AED

The chances are good that some of you will  one day save someone’s life by quick action and thoughtful response.  Or it may be your life that is saved . . . .

I get on the train each day and am confronted by a panel which announces the location of the “AED” unit (“Automated External Defibrillator”). I’ve seen this notice time and time again.  My eyes glaze over and I move to my seat.  In my post of October 21, 2011, I recounted that the best course I ever took in college was a year-long tutorial on advanced first aid (it has come in so handy over the years).  Thus, a few weeks ago, something clicked.  I should figure out what this “AED” thingee is.  So while having lunch at my desk – I logged onto a YouTube video which told the story of the AED (see  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfvu5FCQs6o ).  I may not – yet – be ready to use it but I’ve got a better idea now of what an AED does.  And how it works.  Hopefully, I will never need it.  I would suggest to those reading this post to spend 4 minutes and learn about the AED. 

And while you’re doing that, why not learn the Heimlich Maneuver?  I’ve done it twice – successfully.  See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CgtIgSyAiU&feature=kp 

A baby choking?  See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DUSnEpheYkY

How about CPR (“Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation”)?  See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPEFskCrdhQ&feature=kp

Heavy bleeding?  See http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OwV39oxGwZU

If you watch all of these videos (if they don’t “link” just paste them in your browser), you will spend maybe 30 minutes.   It may be the most valuable 30 minutes you ever spend.  And someone – maybe you – will be eternally grateful.    

 

 

Teaching to the Test

“Teaching to the test” is an educational practice which focuses teachers on preparing students for standardized testing.  The practice is often considered unethical given that it forces teachers to limit curriculum to a fixed set of knowledge or facts.  There is a emphasis on excessive repetition of simple and isolated skills (“drill and kill“).  A student’s rote memorization then translates to a possible ability to “score” on a test but an inability to understand why answers are what they are. The big problem is that then students suffer – greatly – by losing out on creative and abstract thinking, general knowledge and general concepts.  Japan has been notorious for teaching to the test but their academic successes have been often attributed to longer and more school days (240 days versus less than 180 in the U.S.). 

So why do teachers “teach to the test”?  The answer is simple — because teachers are often themselves graded on this false metric of student success.  These skewed results then reduce the validity of standardized tests and create a incorrect profile of a student’s achievement.  What could be worse for our children?  For students?   The federal No Child Left Behind Act (2001) relies heavily on standardized testing.  It has been a failure for the most part and education in America continues its race to the bottom.  Frankly the problems seem to have begun when the U.S. Department of Education was established in 1980.  This Department has an annual budget of over $80 billion dollars (with 5,000 employees).  Maybe we should judge the DOE on the basis of its success.  And if it doesn’t measure up — abolish it.  I’ll bet the states could use that money far more wisely.  With a resulting uptick in educational success. . . .

Donald Sterling

Does anyone doubt that Donald Sterling is an idiot? Not just for making discriminatory comments but also (as we have learned) for his history of discrimination in real estate ventures.   The media has convicted him and the NBA has sentenced him – stripping him of ownership of his basketball team. Maybe this is deserved but I have to wonder about the process . . . .

Donald Sterling has done nothing illegal.  None of his players or employees have ever accused him of discrimination — or making racist comments.  But the media was quick to stir up public opinion and condemn him and the NBA followed in lockstep — ordering his property — the Los Angeles Clippers — forcibly sold.  Donald Sterling has not had much to say in his defense though the media remains apoplectic. 

I rarely agree with the American Civil Liberties Union but they have often said that the First Amendment was designed to protect offensive and unpopular speech.  If you can’t protect unpopular speech, then there is no Freedom of Speech as provided by the First Amendment to the Constitution (“. . . no laws . . .abridging the freedom of speech“).  Does it seem like Americans are losing that right of free speech?  Then there’s the 5th Amendment which states that “nor shall any person . . . .be deprived of life, liberty or property without due process of law.”  Was there due process here?  And then there is the 14th Amendment’s (section 1) restatement of that expectation.  And then there is the 6th Amendment’s right to a speedy trial. 

We may want to hold our collective noses over Donald Sterling’s nasty comments but should we suspend the Constitution to punish him?  Frankly the media would probably have looked the other way if he had shoplifted a can of coffee or punched out a well-deserving paparazzi.  But most journalists don’t care about justice.  As President Barack Obama said following the incident “When ignorant folks want to advertise their ignorance, you don’t really have to do anything.  You just let them talk.  And wait for them to fade away.

 

10,000 Steps

For our birthdays, Lauren & Trent presented Donna and me with our very own FITBIT’s. You know about this?

The FITBIT is a wireless thingee that you wear on your wrist. It is an “activity tracker” which records the number of steps you take, it monitors your calorie intake and expenditure, the amount of water you drink and your quality and quantity of sleep.  It also gives you a sharp electric jolt if you reach for a cookie.  JUST kidding about the cookie business.  The FITBIT is actually kinda cool.  I’ve learned that I have a lot of weighty matters on my mind while I sleep (it records time awake, restless and in deep sleep).  It gives me an electrical thumbs up when I reach 10,000 steps (about 5 miles).  And it tells me how many calories I’ve burned (as if I give a hoot). 

In an article titled “The Pedometer Test” by Tara Parker Pope (October 19, 2010), it said that Americans take about half as many steps per day than their counterparts around the world.  Australians log 9,695 steps per day.  Swiss – 9,650.  Japanese – 7,168.  American men take 5,340 and American women – 4,912.   Though Amish men average 18,000 steps per day and Amish women, 14,000.  So the FITBIT is a way to challenge yourself to go the extra mile.  Literally.    

The FITBIT is made by Fitbit, Inc. of San Francisco.  The cost is between $60 and $130.  And they are normally tethered to your Smartphone.  If you’re looking for a unique and quirky gift, this is probably one that will satisfy.   

Mt. Vesuvius

Over Memorial Day weekend, Donna and I went up to Door County Wisconsin and stayed at a wonderful B&B in Sturgeon Bay – the Chanticleer Guest House. On Sunday afternoon, we went for lunch to a popular pizza spot in Fish Creek. We waited about 40 minutes and got a table. And sat down. It was shortly thereafter that Mt. Vesuvius erupted.

The folks at the next table paid their bill, got up and left. A wait staff person walked over with a spray bottle of bleach/cleanser and began spraying from way above the table. And spraying. And spraying. All over the table. The spray wafted over our food and the aroma stung eyes and quickly raised the alert levels for Donna from Defcon 5 to Defcon 1 (the Defcon folks would’ve been proud at Donna’s immediate and vigorous reaction).  Our onion ring appetizer was rendered unedible.  Our own table glistened with spray.  Eyes burned.  It was then that Mt. Vesuvius – aka Donna –  erupted for the first time since 79 A.D.  The server was chastened. The manager was called to the table.  And she apologized.  Profusely.  The enthusiastic “sprayer” came over and apologized as well.  And our meal was offered “on the house.”  I have rarely seen Donna complain.  About anything (except to me of course which is where she hones her skills).  But this was a major “over the top” exercise of sanitation.  The explanation was that the State of Wisconsin Department of Health requires that such sprays be used generously on tables.  I seriously doubt it.  I have been in many restaurants.  All over.  And I have never seen such requirement or obligation.  And I’ve never seen anyone drown a table in chemicals while someone sat two feet away.  Soaking a table with spray may be a reasonable exercise  at closing time or perhaps upon opening.  But while there are diners sitting at ground zero?  The scent of bleach and cleaning solution lay heavily in this restaurant.  Even with the windows open.  For those who like there food seasoned with ammonia, I’ve got just the place for you.  And if this turns out to be a new Wisconsin regulation, I’ve got just the state for you. . . . .  

The Rodeo

In my post of November 21, 2013, I mentioned how my parents had put me on a train bound for Denver when I was 10 years old. “Don’t get off ’til Denver” my father had said. And that was that. I was off to Skyline Ranch – a camp for boys in Estes Park.  Once at camp – after the homesick tears ended – I settled in pretty well.  Riding horses, hiking, swimming and shooting every day. 

The big day came when we all participated in a junior rodeo in Estes Park.  And I won.  I still have the trophy.  The events were pretty tame.  Barrel races.  Flat out races.  And then there was the potato race.  Each kid mounted his horse and got a spoon and potato.  The potato went in the spoon.   And you trotted toward the finish line.  If the potato fell, you had to dismount, pick it up, put it on the spoon and get back in the saddle.  I won the event.  No one told me I couldn’t put my thumb on the potato to hold it in place. 

Then there was the balloon pop.  Every kid had a balloon tied to his saddle.  And each got a sharpened 9 inch nail.  When the starting gun went off, everyone flurried into the mix.  Trying to pop the other kid’s balloon.  Once popped, you had to move out.  Well I figured I was toast if I got mixed up so I slung one leg over the saddle horn.  And waited.  When there were two boys left – going round and round stabbing and yelling – I said “giddup” and suddenly appeared.  And I popped their balloons.   I won that event too.   I won’t tell you how I won the barrel race. . . . .

I’m told that these instincts probably have helped me as a lawyer. 

Heart Healthy

Donna and I went to a restaurant the other night. The menu was bedecked with admonitions like:
LC – Low Cholestorol
HH – Heart Healthy
LS – Low Sodium
PF – Peanut Free  And so on

Wouldn’t it be refreshing to see legends like FFF for “Fat Fat Fat” or HS for “Heart Stopper” or LC for “Laden with Cholesterol” or MSS – “More Salt than Siberia.”  How about CG – “Calories Galore.”  I mean they put warnings on cigarettes (“you will die“) but the warnings on food rarely describe the destructive effects of salt and sugar and the artery-clogging and unbalanced nature of fast foods, red meats and genetically-modified foods.   

Burger King has – I kid you not – a “Triple Whopper with Cheese Meal” with fries and a Coke.  There are nearly 2,200 calorie and 2,300 mg of sodium in this “meal.”  Oh, plus 35 grams of saturated fat.  If you add a McDonalds large triple thick shake, you can tack on 1,160 calories.  Frankly, when I order the Triple Whopper, I ask for it with bacon and cheddar fries.  And finish with a giant piece of cheesecake.  And a cup of coffee with NutraSweet (certainly not sugar).  Now that’s living. . . . . 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Social Security

I’m not as dumb as I look.  But I have to confess that on the subject of Social Security, I’ve been like “duhhhhh.”  It’s just recently that I have started to give Social Security more than a passing glance.  And it’s like “Wow!”  While I have reached that magical “full retirement age” (for me – 66) where I can collect my full Social Security benefits and yet still work full time, I have decided to wait.  If I wait one year, I collect an added 8% annual benefit.  Waiting two years – another 8%.   Benefits go up 8% each year until age 70.  At that other magical age – 70 – there is no incentive to forestall collecting benefits. 

Now here’s something I didn’t know.   Donna has been collecting Social Security since age 63 since waiting – for her – would not mean much.  Now that we have reached age 66, she can collect benefits on my Social Security while I suspend collecting on my own.  That nearly doubles the monthly payout.  I could have actually applied for Social Security under Donna’s benefit but that would have delivered about $50 less per month than having Donna claim under mine.  And by waiting to collect on my own Social Security, the benefit continues to go up for Donna in the event I get hit by a bus while walking home from the train station.   Frankly the chances of that happening are not as great as me suddenly keeling over while sitting at the compute. . . . . (thud) . . . .  

The Rock Island Line

In 1845, the Chicago Rock Island Railroad began with a charter penned in the City of Rock Island, Illinois.  For 130 years, the Rock Island Line hummed and drummed across the landscape of America.  Until 1975 when a federal judge in Chicago ordered the famed railroad into bankruptcy.   On December 10, 1977, a one day auction was held in the old LaSalle Street Station in Chicago.  Tables, chairs, paintings, rolling stock and office supplies were sold off from the old railroad.  There were also several hundred “tote” boxes full of archives of the railroad.  All were filthy dirty and all were sealed.  Any bid was on the contents.  Sight unseen.  The local news touted that perhaps the boxes contained a letter of Abraham Lincoln or Stephen Douglas – both of whom worked for the railroad.  I was drawn – like a moth to flame – and I bought 45 boxes of “stuff” at $3.50 a box.  I crammed the boxes into the trunk and car interior of our Plymouth Valiant.  And drove home.  Donna thought I was nuts.  Until I opened the boxes. . . . 

There were hundreds of letters of U.S. Congressmen, Senators, Vice Presidents of the U.S., members of the U.S. Supreme Court, Chicago mayors.   There were Aldermen like “Bathhouse John” Coughlin and “Hinky Dink” Kenna.  And there were original letters of Clarence Darrow.   It was a trove of major value.  And I ended up selling most of the material to the University of Iowa.  For many times what I paid for it.  It was then I went on a three year quest – to acquire the rest of the defunct railroad’s archives.

After scores (hundreds?) of phone calls over three years, this squeaky wheel got the oil.  A gusher.  I was told the rest of the archives were housed in a 10 story, 100,000 square foot building at Polk & LaSalle.  No one had been in the building for 2 years.   “I’ll buy it” I said.  And did.  I bought the entire contents of the building for $500. They handed me the keys and it was mine.   The only hitch — I had to get it out in 4 weeks.  Within a few hours, I had the contents sold – to the Universities of Iowa and Oklahoma (Norman).  Iowa had first choice and Oklahoma got the remainder.  I walked alone through the 10 floors.  File cabinets.  Boxes of files.  Empty desks.  Coffee cups ringed with dried coffee.  A mausoleum.  Over the next few weeks, I orchestrated eight 48 foot over-the-road tractor trailers. Loading up the goodies.  I looked back, walked out and locked the door.     

I still have a few things from the RI.  A ceremonial spike.  A slice of track.  Oh – and yes – some old letters.  In 1997, I delivered a paper to the Chicago Literary Club.  Telling the whole story.  It’s online at www.chilit.org/Papers%20by%20author/Petersen1.htm.  The Rock Island Line.  Was a mighty fine line.  And it was sure good to me. 

At Home

In Deborah Tannen’s classic work You Just Don’t Understand, she speaks of how men talk to “report” and women talk for “rapport.”  Well speaking of books, I just finished one that – guys – you will love.  It’s At Home by Bill Bryson.  It contains so many facts and factoids that I want to read it again.  Just to absorb more stuff to report on.   

It may sound boring but At Home takes you through the house room-by-room and explains just about everything.   Why did the kitchen develop?  Why is it called a “living room”?  What is the importance of ice?   How did bathing come into fashion?  Quick answer – it didn’t for a looooonnnng long time. . . . . Why are there bedrooms?   Bathrooms?  Why glass windows?   

Mister B devotes infinite – fascinating – detail to these and hundreds of other blips and tidbits of information.  From architecture, electricity, hygiene, food preservation and the daily life of eating, sleeping and trying to get more comfortable.  Guys, you can carry this book to cocktail parties and when other guys start spouting facts, you can pull this baby out and wow ’em.