Go ahead. Shoot!

Long, long ago, when I was a child, we had communicable diseases. Diseases like mumps, red measles, German or 3-day measles, and chickenpox were like a rite of passage for those of us in grade school. The rite it might have been was certainly no favor given by your neighbor or school mates who sneezed on us. The good news was that once you had these diseases you would likely never have them again. Of course, since ancient-aged people only got shingles, we had no idea that chickenpox would come back to haunt you when you got older in the form of shingles. And this time, you thought chickenpox was uncomfortable? Why shingles hurt like someone put a flaming shingle up your butt. Not that I know that. I have heard that though not particularly in such an analogy. I have seen a flaming shingle however. Many to be quite factual. I was a firefighter you might remember. Or not.

Thankfully, the Department Veterans Affairs decided that once a patient reaches 55 they are eligible for the shingles vaccination. How good are the shots at preventing shingles? About 51 percent, according to the Centers for Disease Control. Can you say, close enough for government work?

Fortunately, I don’t remember the details of all these diseases. I do know that when I was young it seemed that every time I turned around I would have hypodermic needles stuck in my ass or my arm. Vaccinations. Good! I didn’t know what vaccines were until I joined the Navy. I thought at one time the service to my nation would be to take shots. Shots with needles. Shots with with a jet gun. The latter’s use fell out of favor by the World Health Organization because of the potential to transmit disease from one shot with the jet to another. Counting surgeries and yearly vaccinations for flu and pneumonia, I think I can say, I been shot all to s**t!

jet injector
Shoot me! That’s an order, Doc!

 

So, dating back to the times when I had all the childhood diseases, why weren’t there shots for measles, chickenpox, German measles and mumps? Well, naturally these vaccines came, but they were after my turn in the affliction box. Oh, I did receive the smallpox vaccines with very small, sewing-like, needles as well as the polio vaccine on a sugar cube.

The development of measles vaccinations came in the mid-1960s after scientists came upon flocks of leukemia-free chickens. No, I am not making this up. Millions were vaccinated into the mid-1970s, the time I joined the Navy.

Though I have a cervical spine like a 100-year-old man, I never had the measles (rubeola), mumps, German measles (Rubella) or chickenpox again. I never developed autism either. I did feel puny after a few shots in boot camp and had a fairly upsetting reaction to a yellow fever shot.

But neither am I affluent. Perhaps were I well-off and had a child of vaccination age l would be in that category that is fueling the worst measles epidemic since the CDC declared the disease “eliminated” almost 15 years ago. The “Anti-Vaxxers,” as those who refuse to have their kids immunized have been called, have caught the half-truths and no-truths about fake studies. This includes discredited studies linking immunizations with autism in children. Perhaps the Anti-Vaxxers are also painted with too broad a brush dunked in too much paint. This article in The Daily Beast, for example, charge those who do not vax as “raging narcissists.”

Can’t we all just get along?

No, of course not. We must be polarized to the point of threatening our communities. Just remember there is no “us” in “me.” Say what the fudd? Look, the Anti-Vaxxers are most likely doing what they do for their children. You cannot blame them for that. But these childhood diseases are in some cases lethal. I don’t know how people who care so much for their kids cannot see their kids and their kids’ friends and your friends’ kids and whomever becoming targets for diseases that might just kill someone, including your own children.

There are all kinds of problems out there in this world that you can or cannot believe. Pollution, hydraulic fracturing, global warming, dog fighting, newscasters lying about being shot at, being shot at, and on and on and on. If I change just one mind, perhaps one kid somewhere won’t have to worry about scratching those itchy rashes, running a fever, developing pink eye, and a condition known as “hot dog finger.” Just joking about that last one.

Sleep tight and don’t let the measles bite!

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A note or two

It is barbaric to be restricted to a set number of gigs of data. I have to find something better than Verizon. That’s what I have said for years, but hell’s bells. So I am restricted and close to running over and hopefully no more than $15 in overage. Thus, I probably will write little this week. It’s always something …

Speaking of barbaric, I hate to even compare Verizon to ISIS. That is, at least until the day Verizon burns an overdue customer to death. What ISIS did to the Jordanian fighter pilot is something beyond beyond barbaric. Whatever it might be called. One wonders what revenge would even come close for those ignorant s**theads. Perhaps have them continually watch porn movies. They will be surrounded by the alleged “72 virgins” but the perps will only watch, and watch and watch until they completely lose their minds.  Hey King H old buddy, if you read this and think it a viable punishment, perhaps you could give me a $30,000 weekend like your old rotund one friend Gov. Christie.

On second thought maybe madmen of ISIS may spend the rest of their lives on the phone dealing companies like Verizon.

Some thoughts on feet n’ football

Welcome back. I suppose that is a correct expression. I welcome myself back. I am trying very hard to stay off my left foot. That is where I have a toe wound and it is linked to diabetes. The wound became infected and my podiatrist was like “Holy shit!” He didn’t say that. But his expression said it for him.

I have the inclination to ask him why he wanted to study podiatry. One immediately thinks — at least those of us with somewhat perverted minds — “foot fetish.” But feet stank. Yes I know that isn’t the right word but to get a little OG into it. I’m talking “Original Gangster” but some of you, perhaps it is just I, probably think I was recalling that dirty little short ditty sang by Dr. Hook called “Monterrey Jack.” You know:

“You mean OD/No OG/That’s when you OD and you say Oh gee … ”

I tell you what, for the acclaimed writer of children’s books and poems that Shel Silverstein was, he sure wrote some bawdy songs full of sex and drugs and rock and roll, such as this song. The guy was a f***ing genius.

Where was I any way? Oh yeah, my cousin just emailed me about a Facebook post where I explained a little of what’s going on with my left, second toe. You see, it has a wound partially started via diabetes and the adjacent hammer toes I have. Fortunately, X-rays found no infection in the bone. So if I stay off the foot for awhile in order to heal, perhaps I want have to worry about amputation. As it is, I say a better than even chances. I hate thinking about it. Best not to think about it. So keep it clean, unlike what Shelly did when he wasn’t writing enchanting literature like “I’m being swallowed by a boa constrictor, a boa constrictor, a boa constrictor … ” And even PG tunes such as “A Boy Named Sue.” Yes, yes, I know Johnny Cash sang it, or whatever he did with it, but he didn’t write it. Neither did Cash write Kris Kristofferson’s “Sunday Morning Coming Down.” Johnny made other folks’ songs breathe more feeling.

You know something, people tend to overlook the poetry with music of people like Kristofferson, Billy Joe Shaver, Willie Nelson and others of their ilk. They are all Texans, of course. Kristofferson was a Texan by virtue of Army bratdom. I’m just saying.

And also I’m just saying, what’s up with that Marshawn Lynch? These pro football players, some of them, are just trying to be cute. Of course, that wouldn’t be how they would describe it.

Some folks will chalk it up to disadvantaged youths with no father figure at home and 24/7 rap music and drugs and so forth. Do that if you will. But there are people who turn out just fine. I know a couple of former pro football players these days. Then I also was acquainted with a couple of other former pros, both Dallas Cowboys from the early 60s, but I didn’t hold that against them. One was an Episcopal priest and the other married to a Methodist minister. Both nice guys.

Really, if there is blame to go around for people like Lynch acting like buttholes then a share goes to you and me. Well, the literal me not the figurative me. We make these young men big heroes and like to watch them dance in the end zone and make fools of themselves. We buy their crap and like to see them stick it to the man. That’d be the rich ol’ white man.

Over the last few years the Super Bowl has been pretty uninteresting to me. Even the commercials I usually value more than the game itself. So it is likely to be this year. I don’t give a damn who wins. If there was some way both teams could lose, that would be a great outcome in my mind.

Cheating bastards versus arrogant a**holes. Katie Perry “Roars” in between. Come one, come all!

Damn the computers, full something something

Sometimes it pays — not well mind you — to have a backup computer of some short. That is precisely what is in use here. A tablet plucked with a finger or two. My laptop is on its way back to HP for repair. They did promise an extra year on the warranty. I don’t know if that is good or bad. The half-assed keyboard is charging right now, so until it is up end at ’em it is a one-finger boogie. Want to guess which finger?

I got a walking boot yesterday @ the VA in Houston. It is to take pressure off my infected toe jam football. I mean toe. The infection seems as if it’s healing. That’s good. Infected ulcers on diabetic toes aren’t good. Luckily, the bone is not infected, according to a X-ray. That seems to be a good sign that amputation isn’t on the horizon. Don’t want that. No sir.

So I might churn out a post even less frequently than normal. What ever one might consider normal, other than a city in Illinois.

Peace mi amigo!

Go out to the parking and get in your car and drive real far … it all makes sense

In my research of commercial spots for the upcoming Super Bowl XLIX — which of this weekend will be Seattle Seahawks facing the New England Patriots — did I find no mention of the hilarious Acura RDX commercial. I won’t give much away except it features an attractive woman who goes on speaker phone in her car without knowing, or apparently caring, that her bosses are listening. The woman is rocking out and singing along to, especially the rap portion, of the 1980 Blondie hit “Rapture.”

The sing-a-long may not be one of the $4.5 million spots seen on the Super football game but surely it will make it at least once in the hours-long hype leading up to the 4:30 p.m. Mountain Time game on Sunday, Feb. 1.

Of course, we all know the Super Bowl is all about the TV commercials. Well, mostly. I am not a big fan of the Seahawks although a local boy, Earl Thomas, the ‘Hawks Pro Bowl defensive back, from nearby Orange, Texas, is about the biggest thing in Southeast Texas right now since the Valero Refinery. Fellow Seattle DB and Pro Bowler Richard Sherman and Thomas were both injured in their come-from-behind win against Green Bay yesterday for the NFC Championship. Sherman sprained an elbow yesterday though continued playing despite that even I could see him wincing on TV and not using that left hand. Thomas had a dislocated shoulder. Both are expected to play in the world championship in two weeks.

Thomas is, understandably a hometown hero, he apparently spends a lot of time back home in Orange during the off season, doing good works for the community. So, if even half of what I hear about Thomas is true, it certainly speaks well of the young man. Sherman, obviously loves his mother and Campbell Soup. That, and being one of the best cornerbacks in the game, doesn’t prevent his generally being regarded as one who regularly engages in dirty play.

I didn’t intend to spend so much time writing about the upcoming Super Bowl. I just found the Acura ad amusing and liked that it used what is probably the only “rap” song I like even though it isn’t totally rap. I just have not liked rap or hip hop all that much. I suppose the major difference between “Rapture” and the rest of rap is Blondie vocalist Debbie Harry’s sexy voice — now 30-something years later —  as well as the rock and funk that underlies the tune. A couple of hip-hop pioneers, Fab Five Freddy and Grandmaster Flash, are also name-dropped in the song.

All I’m saying is that it’s a cool song though saddled as both rap and disco tunes. “Rapture” is pretty fly, my man. I gotta figure, that’s a good thing.