Stupidity Epidemic? Or What?

I realize I'm starting to sound a bit disgruntled with how much "normal" service levels are degrading in my regular life. It's not limited to prescription refills however. Yesterday is a case in point.

Months ago I got one of those notices in the mail for free warranty work on (another) part of my car... my 2013 model car. I'm not even going to bother asking why it took them this long to figure out there was a problem with the ABS braking system. I mean, 12 years? How many crashes did it take to figure it out? Basically I don't put myself in situations, whenever possible, that I need to brake that hard. I'm told when you use it, it kind of jerks you to a stop so you don't just go sliding/skidding down the road. I'm taking their word for it. That should tell you how often I (never) use it. 

And yes, I realize that in winter it's especially important to avoid skidding, which is why I drive the way I do and don't rely on the car's gadgets to get me out of a bind. So, late January, I finally called for an appointment to get the free work done. My work hours had finally settled down enough that such appointments could be made and kept. It also helped that because it's late January, the super cold wind chills while I stand and hold my hatch door up while store staff loads groceries into my car. Brrrrrrrrr! I figured so long as I'm doing one thing I should do both, and maybe check on a third to find out why my car is leaking or burning oil. That's not a guarantee to immediately fix whatever, just find out a cost and then decide.

The car dealership is over a 70 mile round trip. (The one 12 miles away closed years ago.) I love that they have a large, enclosed, warm drive-through bay to wait in while they check you in and make sure what you asked for over the phone is what you really wanted. This is where the "fun" happens, and a little honesty pokes out through the frustration one employee has with another employee who didn't quite get their job done correctly.

My hatch door got opened, and heads and hands poked around in exploration while they tried to figure out what the exact problem was. Nevermind that I'd already told them, both over the phone and  again just then in person, that the hydraulics which hold it open no longer work due to AZ dry heat wreaking havoc on rubber over a dozen years. You can see it on the gaskets on the doors too, or how fast wiper blades fall apart. The employees seemed, however, to be taking an extraordinarily long time sussing that out. This is where the climate control while I sit in my car with the doors open is really appreciated.

What I finally heard is that they were trying, by looking and poking all around, to find the electrical parts which allow me to raise and close my hatch door from the front seat. 

Uhhhh, seriously? On a cheap little 2013 hatchback? They were maybe on the market back when it was made, but were only in high end cars when they first came out. My then $15,000 car was and is a far cry from high end. Dependable as heck, just not high end. And as one employee who returned to me with the "news" complained, they already had my VIN on record, both for the warranty work and for me being a repeat customer from previous warranty work, all they'd had to do would have been look it up and find out what parts comprised the hatch door parts that held it open until some hand physically pulled it back down! THERE WERE NO ELECTRONICS TO FIND, MUCH LESS REPLACE !!!

The result of their not checking before I drove in is that the needed parts were not on hand.  My ABS braking system now works, I'm told, not that I plan to check it. But my hatch still needs me to hold it open while stuff goes in/out. Or, once I get home, putting Steve's sturdy walking stick's rubber tip down on the floor and the top in a little recess in the door where fingers normally go for a grip while it gets opened or closed. So long as nobody jostles the stick bottom, it's possible for me, all alone, to pull all the groceries - or whatever - out before removing the stick and letting it drop. As in SLAM! and be sure your head and hands are not still in the way! The last grocery loader, despite being warned, got a shock at how fast it dropped last week once I let go, finally sure he was out of the way. 

Who knew his semi-sleepy eyes could open that wide? Ahh, to be so young, so much to still discover!

Anyway, they ordered parts at the dealership, guaranteed to be there today. Just no telling what time today, so don't bother making an appointment till tomorrow. With my work schedule that means Friday afternoon. There were a couple more "little" things to fix while I'm there, including the source of the oil leak, which turned out to be much cheaper than a replacement engine. I did decline their offer to replace a wiper blade for me - which still works I noted  - as well as the cabin air filter.  It's dirty, but the first couple times I just pull it out, whack it hard two or three times against something like a wastebasket to clear 90% of the dirt out and replace it behind the glove box. Easy peasy. All in all, the bill will be something around $800, but I'm good with that. Like I said, cheaper than a new engine, and a new guarantee of no longer getting bopped on the head for using the hatch. That actually started - very intermittently - a year ago, and just got really bad in the winter weather. But I've lost count of how many head bonks I've gotten, and am heartily tired of having to go hold it open in wind chill temps to get groceries loaded, or of people, even after being warned it needs to be held, finding out the hard way in their rush that I wasn't exaggerating.

But boy, they better have the correct parts Friday when I arrive this time!

Rx Refill? Say What?

 You've read the previous one on this topic. This is the addendum, same topic, same pills.

So... like me you might think a refill promised to be filled on a Thursday afternoon would actually be ready...late Saturday morning. Right?

Wrong!

I'd called in a grocery order to be picked up by 11:00, and picked it up outside by 11:00. Of course this meant I had to exit the car and physically hold the hatch door up while he put my items in the large bags I'd brought. Note that this included a request, once he'd loaded 5 loaves of bread in one, to please not put the jars on top of them! I might have worded that better, because he left the already loaded ones in place on top of the bread, but started a new bag with the next bunches of jars. (And he wondered why I asked him if he was new in this job!) I had already explained to him that I needed to hold the hatch up the whole time he was in/out of the car, and why. So once I verified he was all finished loading, I let go. You should have seen his eyes pop at how fast it dropped! (Yep, he's new. And young.)

BTW, it's going to the dealership Tuesday to get both that fixed and some warranty work completed. The car is a 2013 model and still is cashing in on new warranty work notices. This one is something  on the ABS braking system. I wouldn't know they needed work, since I almost never have to brake hard, keeping plenty of space between me and whatever is ahead. I only wish the hydraulics on the hatch were a warranty item. The bill should be... interesting. My luck, come spring they'll decide to cover those.

Since the weather was cold enough that I had no worries about frozen items thawing in the car, I then drove to the pharmacy side entrance and went in for that pick-up. A short wait later I found out they still weren't ready. However they were "in the cue", so please feel free to do more shopping and come back. (Anybody tell these characters that the shopping there ain't free? No matter how much I'd love to feel it's free while shopping?) So I went and picked up the pizza we plan to bribe Paul with to come over tonight with his tools and drill three holes for Steve's newest project. Then I picked up what Steve needed to use those holes for. It's a good thing it's as cold as it is because when I returned to the pharmacy, the line was another 20 minutes long, even with three people handling the counter. Still, I told myself it was better than waiting till March 16!

My pills were finally ready by then. In fact I got the call while waiting in that second line. When I get home I'm going to need to read the fine print on my Part D Medicare new plan. I just switched companies. I have never yet finished buying enough meds in a year that I ran through the deductible period and started getting actual coverage for meds, which in its own way is a good thing. But there must be some kind of a hitch, because today's Rx was no charge!

That can't be what she meant when she told me to "feel free to go shopping...."!

Refill... Maybe

 It was time on one of my pills. I had enough left to get me through next Tuesday. This is Thursday, and late January - though these posts are dated so you could see that for yourselves. But it becomes relevant.

Ever since we've moved here it's been a fight with the store's system. It's automated, and its first priority is not filling pill orders, but instead not bothering the human staff. Usually these lines are set up so one calls in, says or punches in the number on the label, and you get an automated reply that it will be two or three days. It's a national system, and usually worked smoothly for us, whichever state we lived in, whichever state we called to refill from. We were snowbirds for a dozen years, after all.

These guys haven't been "normal" since we got here. In a bitter stroke of humor we still got reminder calls from our AZ pharmacy that we were now permitted to refill A, B, and G, or this time maybe D and L, just press the pound button. Of course they'd be ready in three days... in AZ! 

No thanks. No, really!

First, the bottle numbers did not transfer across all those state lines. We needed a human who could check out us, our history from AZ, and the computers would have had the information on dosage, number of refills, how many to take, insurance coverage, and everything else needed. For six months we had to figure out how to get through the automated system to reach a "Human". "Representative". "Pharmacist". "Real Person". ("Long string of loud cuss words!") Nope, blocked every time. But there was an app....

Hey, stupid machine, I don't do apps. My little flip phone isn't made for apps. I'm not made for apps.

We had to literally drive the 12.2 miles to the pharmacy to show them the old bottle at the counter to get a refill. Since they were originally prescribed at different times, they refilled at different times. Lots of trips. Gradually, we each had "only" three refill dates in each 90 day period. Various bottles had a different number of pills left, and we didn't waste them, but could call in several orders now at once.

Except....

The new orders still came across with AZ numbers on the bottles, despite informing our pharmacy this was a permanent relocation, XYZ just a few miles away was our new doctor authorizing them. So we still had to fight with the automated system. I finally got tired of yelling at a stupid machine and was relieved to discover that I could get a human if I claimed I was wishing to "transfer a prescription". Some genius in the company figured out their machine couldn't handle that complicated chore, nor could their app.

Eventually despite getting a human on the line, we were hearing we were out of refills. Say what? It seems our Arizona clinic quit authorizing them! With all the struggles to get the things, and despite having informed the new pharmacy that XYZ was our new doctor, they kept sending the requests to AZ. And perfectly properly, the doc there, not having seen nor heard from us for oh so many months, put their foot down and stopped authorizing refills. Meanwhile the MN authorizations were all there in the local pharmacy records, just ignored.

Having at long last gotten all that straightened out in the last couple months, you might think everything was smooth sailing.

Come on, would I be writing this is it were?

Finally having bottles with numbers on them in the local system, I made the call in this morning for my latest needed refill. The number was accepted. Great! My order will be ready to pick on on March 16.

WTF? MARCH?

You better believe I punched  "2" for "No, I can't frigging wait that bleeping long!" The machine immediately offered me the ability to pick them up tomorrow after 4 PM. 

This time I punched "1" for "yes, that's fine." When I head over to pick them up, I plan on mentioning the details of the call to whoever waits on me at the counter. By then it just might seem funny. Well, unless their other 2043 customers calling in refill orders today got the same glitch.

ROTFLMAO !!! You Thought I Was Going To Answer The Phone?

Oh My, how optimistic of you. Or perhaps obligated. Even maybe delusional?

But don't take it personally. I have no idea who you were or why you would call. But let me explain.

I'd just gotten into the car and got it started. My PCA client was just getting in, and I was taking them to an appointment they couldn't miss or be late for, with about a three minute window of error, best case. I don't do blue tooth, so there was no way to speak while driving and be legal in this state. That applies to everybody who calls while I'm driving, of course.

But today was extra special. Now, it had warmed up to 14 below by this time - I checked a bit later -  and the sun was finally out, though still low enough straight in front of me to still blind me, so no leeway for visibility adjustments. I did hear your phone call, as did my client. But it's still more complicated than that.

First, I had my knit driving gloves on because the steering wheel and other controls were still much too cold to touch with bare skin. I do have ski gloves along, but those are even clunkier when driving and I try to save wearing those for situations with even more risk of frostbite. At that moment they were inside my purse. It happened to be on the seat behind me, even if I wanted to get to them, which I didn't. And no, my phone wasn't in there at that time.

I didn't know exactly where my phone was when you called. I was well bundled, in multiple layers, knowing the car would in no way be anything resembling "warm" even once I'd finished delivering my client and got back to my home parking spot to head inside. Now that outer layer was my new down coat. Being new, it's still pretty stiff, and the huge plastic zipper even more so in the cold, as well as being under extra wide flaps with huge buttons. Maybe in a couple more years it will be easier to crinkle up and move around in, but right now it's a bit of a pain, even requiring assistance getting in and out of some days, even doubling down on that at current temperatures.

Under that layer is a polar fleece top, one I've treasured for over a dozen years, snuggly warm, but in general adding more bulk to my layers. Inside that is a knit shirt with a warm collar because that's one spot the other layers tend to not quite cover. 

Below that is a fairly new, thick, warm pair of sweat pants, and while irrelevant to the story, some really tall and snug wool socks, a brand you'd recognize as made for the outdoor working man in weather like today's is. Including other necessary pieces of wardrobe, I was pretty well encased, still able to drive safely, not inclined to exerting myself for extraneous movements with all the bundling, like hunting for a phone. It's difficult enough to reach down and push hard on the seat belt release even after I stop, (whatever happened to release levers on seat belts?)  and since I was going to continue driving for some miles, that was not about to happen. Not till I got home again.

However, unlocking that seatbelt would have been a necessary part of answering my phone.  I wasn't exactly sure where said phone was warmly snuggled at that moment. Now that unwieldy down coat has two very nice pockets, closed securely against loss of contents by big, plastic, stiff zippers. The polar fleece under that has a wide, low pouch, stretching across my whole front and covering from navel to hem. It sits, of course, very snuggly under the down coat under the seatbelt. While the shirt with the collar has no pockets, it and the other layers are long enough to cover the two pockets in the sweat pants, since I particularly look, long and hard, for women's sweat pants which have pockets on the sides of the hips, as these did. I liked them so much I bought two pair at the same time. Pockets are a treasure in sweatpants.

So to sum it up for you, my phone could easily have been in any of the five pockets, in any of four stacked layers, all of which were under a not-to-be-disturbed seat belt for at least 20 minutes. While I was busy driving. While the car was still very cold.  While my errand was quite time-sensitive. When my hands were prevented from even sensing, should I have hunted, which of those pockets might actually hold something, much less determine if that something was shaped like a phone. And which, even if they were capable of locating the phone, would in no way have been able to pull it out and open it up and touch the correct button to answer it and do it legally.

And you thought I was going to answer your call? 

Oh! My! God!!!!!!! Seriously????

Ever consider a different job than telemarketing? After all, I did find my phone to check that number later, though I'm not telling you which pocket.  It might have been an important call. It still wouldn't have been answered... then. But by now, surely.

Now this has been fun, but I'm going to go warm up with a lap robe before lunch. It should be three degrees warmer then for my next driving errand. 

Go ahead and try your luck calling then too if you wish. I'll hear the ring. I can use another laugh.

Recovering

 We think it was a bit of food poisoning.  Yes, we know the norovirus is going around, but this didn't have the same symptoms. and for once in a rare while, we'd just eaten the same supper. After a couple days, some internet research provided more information that fit both what we'd eaten and our symptoms, so we know what to avoid and better how to treat it next time.

Of course, a purge didn't cure what ailed us. Even the weight loss is sure to be temporary, darn it! Our energy was low, and the extra cold temperatures with worse on the way kept us inactive, as well as a bit pessimistic about the immediate future. Our guts weren't exactly in shape to recharge our energy, and there was nowhere that needed us to get there. The Vikes - as expected because they're the Vikes - were out of the playoffs so that distraction was gone, but the house was clean and with no more entertaining to be done, stayed that way.

Much of our energy was devoted to catching up on the sleep which we'd been too uncomfortable to do earlier. Some reading was done... so long as it wasn't too complicated. The science and political stuff I like to dive into seemed to be blending together into either incomprehensible or repetitious mush for a few days, and a lot of TV reruns took over for distractions. Some favorites on the tube had new episodes, and we both made progress handling the new system of remotes so things responded better to forced new habits. We even had a new one arrive in the mail after the old one refused to change the volume, in either direction. If they didn't  work, or we didn't work them correctly, "OFF" was a frequent option, with a little more shut-eye welcomed, provided a few more layers were piled on. Thicker, warmer layers were located, rather than pushing the thermostat higher, since the latest bill had arrived and took an extra hundred out of the monthly budget. Next month looks to do the same, if the forecasts are accurate, before we can hope for relief. 

Today the plan is to resume old habits. First will be getting out of the house and, provided the car works at these new low temperatures of -17 now and -26 tomorrow, go back to work. Otherwise I'll be taking more time off, since this car has no tank heater, never did, and we have no idea what its tolerance for the super cold is. We do know for sure that the hydraulics for the back hatch are fubar in the cold, and they require replacement as soon as I can both schedule the work and get the car to the dealership. I also can't open the oil tank even with pliers in this cold. I just bought a crescent wrench last week hoping its larger size would give more leverage, but it's been too cold to check. On the plus side, my client does have alternate transportation provided by others who live in a world with garages if my car refuses to budge for a few days, so I won't be leaving them in the lurch. And Steve hasn't heard yet about scheduling his surgery, though our hopes were raised for that happening soon a couple weeks ago.

Will we be watching the inauguration on TV today? I'm sure that we each have "a thing" that needs attention elsewhere, whether or not the car works. Perhaps two. Steve called in a grocery order plus some meds to be refilled, so we're really hoping the car runs at least today. The house has power so we can cook something we'll feel like eating, as that's still a bit iffy occasionally while our systems are trying to reset themselves, and no sense trying to disrupt them further for politics today. Additionally, soon my brain needs to be in good working order to work over the phone with the person who gave me a present that needs to be installed - whatever that means, aside from needing my best alert brain - into either my laptop or the TV - I'm not sure of which yet. The jargon will be  unfamiliar to me while second nature to their generation, always intimidating. So yes, I'm sure we'll have a thing somewhere else to be done at the time that needs our attention instead. We're neither of us 100% yet, so no point pushing our recovery, right?

Meanwhile, I need coffee, and a bit of protein and some carbs. Those are in abundant supply. We stocked the house up with plans to have to figure out - again - how to deal with MN winters. Mostly it was by pretending for a few months that outside doesn't exist.

If You Had To Flee In A Hurry

The California wildfires are, luckily for us here in sub-zero (at the moment) Minnesota, far away and unlikely in our near future. However, there are always circumstance which could make having to leave home in a huge emergency our only option for survival. I'm sure you all can think of something that would drive you out of your own home to save your lives.

As Steve and I watched the coverage, we spent some time thinking about what needed to go with us. What's irreplaceable? What's possible, given age and health?

A presupposition to having any choice at all is that we'd be awake and dressed for whatever weather is outside. If that weren't so, there's very little point in making further plans. Imagine waking up to a house fire when one needs 5 minutes to dress, find shoes, and maybe locate the car keys... this time. Oh, and where's the wallet or purse which carries your credit cards and IDs? After arriving in MN during our move last year with most of our important documents packed with the rest of our possessions and sitting 1800 miles away, the importance of having certain ones of those at hand was driven home. You need the car, the car needs gas, gas needs money in some form. For a bed to sleep in, you either need somebody who'll take you in, or again, money, as well as ID if a motel is your answer.

Since we're not in a location that suggests disasters can happen at any moment, a go-bag isn't sitting by the door waiting to be used. Were wildfires close, that would change and the must-have list would change. If we had floods forecast, or earthquakes likely, or major rioting happening, they'd be packed and ready... enough. Some would already be in the car.

But assume the very unexpected nightmare was imminent. Minutes only were allowed. What has to be taken with you?

We came up with two things for each of us. First, our laptops. Charging cables would be optional, as they're replaceable. But our lives are on those laptops, from family photos to information on contacting other people to medical info to financial info. For some of us, cell phones would be just as important, but those are usually in the same places and fit in a pocket or purse on our pass through.

The second thing, for us with our health histories and the variety of medications that keep our quality of life as good as possible at our ages, would be grabbing all those meds to take as well. While our pharmacies do keep records of what we need and when, that doesn't mean one can wait perhaps 5 days to find one far enough from whatever made us flee, yet also be quickly accessible as well as in a network to track our history and have a supply on hand  that insurance can cover on an emergency basis.  Steve would have to grab a large bag of his bottles, not too far from where his laptop sits. I'd have to raid my organized stockpile in the bathroom (which I'd be sure to have used by then) and dump them in a bag to bring along. There are always extra bags nearby, so not a big deal. I could even dump out the wastebasket liner and fill it with meds as a last resort. Who cares at that point if litter is left behind? Somebody's going to come in behind me and tsk tsk how dirty my dirt is?

This scenario is one time I think we're lucky that my allergies took over, forcing us not to keep pets that would need to be rounded up and removed, with all the chaos they'd likely be going through at the same time. That's a likely recipe for tragedy, either theirs as they hid, or ours as we stayed too long and searched.

With more warning, more time, more things could be salvaged. But those are just things. The loss would hurt. But we would recover. I already have secondary lists for "in case". But we know now what is most important, after each other.  We have a plan.

Do you?

Car Maintenance In The Time Of Frostbite

It's January in Minnesota, and even the southern part of the state is getting some below zero readings on their thermometers, and worse with factoring in wind chill. Yes, we returned north to that, even while hoping climate change might take effect locally a wee bit speedier in honor of our arrival.

January does not mean staying home, cocooned away in some warm building, reading, watching TV, sunbathing.....  Wait! What? I said Minnesota, not southern Florida!

Since one still gets out and about, despite all best intentions, the car has to be taken care of just like the rest of the year. Only now it's a nasty job. For a lot of things I try to remain independent, though I haven't changed a tire since I retired (the first time. The second is out somewhere in the future.) One thing I have to keep an eye on is my oil level for the engine. It has started either leaking or burning oil. It's likely I'm burning it since the car doesn't leave greasy puddles... unless I make them while pouring oil. Oops.

Adaptations have had to be made, given what I can/can't do these days without difficulty exacerbated by pain. Once the hood release is pulled, I need to work it up over my shoulder to hold it without raising the arm, thus transferring the weight over to my torso and legs. I can shift its position bit by bit so I'm now able to reach and release the thingy which holds the hood up for me. (Yes, I'm sure it has a name. I am not going to bother to look it up.) It pulls off by going sideways, then I guide it down to fit in a notch in the frame. Easy peasy as long as my arms don't have to hold the weight simultaneously.

In fact shifting the strength requirement to my legs instead of arms is how tires get changed, stepping/jumping on the lug wrench to move it in the right direction. But that's not what's getting done now. In fact this car came new with no jack, lug wrench, or spare! Guess who's been lucky for a dozen years! These days tire changes mean buying a new set, needed twice now in its life. I let the tire company have all that fun.

Back to the engine oil, I keep bottles in the hatch. Periodically I check the dip stick and add what's needed. When it's warm outside, the process works well. My hands don't have the strength to twist open and remove the plug so I can add oil, but I thought I'd taken care of that when it was warm. Unfortunately, that's exactly what I did - solved the problem as it presented in warm weather. To do that I had to get a small pliers to grip the top ridge of the plug to twist it by, and borrowed one of my jewelry tools to do the job. Perfect! Except when it's zero outside. No way in Pluto's heat-deprived hell was that going to work in a sub-zero morning, and I knew by the time I'd given up trying that oil was definitely needed before driving to Minneapolis and back for a doctor's appointment for Steve.

I had to find a different way to add oil. So of course I did. After all, what measures oil levels has to connect directly to the oil supply, right? I already knew the dip stick moved easily, since it just told me how much oil I needed. I'd add it there!

Luckily we have a (new) set of funnels in a variety of mostly-unnecessary sizes. I dug through to find the one with the smallest bottom to fit - hopefully - into the narrow tube the dipstick used. It actually went in, enough to hold it straight in the tube instead of falling out. Of course its top was correspondingly small, holding about three tablespoons of oil while it slowly drained down.

Very slowly.

In below zero wind chill.

With no room for padded gloves added to my hands to still fit in the space while the oil drained down. Brrrr.....

Still slowly.

For all 8 refills.

Since that was all my hands could tolerate, it will get repeated tomorrow. Maybe even again until I know enough has spread out all over to lubricate the engine. I figure that the "again" might wait till the weekend. It will be warmer then. 

They promised. 

The "heat" might come with snow. So the lingering job will likely be wet as well. But I probably can avoid frostbite... maybe... if I decide I'm willing to risk getting dirty oil and other miscellaneous under-the-hood car dirt on my new down coat.

Maybe I should have bought it in black.

Next time. Though I do have a dirty old denim coat with great pockets that could get slathered in automotive grease/dirt and I wouldn't give it a second thought. It's great for, say, working outside in 40 degrees. Unfortunately those would have to be above zero.

Sighhhhhh.........

So What's With The Glut Of UFO Nonsense?

 I will be sticking with "nonsense" in this post. Most of the stories I'm seeing could, perhaps would, have been front page on the "rags" next to check out counters. I don't even notice if those exist anymore, and if they're still at the counters, I ignore whatever the covers blare at potential customers. Even if they're so ridiculous they might make me laugh, it's a hard no. Call it mental censorship.

But suddenly the stories are all over the place. Let's start a couple years back with pilots supposedly having video from their cockpits of "TicTac" like UFOs following their planes, suddenly making right angle turns at speed, dropping into the water of the ocean without slowing or splashing. If one could believe them, they'd be amazing, some kind of technology way above us at this point. But... CGI. It exists. I haven't the skills to duplicate that kind of video, but I've seen it in theaters. You likely have as well.

There are alleged brown skulls that have the huge eye holes in the face that would do any alien-party role player in Roswell, New Mexico proud to wear... except it wouldn't fit over their heads. Thank goodness there's flimsy plastic white ones for sale there, eh? Meanwhile, I look at those photos and think "movie prop." Any human with the skill set and a streak of mischief could have manufactured one. So, proof of nothing alien, unless you judge the mindset of such a designer/manufacturer to be "alien" - to you at least. Maybe not even so alien if making it came with the right price tag. I bet they could do T-Rex skulls too, or super giant King Kong ones. Heck, I'm sure they already have. We've seen those movies too.

It used to be the stories were about abductions and surgeries to find out the internal anatomy of helpless victims. Somehow those folks always managed to arrive back on earth, a "big chunk of weird", but somehow scar free and with a deep thirst for whatever was served in the local bar... on somebody else's tab of course, since telling long stories is thirsty work.

The flavor of the stories has morphed again. The most recent ones are alleged to be from some previous administration's has-been, spouting secrets about how jets at 40,000 feet are stopped and held stationary for a bit before being safely released to continue to wherever. Or our moon walking astronauts either never arrived but the "proof" was set up by resident moon aliens who somehow knew how to get all the details right, or our astronauts did arrive and were being observed by aliens while hiking around on the moon. No doubt those aliens were waiting to see what was going to happen to the neighborhood now that some "wrong color" new neighbors were starting to show up with big reflective heads, and wondering how they'd affect property values. Was it time for them to move further out to the suburbs... of Mars?

Conspiracy theories abound around these stories. Maybe they're waiting for us to overheat this planet and make it perfect for their next colony? Or they're in league with (pick an enemy, real or fever dream) and will reveal themselves as they start to round us up for dinner - theirs, not ours. Maybe they have the "fix" for what makes us (fill in the blank with your favorite flaw) and with enough study will step up and rescue the deserving of us from the flawed rest of us. Note that nobody ever manages to come up with a reason for them wanting to rescue us. I figure that last is just our own desperation and unwillingness to change speaking.

I suggest a more plausible conspiracy. The actual humans who wish to take control of the entire planet have figured out that fear, especially irrational amorphous fear, can make us do just about anything. We'll attack anybody "other", align with whatever silly improbably hope seems to be offered, believe almost anything without question. All this combined would prompt a vast majority of us to cede our own thought processes to a leader, do whatever is "required", and enable such a professed hero/leader to do whatever the hell they want to whomever the hell they want for as long as they just keep us afraid and make promises for improvement.

If you have trouble accepting that concept, tell me how recent elections around the world are NOT proof it's already being done. No aliens necessary, of course. Sorry if that spoiled it for you.

How To Get Haunted

 Or maybe this should be "how to haunt somebody." It's a "Concept of a Plan."

I was joking with a friend online earlier that I've never actually met in person, and who's now in hospice, about seeing my crocus when they bloom this next spring. It started with a notation by me that now that the snow had again melted, the tips of last fall's crocus bulbs were poking through the dirt by between a  quarter and eighth of an inch, and really needed snow again to protect them with the expected sub-zero weather coming up. He replied with the assumption that they would be yellow, to which I countered with a list of all the colors I had ordered them in, some of which I'd never seen in a crocus before, like orange or blue.

Both of us know he won't be leaving Arizona for Minnesota to see them in bloom. It's not necessarily his expected life span, as he's been holding on for a nice while now. Even my dad hung in there with official hospice status for eleven months, and I've heard of both longer and shorter stays by different folks.  In his case not traveling that far is guaranteed by his health concerns and difficulty in any mobility. Travel of any sort isn't happening. I'm not sure he even makes it to see his doctor, as a nurse pops in to visit him regularly. The nurse is the go-between for things like a change in medications, in addition to tending immediate needs.  Anyway, he's already been sticking around for longer than he initially expected. The positive is his mind is sound, he spends time researching a specific climate change topic, and he still has - at least occasionally - his sense of humor. Some days it's rare, but it hasn't fully deserted him.

I told him that we wouldn't know till April the actual colors the crocus the crocus would bloom in. But then, a few practicalities occurred to me, and I shared those with him.

"We'll have to see what's left from what the squirrels dug up to eat. This means, of course, to find out you have to stick around till April.  : ) That, or figure out how to haunt me as a ghost. So-o-o... first you have to believe you can be a ghost, then manifest as one, then figure out that you'd want to bother with haunting anybody, then whether that might be me, then figure out how to find somebody you've never met.... I suppose there's a part in there where  you'd have to decide if it's worth all that energy! LOL "

His answer was prompt:  "Cute, me a ghost? Why not? :-))) "

I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Meanwhile I expect we'll continue to correspond almost daily, sharing thoughts about the world, politics, climate, personal history and experiences, philosophies about life and death and what has meaning, etc. We'll continue till it can't.