Thursday, April 12, 2012

Complicated computer era continues to confuse

3/28/12 Chatterbox
Betty Kaiser


It’s that time of year again—tax time. Time to peer into the depths of my so-called filing system and pull out all those important documents that will make or break us on April 15. Ugh.

Accessing my files system seems much more time consuming than when my receipts were written with pencil and paper. “A place for everything and everything in its place” was my motto. And then along came those formidable boxes called computers and I’ve been confused ever since.

One of the things that sold me on the computer world was the claim that we were entering “A paperless society that would save time.” Well, that was a blatant lie if ever I’ve heard one. I now buy and file more paper than an IBM executive secretary because everyone needs a ‘hard copy’ in addition to an email file.

At first, I was pretty excited when I learned my way around this brave new world. In 1996, one of my jobs in the front office of the Sentinel was to balance the accounts payable at the end of the month. Doing it on the computer was faster and simpler than gathering figures and adding them up on the adding machine. This was good.

Learning to do billing on the computer was another story. I was the office dummy. The one wearing a paper bag over my head that said “In training.” Honestly, for months I thought I would have a nervous breakdown. I longed for the days we hand wrote invoices and could look up accounts payable in a nice notebook.

Silly me, I didn’t know that I had entered a vast maze from which there was no exit. This computer stuff was here to stay and I’d better get on board or be left behind.

Thanks to some very patient teachers in the former Springfield News accounting department things slowly began to make sense. Shortly after Finn John hired me in the newsroom, Jeff, my computer genius son, stepped up to the plate and tutored me in all things “computer.”

Once I learned word-processing, how to set up email accounts and get on the web, I thought I was done. Oh, no. Every door that opened led to a maze. This was an on-going education with secret words and I was dragged screaming and kicking into this new world.

I learned that the computer had to be ‘rebooted,’ when it crashed (crashed?); documents had to be saved. It took years for the meaning of words like defrag, widget, browser, interface, domain, bandwidth, firewall, Webmaster, virus and zip to sink into my pea brain. But I was determined to learn and learn I did.

Somewhere in this time frame I realized that people were walking around talking loudly to themselves while holding something called a cell phone up to their heads. I remember thinking how ridiculous they looked and annoying they sounded. Then telephone booths with 25-cent public telephones started disappearing.

One day I needed a phone booth and there was none in sight. So I became one of “them” by default. I bought a cell phone…just in case. My kids say it’s useless because I mostly leave it in the car. I call it peaceful. They call it weird. But they taught me how to text and take pictures and videos…just in case.

YouTube was my next learning curve. To play their videos we needed high-speed connections. Out in the country we only had dial-up. I finally broke down and subscribed to Satellite just so I could see what people were sending. I thought I had moved into the 21st century.

Not so. Just as I was getting comfortable with this new world of communication some newcomers reared their heads. Twitter? What’s that? In my dictionary it’s a bird singing. I ignored it.

Then came a GPS. Our daughter thought it would help her dad navigate when we’re out in the RV. (Don’t want the old folks getting lost, you know!). He promptly handed it to me and suggested that since I was “so good with these things,” it should be my responsibility to program it, etc. I’ve been in charge ever since.

I was feeling pretty smug about my modern self and then along came Facebook. I have to tell you that I dug in my heels and said, “No, I’m not doing this.” And so far I’m sticking to my guns. I’ve turned down so many offers to “friend” people that I’m surprised I have any friends at all.

Everyone has his or her own reason for signing on to Facebook. Most say, “it helps you connect and share with the people in your life.” Grandparents say, “But it’s so easy to keep up with the family. Otherwise, I’d never know what my grandchildren are doing.”

I say, that’s why we have all of these other gadgets. You know, like the telephone, cell phone, email, cards and letters. Letters? Do people still write letters? Well, I do. Guess that shows you what a dinosaur I am.

And who wants to know what the family is doing every minute anyway? I don’t care what you had for breakfast and I certainly don't want to hear the latest gossip or family tragedy via a public information agency.

The kind of information I need right now is hopefully filed away from prying eyes in Quicken. The IRS is waiting and we all know how impatient they are. Wish me luck!



Betty Kaiser’s Chatterbox is about people, places, family, and other matters of the heart.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Ides of March, Daffodils and Erin Go Bragh!

3/14/12 Chatterbox
Betty Kaiser

March is a quirky month. Weather wise it comes in like a lion before ushering in spring and Daylight Savings time. Then it hopefully goes out like a lamb. Truly though, March weather is unpredictable. We have a little bit of everything—rain, snow, hail, ice, sleet, wind and eventually—sunshine.

Looking at the calendar I see that we’re nearly halfway through the month. In Roman times, March 15, was called the Ides of March. Some years it coincided with the first day of spring but most notably it was a deadline for settling debts.

Today we remember it as a dark day in Roman history. The popular Julius Caesar was warned by soothsayers to “Beware the Ides of March” and avoid the upcoming Senate meeting. He did not heed that warning and went anyway.

There, at the foot of a statue of Pompey, several assassins and his close friend Marcus Brutus stabbed him to death. He was 56 years old and the year was 44 B.C. Thanks to Shakespeare, the fulfilled prophecy was forever immortalized.

But fortunately, March is much more than the bearer of bad news. It is also chock full of things to celebrate. This abbreviated list of historical events shows that March is also a productive month albeit with an epic earthquake thrown into the mix:

• In 1797 Nathaniel Briggs patented the first washing machine.
• On March 17, 1845, the rubber band was invented.
• In 1862, the U.S. government issued paper money for the first time.
• On March 29, 1886, Coca Cola was invented.
• On March 19, 1911, the first International Women’s Day was held to advance women's rights in the workforce, politics and society.
• On March 12, 1912, the Girl Scouts were founded.
• On March 28, 1964, Anchorage Alaska, was struck by the second biggest earthquake ever recorded (9.2). I remember it well.

The return of color in our gardens is another thing to celebrate in the month of March. Daffodils are blooming and tulips are poking their heads out of the ground. Azaleas, camellias and rhododendrons are nearly ready to burst with fat, colorful bulbs; and deciduous trees and bushes are also getting ready to pop.

After a long, dreary winter, if you’ve got cabin fever and need to get out of the house, this is the weekend to do it. Every year on the third weekend in March, thousands of visitors from around the state flock to Ferguson Road in Junction City to view mile after country mile of golden daffodils and enjoy a day of family activities.

If you’re familiar with Junction City’s Scandinavian Festival, you know that these folks know how to put on a party! They don’t just keep an “official” celebration of spring to themselves—they welcome everyone who wants to come. In fact, over the years, the festival has grown from one day to two, adding new features each year.

The Long Tom Grange, on Ferguson Road, sponsors the annual Daffodil Drive & Festival. After you survive the daffodil thrill, the event has free parking and admission on Saturday and Sunday, Mar. 17 and 18. Then you can enjoy free entertainment, a classic car display, wagon rides, an art show, cinnamon rolls, quilt displays and craft booths. I suggest you start with the cinnamon rolls!

And just in case you’re wondering, the music on Saturday and Sunday is from 11 a.m. — 3 p.m. It includes the Richard Spence Trio, the Whiskey Chasers (bluegrass), Janet Little, Taylor Malone (finger-picking guitar), Steve Lbach (Blues guitar) and Skip Jones.

Probably the biggest thing on everyone’s March radar is March 17. That’s the day that everyone is a little Irish in honor of Saint Patrick of Ireland, who brought Christianity to the Emerald Isles. It’s a day to be wearing the green and celebrate Irish history, traditions and customs.

Food, of course, figures into the celebration. Nearly 34 million Americans of Irish heritage will be putting corned beef and cabbage, Irish soda bread and Shepherd’s Pie on the dinner table. Traditional Irish desserts are a bit heavy. I usually think that something light and fruity is in order. Chocolate chip mint ice cream or pistachio pudding are light, colorful and easy on the cook.

Or you could check out this delicious recipe for a fruit pizza that my friend Kaylen served recently. It is not only beautiful to look at but delicious to eat. The fresh fruit nestled in the cream cheese topping on the cookie dough crust is simply scrumptious. Also, the green kiwi will fit perfectly into the color scheme of the day.

FRUIT PIZZA
Kaylen M.

1 pkg. refrigerated sugar cookie dough
1 - 8 oz. cream cheese, softened
1 - 7 oz. jar marshmallow cream
Assorted bite-sized fresh fruit
1 jar strawberry glaze

Slice cookie dough; arrange on 14-inch pizza pan and press to form crust. Bake at 350 degrees for 10 to 14 minutes or until golden brown. Cool. Blend cream cheese and marshmallow cream in bowl. Spread over cookie crust.

Arrange concentric circles of fruit such as Strawberries, pineapple, kiwi fruit, raspberries and blueberries. Drizzle glaze over top using decorating tube. Cut into wedges (8 – 16).

After dinner, you might say together this Old Gaelic Blessing: “May the roads rise with you, and the wind be always at your back; and may the Lord hold you in the hollow of His hand.”

Betty Kaiser’s Chatterbox is about people, places, family, and other matters of the heart.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

The Leap Years keep rolling on!

2/29/12 Chatterbox
Betty Kaiser

If today is your birthday, Happy Leap Day!

Yes, this is February 29—an unusual, extra rotating day that occasionally results in a year of 366 days. Julius Caesar introduced Leap Years in the Roman Empire over 2000 years ago. We can thank him for your special day and our confusion.

As you know, most years, February has 28 days. But thanks to Julius, professional calendar keepers scramble ‘nearly’ every four years and add an extra day to keep our calendars in alignment with the Earth’s revolutions around the sun. Otherwise, every 100 years, our calendar would be off by about 24 days and we don’t want any off calendars!

Did you notice the word ‘nearly’ in the above paragraph? That means an extra day isn’t automatically added every four years. Some years it doesn’t happen. To become a Leap Year and even up the Gregorian calendar that we live by, certain precise criteria must be met:
1. The year must be evenly divisible by 4.
2. It is NOT a Leap Year if the year can be evenly divided by 100;
3. UNLESS, the year is also evenly divisible by 400. Then it is a Leap Year. (Source: timeanddate.com.)

That means that 2000 and 2400 are Leap Years; while 1800, 1900, 2200, 2300 and 2500 are NOT Leap years. Coming up, we will have predictable Leaps in the years 2016, 2020, 2024, 2028 and 2032.

Since Leap Year mostly affects birthdays, I wondered how many extra babies are born on that day. According to the Honor Society of Leap Year Day Babies, there are an estimated five million people born every Feb. 29 around the world. The Society, located in Keizer, OR, has about 10,000 members and some interesting information.

The main goals of the Society are to promote Leap Day awareness and tell birthday stories. I checked out their website to see what some of our Leap Birthday babies had to say about a lifetime of unusual birthdates. The ones I chose ranged from a 116 year old Australian to eight-year-old S.C. triplets.

Edith Milne Woodhead is the Society’s Grandest Leapy. She was born in 1896, lives in a nursing home in Australia, is in good health and has lived in three (3!) centuries. That would make her 116 years!

Elsie Lineham MacDonald was born in 1916. She lives in British Columbia, Canada and says, “I finally hit 21 in the year 2000. Now legal to drive, drink and stay out all night. As per English tradition, I was presented the key to the house.”

Thomas C. Nelson was born in 1920 in the state of Washington. As of his entry he was 87 years old and pushing to see his 22nd birthday.

Nelson says, “One item of interest: when I was shot down during the Santa Cruz Island Battle on 26 October 1942 I bailed out and spent about 26 hours with my life jacket and sharks and picked up next day by IJN Yugomo, a Japanese destroyer. Spent 35 months as a POW. While in the Blue Pacific Ocean near Guadalcanal. I made a wish that I would see my 21st Birthday which I observed in 2004. I am now one of the oldsters when I go into town.”

Lisa Nabieszkowas of Ontario, Canada, born in 1964 says, “Yay!!! Fun to find my tribe!!”

Riley Harris is one of a Leap Day set of quadruplets born in 1988. He says, “Hey guys, I'm the 2nd of 4 babies born leap day '88. I got a brother Ryan, and two sisters Rachel and Roxanne. If you are, or know of any other leap day quadruplets, could you please contact me? As far as I know we are the only ones in the world.”

Samuel Harris Rowe and his adorable siblings were born 2004 at 6:32 p.m. He says, “I am a spontaneous triplet born naturally on Leap Day. My brother, sister, and I hold the record for the largest triplets (total weight 16 lbs. 13 oz.) ever born in Charleston, SC. My mommy carried us for 37.5 weeks.” (Betty sez, “Mommy deserves a medal!”)

And who can forget the Leap Birthday saga told in “The Pirates of Penzance.” This popular Gilbert & Sullivan operetta debuted in 1879 to rave reviews. It was praised “as exquisitely funny and the music strikingly tuneful and catching.” (You may remember the famous line “Lock up your daughters, the pirates are coming to town!”)

The story centers around Frederic, a lad apprenticed to a band of tenderhearted, orphaned pirates. Frederic’s nurse was directed by his father to take him to a ‘pilot’ in the harbor for a sea-faring career. Instead, the hard of hearing nurse gave him over to a band of pirates until he celebrated his 21st birthday.

As the story evolves, we learn that the pirates cannot make a profit because they are too compassionate. Frederic tries to convince them to give up piracy to no avail. After his 21st birthday emancipation, Frederic falls in love with Mabel.

A complicated saga of a Major General falsely claiming to be an orphan to stop the pirates from marrying his daughters escalates into all kinds of madness. Suddenly it is revealed that Frederic was born on February 29 in a Leap Year and technically has only had five birthdays rather than the 21 required by his contract.

Oh, my! Poor Frederick, bound by honor and duty, leaves Mabel and rejoins the pirates to stay until he is 80 years old. More chaos ensues. But in the end, Frederic is released and reunited with Mabel. The Major General and the pirates make peace and all is well.

Some years are just too special to have only 365 days—this is one of them—enjoy your extra day!

Betty Kaiser’s Chatterbox is about people, places, family, and other matters of the heart. 

Monday, February 20, 2012

Getting by with a little help from our friends

2/15/12 Chatterbox
Betty Kaiser

Getting by with a little help from our friends

As I recounted in my last column, I was home alone on Jan. 16, enjoying the aftermath of Cottage Grove’s first snowstorm of 2012 when…I slipped and fell on the ice while taking photos of the winter wonderland I was admiring.

Eventually, I managed to drive myself to CG Hospital where a young man helped me into a wheelchair and into the ER. I was told that there were no broken bones and sent home to ‘take it easy,’ expect pain and take appropriate medications.

Days later, the pain was so overwhelming that ‘taking it easy’ was not an option. It was mandatory. The pain meds weren’t working and neither was I. Two doctor visits and one CT Lumbar Spine Scan later revealed a vertebral compression fracture of T12 and a posterior displacement. Whatever that means.

The word ‘fracture’ sent chills down my spine, but it was also strangely reassuring. I was beginning to think that I was the pain wimp of all time. Now I knew the cause was greater than bruises.

So I called my daughter Kathy to help cheer me up. She and I share the same wicked sense of humor and I thought she would put a positive but humorous spin on things. I tensely shared that I had a compression fracture and needed to see a specialist to determine if surgery was needed. Her response was priceless.

“Wow, I’m so sorry,” she said sympathetically. “I don’t know what to say except…the seventies sure haven’t been kind to you and dad!” And then she giggled, breaking the tension. In return I suggested that since she’s only 20 years behind me, I should be writing a book on “what to expect at 70.” Then we both had a good laugh.

Laughter is a great tension reliever but pain has been a big wake up call for this senior citizen. I tend to think that I’m the Energizer Bunny and never going to wear out. Relentless pain has convinced me otherwise. I am now painfully aware that I am oh, so very human and my batteries are losing their charge.

The ramifications of my fall on the ice have also changed my current lifestyle. Normally, I’m an active person. I have things to do, people to see and columns to write. I have no time or desire to be idle. Unfortunately, the kind of healing I need takes down time and my projected 4-6 weeks of recovery has been expanded to 12 weeks.

Between doctor and physical therapy visits, I have been practicing ‘taking it easy.’ Believe me, there’s nothing ‘easy’ about taking it easy! First I had to work through the pain, fear and humiliation of the fall. Then came frustration at not being able to be active. Slowly, acceptance of the situation settled in and last week I had a surprising victory—contentment.

I was settled down on a heating pad napping on my favorite sofa with a cat and dog. Gracie (the cat) was softly purring on my lap and Sadie (the dog) was cuddled up to both of us as close as she could get. It was quiet. No TV was on. No phones were ringing. There was nothing I had to do. I was content to be healing.

Over the past four weeks, I’ve been forced to do nothing for hours on end. Pain sets in and I’m worn out after standing for more than 45 minutes. So I’ve followed doctor’s orders—I do a little and rest a lot. I put in a load of wash and go sit on the heating pad for a while. I do the dishes or tidy up and repeat the heating pad scenario.

In the process, I’ve learned to change agitation into an attitude of gratitude. The past three months, during my husband’s hospitalizations and my accident, my lifestyle revolved around life and death issues—a helpless feeling. Gratitude has come in looking back and realizing that every need was met. God provided. I didn’t even have to ask. At every corner a friend was there to meet the need.

Over the holidays, when Chuck was in RiverBend Hospital fighting for his life, I left home early and came home late every day. One of our neighbors graciously took over the task of caring for our cats and dogs. On nights when I was very late she would come down twice to feed them and later put them to bed by the heater.

Later, when Chuck came home from the hospital, her husband kept our woodbin full with firewood and kindling split and ready to start a fire. One night when an ambulance took Chuck to Eugene, I was too overwhelmed to follow in my car. Friends drove down from Creswell, drove me to Eugene, back to Cottage Grove and then asked if they could do it again the next day!

Dozens of family, friends and a wonderful church family rallied round to encourage us in every way possible. They called, emailed, sent notes and cards. They offered prayers and put Chuck on prayer chains around the country. From those chains came notes from people we didn’t even know.

Our minister was at the hospital or on the phone daily. Others visited, brought meals, ran errands, and worked in the yard. There were so many offers of help that I couldn’t answer all of them.

My cup continues to overflow with gratitude. Prayers were answered. Healing began. Needs were taken care of. How can I complain over this latest bump in the road? I can’t. Now is the time to be grateful for blessings received.

The psalmist said: “Oh, give thanks to the Lord for He is good!”

Chuck and I also thank each of you who reflected that goodness.




Betty Kaiser’s Chatterbox is about people, places, family, and other matters of the heart.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Oops! I did it again!

Betty's "Ice Capade" happened near here
1/25/12 Chatterbox
Betty Kaiser


The morning of last week’s big snow, I slipped on a sneaky sheet of ice (disguised by snow) covering the driveway. I went down in a heap, in deep, deep pain. Prone and barely conscious, I chastised myself, “Oh, no, I did it again!”

Five minutes went by. Then ten. My whole body was numb and I was having trouble breathing. I gingerly tried to move my arms. They worked! Then I stretched my legs and wiggled my toes. They also worked. My heart did I little happy dance of hope. But then I tried to get up and couldn’t. My back went into pain spasms and I collapsed on the ice waiting for them to subside.

The day had started out splendidly. Overnight, snow had blanketed our property and turned the sticks of winter shrubs into a winter wonderland. On his way out the door, my husband reminded me that it was also very cold outside. It was his way of telling me to be on the lookout for dangerous black ice as I drove around the dam. He was headed for town and I was meeting him later.

As an avid amateur photographer, I firmly believe that you can never have enough pictures of snow-covered trees and meadows. So I grabbed my camera and car keys as I stepped out of the house to drive into town. There was a little gray squirrel running around and I wanted to snap a few pictures of him before the snow melted.

My feet crunched through the snowy areas but I remember hesitating to walk too far up the driveway. It looked icy. Instead, I walked back to the garage’s cement pad. The birch trees next to the driveway were literally sparkling with snowdrops. “Maybe,” I thought, “I can shoot them from underneath and it will look like a kaleidoscope.”

That was the last I remember. I didn’t notice that crunchy snow had turned to slick ice. Simultaneously, both feet slid out from under me. My bottom hit the ground—HARD! I bounced and then fell backwards resting on my shoulders. I briefly blacked out but not for long. Sammy (the Wonder-dog!) was right there licking my face and checking to see if I was okay.

Well, I had my doubts. It was 9:30 a.m. Except for two dogs and two cats; I was all alone on a sheet of ice. My cell phone, camera and keys had gone flying when I fell. I didn’t know how I was going to get up off the ground but I had to try.

Actually, it took several tries to get myself into an upright position so that I could crawl into the garage. Once in the garage, I pulled myself up onto the car and looked for my phone, camera and keys. They were half covered by snow. Oy! Back I went to retrieve them.

I tried to call Chuck on his cell phone but he didn’t answer. It was getting harder and harder for me to breathe (let alone talk!) but my back was screaming with each spasm. No one could see me from the road and I was pretty sure that my closest neighbor wasn’t home.

Somehow, I drove myself to the hospital’s Emergency Room. By that time, Chuck had called (wondering where I was) and I told him to meet me at the hospital. There, I was the center of attention as a young man got a wheel chair and wheeled me into the ER under the watchful gaze of a security guard.

Three hours later I had been examined, x-rayed and pronounced, “bruised and battered.” I was given pain meds and released to go home and take it easy. Miraculously, no bones were broken in this adventure but every muscle in my body is still sore. (Note: later it was determined that I have a compression fracture.)

If you are a regular reader of this column, you probably know that I am a bit accident-prone. In the last 10 years, I’ve fallen off a ladder and lacerated my head; got banged up bathing a cat; twice fallen down stairs and broken bones in my foot; and too many other things to enumerate.

Now, when I was a Girl Scout our motto was “Be Prepared.” So at this point in my life you would think that I might have some words of wisdom to offer. You would be wrong!

I simply don’t know how to stop this kind of accident from happening in my own back yard. I know how to pack a survival kit for all kinds of other circumstances—I always have a blanket, water, protein bars, flares, matches, flashlights and a fire extinguisher in our car. Our house pantry is stocked with enough non-perishable food to feed a family of 6 for a spell. We have extra bottled water, etc.

I learned from my fall off an 8-ft ladder to stay off antique ladders with round rungs and especially not to step backwards off the top rung! But Chuck solved that problem. He removed the temptation. One day I came home and he had hung it on the wall for me to decorate. Under his supervision of course.

I learned from my cat–in-the-bathtub experience that you should never put a cat in the tub with water running!

I learned from falling down stairs that accidents happen and bones don’t heal very easily at this stage of life.

So I guess there is something I should have done to keep my bottom from hitting the ice…I should have put on my snow boots and scouted the territory before I walked on it.

Of course, I could also buy one of those fancy walkers with a horn and four large wheels for stability. Maybe then I could stay upright.

Stay safe everyone!

Betty Kaiser’s Chatterbox is about people, places, family, and other matters of the heart.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

The good news is that we survived a bad news year

1/11/12 Chatterbox
Betty Kaiser

There’s no doubt about it, 2011 was a rough year. Setting aside the circumstances over which we have absolutely no control—wars, economic downturns, natural and manmade disasters—almost everyone I know struggled through the calendar year 2011.

For some of us it was a frustrating, heartbreaking, what’s-going-to-happen-next, kind of year. It was one of those really horrible, terrible, very bad years. The kind of year that lingers in your mind forever: “Remember, 2011? Wow. I didn’t think it would ever end.”

Now, I know all the clichés about how to cope with hard times. I know that life is composed of the good and the bad. I know that rain falls on the just and the unjust alike. I also know that no matter how bad things are, they will change. Blah, blah, blah.

But let’s face it if you’re going through a tough time, you don’t need clichés, you need help. Hard times aren’t imaginary. Bad things do happen to good people (another cliché) and I noticed a lot of good people suffering this past year—accidents, financial setbacks, deaths and illnesses. Our family was no exception.

January 2011 started out with a bang—literally. Matthew, my 17-year old grandson was broadsided by a driver (who did not have the right-of-way) turning into him. His car was totaled and he spent time in the hospital with broken ribs and a collapsed lung. The car was replaceable but Matt’s chance at a college scholarship for his track prowess was destroyed.

In the fall of 2010 I had arthroscopic knee surgery for meniscus tears. I did fine. Then, early last year, I heard a pop, went down on my knees and have really never gotten back up since. As the months went by, fluid removal and many injections did not help. Another MRI revealed that I no longer have an ACL (pop!) and I’m walking bone-on-bone. So much for the lifetime benefits of exercise and aerobics classes. I can’t believe the doctors are saying “knee replacement.”

During the summer, our youngest son lost his 22-year position as the founding pastor of a church because of the economy. One-third of his congregation was out of work; they could no longer pay the mortgage or the pastor. We are now very familiar with the word “unemployed.”

In October, we lost a precious niece to suicide. We are still shocked at the unfathomable loss of a talented, vivacious and perfectly adorable young woman. It is heartache beyond description. We will always be numb with grief and disbelief.

And then came Nov. 18, 2011. That night, my husband’s sudden abdominal pain began a nightmare that turned into three Emergency Room trips, an ambulance ride, many surgeries and procedures, doctors and stays in Intensive and Cardiac Care. Over the holidays, he was in and out of hospitals for six weeks.

What happened? Well, unfortunately, his infected gallbladder burst during the initial surgery, dumping ‘sludge’ into the abdominal cavity. That resulted in abscess formations and all the complications written in fine print on those papers you sign when you go into the hospital for a procedure. He had his last procedure Jan. 4, 2012. Praise God!

So where am I going with all of this? Well, we’re just one family that was coping with wave after wave of difficulties last year. Multiply us by thousands and you’ll find a heap of hurt in our world. And it helps if we take notice that others are in the same or similar boat—just coping and trying to get through the days.

That is not to say that good things didn’t happen. Last year, like all others, love brought couples together, babies were born, friendships were made, vacations were taken, graduates went out into the world, the sick were healed, sunrises and sunsets were enjoyed. In a way, it was business as usual. Our world operates on a delicate balance between good and bad.

But balancing life during stressful times is not easy. During Chuck’s weeks in the hospital I had to force myself to look up and outside of the hospital walls. I had to remind myself that “This, too shall pass.” Subconsciously, my mantra became, “We’ve done it before, we can do it again.” Giving yourself a pep talk is not an easy task when your loved one is in a life or death situation but it is necessary.

“Tough times don’t last, tough people do,” is another cliché worth adopting. One must make positive choices during tough times and not become a victim of circumstances. Choosing to look on the bright side of things is easy to say but difficult to do when you’re weighed down with physical, mental or emotional trauma.

So how does one really cope when dealing with the horrific or unknown? I distilled my coping mechanisms down to the basics:
1. Focus on what’s important (the patient, the procedure, etc).
2. Become an advocate (for myself or others).
3. Don’t become frantic or fearful. I meditated or listened to inspirational music in the car as I drove back and forth.
4. Have faith. Keep looking up and believing.

As I write this we’re already well into this month of January. None of us know what this year 2012 will bring but I wish you hope, health and happiness. We’re all in this life together, so bring it on!


Betty Kaiser’s Chatterbox is about people, places, family, and other matters of the heart. Contact her at 942-1317 or via e-mail — bchatty@bettykaiser.com

Friday, January 6, 2012

Looking back: Edison's Vision for 2011

12/28/11 Chatterbox
Betty Kaiser

At the end of each calendar year I find myself looking back and trying to gain some perspective on events in my personal life and the world around me. I seldom come up with any earthshaking insights and while I’m looking ahead to the future, I’m not one to make any New Year’s resolutions or predictions. Facts have always been more appealing to me than speculation.

But some people are brazen enough to predict what they think the future holds. One of those was Thomas Alva Edison, the most prolific inventor in American history. His hundreds of inventions ran the gamut from electric power, batteries, motion pictures, phonographs, sound recording and cement—to telegraphs and telephones.

History has proven Edison’s brilliance. So in 1911 when he was asked to predict what life would be like in one hundred years (2011), he was up to the challenge. But before I quote his thoughts, let’s first take a look at how different life was from today at the turn of the twentieth century.

The American flag had 45 stars. Only 6-percent of students graduated from high school and two out of every 10 adults couldn’t read or write. Crossword puzzles and canned beer hadn’t been invented. Crime rates were low— about 230 murders in the entire country. And of course, there were no cell phones or computers.

The average life expectancy for men was 47 years. The five leading causes of death were pneumonia and influenza, tuberculosis, diarrhea, heart disease and stroke. Marijuana, heroin and morphine were available over the counter at drugstores.

The average wage in America was 22 cents per hour and the average yearly wage was $200—$400. An accountant could expect to earn $2,000 per year; a dentist or veterinarian $1500-$4,000 per year; and a mechanical engineer about $5,000. Ninety percent of all doctors had no college education. Instead, they attended (often questionable and substandard) medical schools.

A Sears-Roebuck catalog house with a screened porch, built-in buffet and inside bath could be purchased for about $1,100. Just 14 percent of homes had a bathtub and only eight percent had a telephone. In the entire country there were only 8,000 cars and 144 miles of paved roads; fuel was sold in drugstores. Sugar cost four cents a pound, coffee 15-cents a pound and eggs 14-cents a dozen.

It was in this environment on June 23, 1911 that the “Miami Metropolis” interviewed Edison and published his startling predictions about the future of automobiles, the discontinuation of gold as precious metal, the rise of steel and the death of the steam engine. I quote in part from “The Year 2011 According to Thomas Edison,” by an unknown author:

“None but a wizard dare raise the curtain and disclose the secrets of the future; and what wizard can do it with so sure a hand as Mr. Thomas Alva Edison…He alone of all men who live has the necessary courage and gift of foresight, and he has not shrunk from the venture.

“Already, Mr. Edison tells us, the steam engine is emitting its last gasps…In the year 2011 such railway trains as survive will be driven at incredible speed by electricity…generated by "hydraulic" wheels.

“But the traveler of the future… will largely scorn such earth crawling. He will fly through the air, swifter than any swallow, at a speed of two hundred miles an hour, in colossal machines, which will enable him to breakfast in London, transact business in Paris and eat his luncheon in Cheapside.

“The house of the next century will be furnished from basement to attic with steel, at a sixth of the present cost — of steel so light that it will be as easy to move a sideboard as it is today to lift a drawing room chair. The baby of the twenty-first century will be rocked in a steel cradle; his father will sit in a steel chair at a steel dining table, and his mother's boudoir will be sumptuously equipped with steel furnishings, converted by cunning varnishes to the semblance of rosewood, or mahogany, or any other wood her ladyship fancies.

“Books of the coming century will all be printed leaves of nickel, so light to hold that the reader can enjoy a small library in a single volume. A book two inches thick will contain forty thousand pages, the equivalent of a hundred volumes; six inches in aggregate thickness, it would suffice for all the contents of the Encyclopedia Britannica. And each volume would weigh less than a pound.

“More amazing still, this American wizard sounds the death knell of gold as a precious metal. ‘Gold,’ he says, ‘has even now but a few years to live. The day is near when bars of it will be as common and as cheap as bars of iron or blocks of steel.

“’In the magical days to come there is no reason why our great liners should not be of solid gold from stem to stern; why we should not ride in golden taxicabs, or substituted gold for steel in our drawing room suites. Only steel will be the more durable, and thus the cheaper in the long run.’”

Well, Mr. Edison missed the mark on some of his predictions: i.e. an entire house and furnishings of steel and a plethora of transportation made of gold, but some ideas weren’t so far off. Electric trains, massive airplanes, a few cars sprayed with real gold and Kindle type E-Books are certainly mini-libraries.

Now that 2011 is drawing to a close, it would be interesting to pick Thomas Edison’s brain about what the next 100 years might hold. On second thought, sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Happy New Year 2012, everyone! May your joys be many and your sorrows few as you live each day in gratitude with hope for tomorrow.

Betty Kaiser’s Chatterbox is about people, places, family, and other matters of the heart.