Ode to a pair of flip-flops

One may only imagine the rush of disappointment materializing after Googling or Yahooing or Binging and finding a blog with “Feet” in the title on which nothing appears exhibiting the slightest association with the foot.

Ahhh, the comfort. Like they're not there at all. Wait!!! They're not!

Although I am too lazy to count, I doubt very many posts during the past five years of this blog’s existence had to do with feet. Quite a few missives have presented quality examples of “foot-in-mouth,” as in someone — a politician or even me — putting their foot into their mouth. That isn’t to be taken literally, of course. Finding such flexibility requires an often exhaustive search.

So, if one has any interest whatsoever in feet, today is your day on my blog. Perhaps I overstate a bit. Today is the day I write a little bit concerning feet, footwear to be precise, sandals to be even more accurate.

Over the years I have become quite the fan of the flip-flop. Please, no jokes about John Kerry or any of the other many politicians who say they are for something before they are against it, or vice versa. In fact, I wore flip-flops before flip-flops were cool. That is even before Jimmy Buffett “blew out his flip-flop” in “Margaritaville.” Mostly what I wore back then were actually known as “shower shoes.” They were issued in Navy boot camp to prevent various diseases of the foot where groups of men showered. I continued wearing them throughout the Navy and quite awhile beyond until the same type of shoe became acceptable for outdoor wear.

Books I have read about the Vietnam War indicated North Vietnamese soldiers hiked for hundreds of miles with supplies while wearing flip-flops and other sandals made from tire tread. I don’t know if that is true or not. As is often the case with tales in general, some stories from wartime are told so much that they are taken as fact even if they started out as fiction or exaggeration. It is more than plausible though and a good reason to think a pair of good flip-flops made of sturdy material might prove to be durable footwear.

The summer and fall I took some post-graduate courses I would be chided by friends sometimes for playing hours of volleyball in my flip-flops. But hey, even though I might jump out of my sandals when I went up for a hit I would get the job done.

I have practically lived in flip-flops since my “retirement” five years ago. I speak of the time I have worked part-time while attempting to make money — a “living” would be a stretch — as a freelance writer. This does not include the time when I go off and do my part-time thing, when I have been out on a writing assignment or some other occasion requiring long pants such as freezing-a** weather. But other than that, yes, I have gone through some pairs of flip-flops such as the ones pictured on this page.

The wear has increased on my “flops” with the combination of my very sparse use of my walking and hiking shoes since I developed both foot neuropathy from diabetes and extreme lower back pain which may be pinched nerves from protruding disks or something completely different, as Monty Python used to say.

In the picture are a pair of Stone Creek flip-flops I bought at Academy. This is my second pair of this particular style. I also have two other pair of flip-flops, one made with leather and the other just a relatively cheap pair. If you notice the wear, on the pictured Stone Creek pair, one might assume they are comfortable. One might be right. Sometimes they feel as if they are not there. And sometimes, they’re not!

Combining the comfort with almost omnipresent numbness on the soles of my feet from neuropathy, it can sometime be difficult to tell whether they are there. I have had to ride miles and miles before to find one of my flops because I didn’t feel my foot coming out of it when I got inside an auto.

My nurses at the VA fuss at me for wearing flip-flops since I have diabetes. They are afraid I might hit something or step on something which could turn into an infection. I appreciate their concern. But a person has to have a little comfort in their lives. Flops are mine.

Something to ponder during the listeria outbreak

Reading about the current deadly listeria outbreak that may have killed as many as 16 in the U.S. so far reminds me of visits to Third-World countries when I was a young sailor.

My shipmates and I during port visits in places like Subic Bay and Jakarta would get — and I know this might be hard to believe — two-to-three sheets to the wind and seek out some late-night food before heading back to the ship. Often the chow would be something barbecued on a stick — like monkey or pork or don’t ask, don’t care. This was despite all the warnings we got about food safety while visiting foreign countries. What can I say? At least we were drinking beer and not the water.

I never got sick once from eating the local food on my seven-month deployment. I got sick as a dog from a Hickory Farms ham my folks sent me. It’s best I don’t describe the illness because just the description alone might leave you with one of the symptoms I experienced. Eeeeee! Fortunately, the illness only struck me overnight. I suppose the toxins found no safe haven to hide once my body completed expelling everything from everywhere.

Perhaps the fact that I was 21 or 22 years old helped stave off the food-borne-illness-on-a-stick I may have otherwise experienced on those late night din-dins on Magsaysay Drive in OIangapo or wherever the hell I was in Jakarta.

Nowadays I might not fare so well at 55 and sporting a few bodily glitches, with either foreign street food or even something from the tasty samples in my local supermarket.

The outbreak from listeria is the worst such “multi-state” food-borne illness in quite awhile. Even though the CDC knows the origin — the cantaloupes from Jensen Farms in Holly, Colo., — the agency has not yet discovered or released what caused the outbreak. There are a number of possible reasons for the disease just as a myriad of foods can carry the illness.

I spent about five years reporting on and writing about water pollution caused by large dairy farms. Now, I can’t say with certainty that I know if any of those farms ever caused listeria. The big issue with which I was tasked to write so much about cow crap was nutrients — phosphorus in particular — fed to the cattle. Heavy rains and the use of manure as fertilizer contributed to runoff that fueled spectacular algal growth downstream. This could cause all kinds of problems for cities that got their water from this particular river. The water tasted like crap, figuratively speaking.

Such pollution can cause listeria. It is not the only cause. And it isn’t a simple issue with a simple solution. Dairy farmers today, as is the case with other types of food production, are wrapped up in “economics of scale.” That means in the simplest and crudest of explanations, that certain factors cause a producer’s average cost per unit to fall as the scale of output is increased. In dairy farming or beef production, one needs more animals to survive in the marketplace. But there is only so much space for such large-scale production so an assembly-line type operation becomes necessary. Hence the pejorative term used by environmental activists “factory farming.”

Now I like milk and milk products. I am crazy about cheeses. Oh how I love cheeses. But I probably should go easy on cheese and I’ve never been a great milk drinker. I use non-fat milk for my cereal. Every now and then I like a well-crafted (by me) White Russian. Of course, even though milk gives the drink its name it is the vodka that makes it an adult beverage and the Kahlúa which provides the taste. That said, the sometimes humorous and sometimes heart-tugging California dairy farmer TV commercials give me heartburn.

The image of the pastoral setting for the contented dairy cow and the good wholesome Anglo-American farmers who proclaim their dairy is a “family farm” is more often than not, a misleading picture. The dairy industry certainly isn’t spending the big loot on these TV spots for fun. Big dairies seem to leave a wake of pollution battles everywhere they go.

It is very, very difficult to compete in the dairy business without a whole bunch, hundreds, of cows. Sure, these farms are owned by families most of the time but the business model includes large-scale cooperatives and some dairies are even owned by large corporations.

Listeria is just one of the diseases that can be spread by today’s big-time farming. I’m not saying it caused this outbreak. We don’t know the answer to that  yet. I certainly don’t do the bidding for PETA or vegans, even though they have their right to their opinions. I like meat. It’s good to eat. As is its byproducts. Nevertheless, water pollution endangers lives of people: you, your kids, your grandkids even your cows and favorite cow dog. If you are anti-government that’s fine. But this is a problem that doesn’t appear it will be solved in the market place. That is, unless your solution is for most of your customers to die.

SE Texas-based Jason’s Deli tops Zagat health category

That I ordered a sandwich today at Jason’s Deli — at the Original, as in first-ever Jason’s Deli — had nothing to do with the Beaumont, Texas,-based restaurant outfit being named by the Zagat consumer survey as best large chain with healthy options. In fact, it was downright depressing when I later looked up the “New York Yankee,” the sandwich I ordered, on the company’s online nutrition chart. I nearly fell out of my chair when I discovered the tasty pastrami and beef on rye carried with it a whopping 69 grams of fat and 1,189 calories. Thank goodness I have started eating Healthy Choice frozen dinners at night lately.

Billed as the “Gastronomic Bible” by The Wall Street Journal and its own PR people as “the world’s most trusted source for consumer generated survey information,” Zagat released its annual fast food survey today.

I try to choose from the much lighter Jason’s menu but light gets old in a hurry. Plus, I’m a Jason’s junkie. Having a great deli company like that based in your neighborhood is good okay, kind of like wicked fine only mo’ better.

Subway won that same category in the “mega-chain” group. The ‘way is, of course, famous for its different sandwiches under 10 grams of fat and which made Jared skinny. I eat at Subway too. However, Jason’s offer more than just sandwiches. Probably my favorite Jason’s is the “Quarter Muff Special” which includes a quarter muffuletta that is about the size of a double-meat Whopper and includes chips (I go for the Baked Lays), a pickle and a cup of soup. My soup “cup” of choice is actually a spicy and delicious seafood gumbo.

Likewise, Jason’s has breakfast items which I have yet to taste in the 15 years I have dined at the chain. They have one of the best salad bars to be found anywhere. Regardless of whether I eat at the salad bar or order something else I usually pickup about a handful of assorted nuts from their salad bar. J’s Deli also features all types of wraps and spuds and soups, as I’ve mentioned. I love their Black Currant Tea although they have several other types as well of other refreshments. I suppose they still sell beer at the original Beaumont stores but I am not certain. I haven’t noticed for a long time. Since lines tend to get long at both their Dowlen Road location and the original at Gateway Shopping Center off South 11th, it is quite handy they have a kiosk where you can use your credit card to get a salad bar order. Just step ahead of the crowd, place your order, swipe your card and get a big bowl from the counter.

A Jason’s Deli meal most times averages around $10 if you have a drink with it. Closer to $8 if you only want some iced water. Even though I think their tea is unmatched in most places, at least in this part of the country, I still think $2 is a little steep. Of course, you can refill and the dilligent and most times smiling Jason’s folks will cheerfully hand you a “go cup,” which is very useful in these scorching Texas days we have had lately.

I have to say I can’t agree with a lot of other Zagat survey choices. The news release announcing their survey gives the particulars:

 “This year’s survey covers 103 chains as voted on by 6,064 diners. The typical surveyor dined at a fast food restaurant at least once a week. They weighed in on everything from breakfast to burgers and fries to frozen yogurt, separately rating each chain on the quality of its Food, Facilities and Service on Zagat’s signature 30-point scale as well as ranking their favorites.”

Still, some of those joints they weighed in on — some of which I may visit every now and then — are kind of baffling. I get the popularity contest of the top five mega chains, 1st to last, Subway, McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Burger King, Taco Bell. The top “overall” ratings which include service, food and facilities for mega-chains are 1. Wendy’s 2. Subway 3. McDonald’s 4. Pizza Hut 5. KFC. That, my friends, is truly mind-blowing.

The survey did unveil some clever comments from the respondents and some appear as if they might land pretty much on the mark for some spots:

  • Rule #1: don’t look inside the burrito
  • Helping generations turn into obese diabetics
  • Consistently awful everywhere, but at least you know what to expect
  • They even fry the napkins
  • Major food groups are well covered: grease, salt and burned
  • Always entertaining – usually a brawl or arrest to watch

 

I went down to the Crossroads though no deals have I made with the Devil

Ed’s note: Okay. Because of age and cultural and perhaps even nationality differences, some people may be clueless about my reference to the “Crossroads” and the “Devil. Here is hoping that this clears this all up. I love, of course, Eric Clapton and the old Cream version of “Crossroads.” These old geezers even do justice to the song.

Today I feel as if I stand at one of life’s crossroads. A quick explainer: I suffer from chronic pain. Originally, it was from degenerative arthritis in my spine. Medication controls that pain to a certain extent. In the last couple of years I developed pain first in my feet from diabetic neuropathy and later in my lower back and hip from something I have never really had any great explanation as to the problem from my VA doctors. The pain may stem from an inflammation of a spinal membrane, the arachnoid, or from some structural defect. Either way, the VA now tells me there is nothing I can really do for it. I mean, I could take a gamble on their pain clinic, but I could wind up with even worse problems. It’s, as they say on Facebook, complicated.

So, I seem to see nothing ahead but a life of pain, but somehow, that doesn’t seem to bother me as much as what about my making a living? It has become increasingly difficult to do my part-time job which pays a salary some full-time people would like to see. Part of that part-time job includes what amounts to selling my program to others so they will cooperate, although those in my job aren’t trained adequately as salesmen because of the complexities involved in the data collection at the heart of my job. It isn’t easy to sell things anyway, unless you are one of those with “the gift.” But it is difficult for me in particular because I long worked as a journalist, as a listener who interprets what I carefully try to hear. It is hard enough to stand on my feet for more than 10 minutes because of excruciating lower back and sometimes feet pain. But combine all of that with trying to be pleasant when you are feeling godawful.

My situation is much more complex than that, but in a nutshell … So the time has come to at least consider filing for disability, both with Social Security and a disability retirement in my job. The most difficult point to ponder is, can I survive on what I make both with retirement and SS Disability? Can I even qualify for SS Disability? I am pretty certain I can, with some difficulty, obtain a medical retirement. Then I have to find out that, should I qualify for one or both disability situations, how much am I allowed to make in my original profession as a writer and journalist?

I am not sure what it says when you worry more about how you are going to survive financially than how are you going to survive with chronic, severe pain — a disability of which some people often doubts its existence. My friends and family pretty much seem supportive. Yet, I know how it is for others who have no idea what chronic pain really is all about. I grew up in a culture that sometimes looked down on those who filed for worker’s comp or disability. This was due to the lazy folks who would prefer to get money for nothing. And later as Dire Straits’ guitar whiz Mark Knopfler sang in the 80s, “your chicks for free.” I’ve been accused of being lazy. I was even elected laziest in my school, an odd family tradition as two of my brothers also won that title.

Nonetheless, I can assure you that if I could go out each day and walk for at least an hour as I could do before my latest bouts with pain now going on about two years, I would have no problem going out every day or every couple of days to do my job collecting data. The trouble is, I have tired of trying to work in agony. I still want to work and I can still work as my feet are the only problem I have in sitting down and typing or talking on the phone. People cannot see you grimace on the phone unless you make terrible sounds or else you talk via some visual method such as Skype on the Internet.

It is thus that at the crossroads — and not my favorite college bar during the 70s and 80s for they paved it over like “paradise” in Joni Mitchell’s song “Big Yellow Taxi” and “put up a parking lot.” — that I sit and ponder the future. The old “double nickel” seems too young to think of the “D” word. Still, something has to lead, follow or get the hell out of the way.

Not entirely stuck on Band-Aids but duct tape is a whole different dog.

Dang it, I can’t find anything today.  Okay there it is.

In addition to my inability to find a damn thing it as well has been another medically frustrating day.

My doctor (my physician’s assistant at the VA) told me that my latest MRI results were practically indistinguishable from the one taken 14 months ago. That is good, in a sense, except I now know only slightly more why my lower back enters seismic pain whenever I stand more than 10 minutes or walk 20 minutes. Reading a copy of my radiology report it appears I have disk degeneration from L4-S1, “mild” central canal stenosis at L-3-4 and disk “protrusions” at L-4-5 and S-1. I read a definition of a disk protrusion as being intermediate  between a bulging disk and one that is herniated.

There are other words in the report which I cannot make heads nor tails of when used in a sentence. Perhaps in those words lie the reason why the doctors say they can do nothing to fix my back. It isn’t that I want surgery but I would sure like something to make the act of walking and standing, two very important factors in my current wage earning as a part-time government data collector and loads of fun for other uses, less filled with agony. Since the doctors have said there was nothing they can do, surgically at least, I thought I’d see if the “pain experts” might have a magical cure. We can already rule out physical therapy. Tried that. If surgery isn’t an option, then, perhaps …. a Band-Aid or duct tape.

While waiting in my doctor/PA’s office this morning, I looked down at my right, big toe and remembered to ask the medical expert about it. For some months now, that big “little piggy” began to look kind of dark and funky. That kind of sets off alarm bells since I have diabetes. Imagine my surprise, and shock, when I looked down at the toe to show the doc and I noticed that the top of my toe looked as if someone had opened it up with a box cutter. There was a nice little “avulsion” there, not bleeding, but certainly reddish on either side of the tear and with each side looking as if they were about to play “Red Rover.”

“That’s not good,” my doc said, she being one for understatements.

Earle Dickson liked to keep a lot of the prototype Band-Aids around for his wife. Enough said?

She prescribed me some antibiotic cream and told me to keep it covered. She didn’t say what my split toe was all about and I am afraid I didn’t ask.

I bought some adhesive tape and “3-by-3s” at the H-E-B Pharmacy on Dowlen. This was after all the pharmacists and techs ignored me while I stood with back aching for some time. I finally went back and purchased the tape and bandage. I chose 3 X 3 bandages — 3″ x 3″ — because I figured I didn’t need a 4 x 4,  which seem to be (or at least used to be) the gold standard for gauze bandages. I was first introduced to the world of 4 x 4s in firefighting rookie school and later during my training and subsequent recertifications as an emergency medical technician. How many times did I hear the joke about the rookie EMT from Texas A & M who brought back an armload of timbers when his supervisor told him to “go get some 4 x 4s?” Too many, I am afraid

I can’t make a long story short without severe editing, so I will just note that when I came home and put the medicated goo on my big toe, the adhesive tape from H-E-B wouldn’t stick on the 3 X 3 for all the world. As somewhat like the wife of Earle Dickson, inventor of the Band-Aid, I always am cutting my fingers cooking plus doing all kinds of other weird stuff. Therefore, Band-Aids are a big item in my medicine cabinet. I had no “big uns” to completely cover my big toe, but I had some standard sized Band-Aid bandages.

The Band-Aid stayed on my toe for awhile, but now it’s waving in the wind like a pair of flesh-colored bikini undies in a 1970s college panty raid although the bandage is, needless to say, much less than sexy.

Until I am able to purchase some of those big, heavy duty, waterproof Band-Aids that I know will cover most of my toe even through a Southeast Texas “frog-strangler” (heavy rain), I think I will retrieve the duct tape from behind my truck seat and use it on the Band-Aid. By Goree, if duct tape doesn’t keep my bandage on, nothing on Earth will.

I could get testimonials for the “silver sticker,” but I don’t think I need it. Who doesn’t have a great duct tape story? Stuck on Band-Aids? (And who doesn’t know that Barry Manilow wrote that jingle before he was a “star?”}Yes, I’m stuck on some of them, but until I get the right BD for the job I’ll go with duct tape to seal the deal, thank  you! Don’t worry, my toe is hairless and will probably be skinless too.