may or may not have peace of mind knowing one way or the other if I do have Parkinson’s. We shall see what we shall see.

From the Funny Department this morning: Read what Prez Gee Dubya says about his bipartisan commission getting to the bottom of the problems in the country’s the military and VA hospital. Apparently co-chair Donna Shalala has what it takes to determine what is wrong with those charged with the health care of our veterans. According to Bushie, Shalala:

” … lived after eight years in President Clinton’s administration, she knows what to look for, she knows the questions to ask.”

I suppose the prez meant that contrary to Vince Foster who neither lived nor served that long under Clinton’s administration. Freudian slip? Or by Victoria’s Secret camisole? We report. You scratch your head and say: “Huh?”

Gee Dubya, not content having himself surrounded by soldiers in photos, goes after the next generation of American fighting men and women.

Another blue ribbon panel. That is the answer — be it from Republicans or Democrats. When something goes wrong, appoint a blue ribbon panel. Which is what our Buffoon-in-chief has done in response to the uproar over poor medical facilities and treatment of our Iraq veterans.

The last blue ribbon panel — a.k.a. the Iraq Study Group — which was chaired by James Baker and Lee Hamilton was really a worthwhile venture wasn’t it George? Now a new panel headed by Bob “Viagra” Dole and Donna “Sha-la-la” Shalala will take on the task of studying veterans health care in both Department of Defense and Department of Veterans Affairs medical facilities. Good luck and good night!

Studying hospitals and clinics in just one department would surely be a nightmare, but both of them? Please give me a break.

Dole is an honorable man, a war hero and has tried to do right on a number of issues. Shalala? I’m sure she did some good in her cabinet post under Clinton and most likely her family and friends love her. But rarely does a presidentially-appointed blue ribbon panel cut through all the red tape to separate the wheat from chaff and the semaphores from the metaphors. And talk about red tape? Both agencies are full of some of the biggest red tape dispensers known to modern man.

My experience with VA health care is more recent than that with DoD. The quality of that care varies from hospital-to-hospital and VA health care system to VA health care system. Here is a little VA 101 and how its medical system is set up:

The VA has almost two dozen health care networks called VISNs (pronounced “vision,” as in lack of). VISN means Veterans Integrated Service Network. VA health care in Texas is provided by more than one VISN. The one in Southeast Texas includes Louisiana and I think Mississippi VA hospitals. Look it up if you are that interested. The VISN I dealt with in Waco and in Dallas includes health care systems (the next level of bureaucracy)in North, Central and South Texas. Within each system are hospitals and clinics.

Now one would think that the VA is the VA. With each hospital and clinic you get the same type of medical care and certainly the same kind of medicine, right? Not right. Each health care system has its own quirks, rules and even medicines. You had Soma prescribed in Waco? Well, you won’t get it in Houston or Beaumont. You were prescribed Lisinopril in Beaumont? Well, you won’t get it in Dallas.

Such a patchwork of medicine delivery is just one of the major obstacles such an investigatory panel faces. Each medical facility will also prove to be a big chunk which has been torn off and cannot be chewed.

When I last left Beaumont, the VA Clinic here was, quite frankly, quite awful. It was hard to get appointments, to get doctors to return your calls about medicine, etc., etc. Then I moved to Dallas for awhile. Once called the worst VA hospital in the country, I’m sure the Dallas VA Hospital is still in the running for that title. So many problems there exist that Bob Dole would probably enter it for investigation in good health and leave under the sheets. One example:

One day I had a medical condition of which I was unsure was an emergency and whet her it required immediate care. I was living in Allen then, about 40 miles from the Dallas VA hospital. Fortunately, my condition didn’t require emergency care. But no thanks to the VA either way. I spent an hour on its so-called “Tele-care” phone line where a nurse can be consulted about medical issues, supposedly. After an hour of getting no answer on the Tele-care line or recordings at the Dallas hospital, I finally asked for the hospital director’s office. I told the secretary what was going on and she promised to transfer me to the appropriate place right away. Which she didn’t that time. But once I called her back, I finally got the head nurse. Bless her heart, she did help me and even called to check on me later.

On a positive note, since I have moved back to Beaumont, the VA clinic seems like someone flew in and strafed the facility with a load of positivity. Service there is much better than the last time I used it.

The VA has got some great people and it has some people who aren’t worth a hail of bullets, just as you would expect from any large bureaucracy. The only difference with the VA is that hundreds of thousands of lives are in the hands of this bureaucracy and the system or “systems” need a good going over. The VA also is in need of dedicated funding rather than by discretionary funds at the whim of Congress. And, we need to get our men and women out of Iraq as soon as possible so we don’t have so many new veterans to treat. Things are bad enough with dying World War II, Korean and Vietnam veterans.

If the blue ribbon panel is really going to do a fine-tooth-comb job on the military and VA health care, then I say: “Right on!” But history just isn’t on Bob’s and Donna’s side, and I just don’t think they will ever find a big enough comb.

I just finished writing something rather lengthy and then, the computer froze, causing me to reboot and lose what I had written. Did I ever mention that I hated the computers at the Beaumont Public Library?