A Bit of Trivia for the Holidays

Useless trivia…but is it, really? I often wonder that when I find myself becoming fascinated by odd factoids. Sometimes I wonder if I should actually be allowing such useless knowledge into my brain. What in the world am I going to do with it? For example…

I’ve always been fascinated by the career of Tony Burrows. Except for one person I know (who probably doesn’t read this blog), I imagine you are wondering, “Who the heck is Tony Burrows?” Exactly! He is the most famous anonymous rock and roll singer you have ever heard! Why?

You may not know the name Tony Burrows, but if you were listening to pop music in the spring of 1970, you know his voice. In a three-month period, Burrows was the lead singer on four different hit records by four different groups.

Music Monday: Tony Burrows, the Five-Time One-Hit Wonder.

Tony Burrows, now age 79, is a British singer who had an outstanding career as a studio musician. Here are the songs that Tony sang lead on that you probably have heard and know. We’ll begin with the four hits from the Spring of 1970. Enjoy!

Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes by Edison Lighthouse (1970). Reached #1 on the UK Top 40 on January 31, 1970 and stayed there for five weeks. It dropped off the UK Top 40 on April 18, 1970. In the U.S., it went to #5 on the T0p 40 of Billboard’s Hot 100 on March 28. It would eventually go to #1 in Ireland and New Zealand, #2 in Australia, and #3 in Canada and South Africa. In the U.S. it was the #40 biggest hit of 1970.
United We Stand by The Brotherhood of Man (1970). By March of 1970 “United We Stand” was on the Top 40 charts. It went to #10 in the UK, #13 in the US, #8 in Australia, #9 in Canada it was rated the 64th biggest hit of 1970 in the U.S.
My Baby Love Lovin by White Plains (1970). Released on January 9, 1970, this song went to #4 in Canada, #8 in South Africa, #9 in Ireland and the UK and #13 in the US on Billboard’s Hot 100 list. For the year, it came it at #62 in the US. Actually, it seemed it went much higher than this in the US. At least, that’s how it seemed to me and my friends as we “cruised” Morning Sun, Iowa in the Winter of 1970 and listened to Larry Lujack on Chicago’s best radio station of that era…WLS.
Gimme Dat Ding (from American Bandstand) by the Pipkins (1970). This was a novelty song that featured Tony Burrow’s singing with a raspy, gravelly voice. In March 1979 it became a bonifide hit. It went to #1 in New Zealand, #6 in the UK, #7 in Canada and Ireland, #8 in the Netherlands, and #9 on the US Hot 100 from Billboard. Weirdly, it went to #20 in the US on Billboards Easy Listening chart. Hmmmm… Overall, in 1970 it ranked #86 on the US Hot 100.

Also in 1970, Tony Burrows came out with his own solo song, Melanie Makes Me Smile. It became a minor hit for Burrows in 1970 in the US, going to #87 on the Hot 100. It was the only hit under Burrow’s own name.

One of my favorites, that I didn’t realize Burrows sang until very recently, is Beach Baby by The First Class (1974). Tony was the lead singer for this studio group and on the record but did not appear on television with The First Class (let’s hear it for lipsyncing)! The recording did very well. It went to #1 in Canada, #4 in the US, and #13 in the UK. Its overall rank in the US in 1974 was #94.

So, there you have it! See, a great bit of “useless” trivia you can use to amaze and astound your friends over the holidays! Please do! For me, there is nothing more interesting than these odd bits of knowledge.

Ah, but is this really “useless” trivia? Frankly, no, I don’t think so. You’d be amazed how many times I have drawn upon such factoids to break the ice with people and start the process of relationship building.

Happy holidays!


In memoriam: This one is for my lifelong friend, Mark Keltner, who loved a good 1957 Chevy (the ultimate cruising car), fixing cars of all kinds, Pam and his family, building extraordinary dirt track race cars, driving and winning races and track championships, and rock and roll. Except for Ebay, where he could buy car parts cheaply, he hated using computers so he would have never seen this anyway. Whether on trikes when we were 3 year olds, foot races in grade school, or any athletic competition in junior high and high school – he won, usually beating me badly. He also beat me into this world by exactly three months on January 24, 1954. He also won the last race we’d ever have. He left this world much too soon on December 14, 2021. Rest in peace, MK41.

A Complicated Patient – Part 2

It’s been a while, eh? Yeah, I know. I haven’t had the chance to do much driveling recently. I had good intentions of posting before this but…well, you know…stuff happens and the next thing you know it is the last weekend of October and you find yourself prioritizing stocking up on Trick or Treat candy.

This year I worked especially hard to convince Clemencia that we really needed to stock up. (Snickers is my…uh…Trick or Treater’s favorites.) I built a flawless case for having two or three bags of Snicker’s ready to go for the big night. I was masked up and ready to go to Shopper’s Food Warehouse to pick them up when she asked: So, how many Trick or Treaters are you expecting?

  • “Oh, quite a few,” I said.
  • “Like, how many?” she pressed.
  • “You know, a LOT,” I pressed back.
  • “Uh huh,” she said with way too much skepticism in her voice. “And where are these Trick or Treaters going to come from since this is a 55+ active adult community and no children live in our building?”
  • “Oh, everywhere,” I said. “From all over Laurel. You know, the whole town is not a 55+ community.”
  • “Uh, huh,” she said again with even more skepticism than before. “And mi amor, how are they going to actually get into our condo building? You know you have to have a key or a code to get in the lobby door.”

Okay, so maybe my plan wasn’t flawless. Alas, I will be sans Snickers on All Hallow’s Eve.


Now to Part 2 of A Complicated Patient

You may remember that I posted a long blog about my lateral whackalectomy back on July 4, 2021. I really thought that was the end of it. I even shared the blog with Dr. B, the surgeon, at my post-surgical checkup in August. She laughed as she read it which I took as a good sign.

Then I got a bill for $227.11. My first thought was that maybe Dr. B didn’t find the blog as funny as I imagined she had. Upon closer examination, I realized it was a charge from the Famous Local Hospital where the surgery was performed. It was very unclear what the charge covered.

Since the expense had been denied by my insurance company, I called the hospital billing department to learn more. The person I spoke with was helpful. I learned the hospital had coded the expense as a “self-administrable drug” which she described as a wound “packing” that the surgeon puts into a surgical wound to help stop bleeding. Since I was unconscious and intubated at the time this “self-administrable drug” was inserted into my wound, I asked her how it could be considered “self-administered.” She said she didn’t know but that is how it was coded.

I called my insurance provider. I explained to the insurance provider what I had been told by the hospital. I also explained that to the best of my knowledge the only “self-administrable drug” provided was a prescription for five (only five) oxycodone for pain (which I never used). The insurance customer service person was helpful. He said, “You know, I’m not sure why they coded it that way. I’m thinking if they re-code it and submit it again we’d probably pay for it.

Back to the hospital billing department. My call went to voicemail so I went to the secure patient portal and sent this note, encouraged by the promise that they would respond within 3 business days.

Hi folks,

My bill shows a fee of $227.11 for which I am responsible. My insurance company indicates this was reported to them as a “self-administrable drug” by Famous Local Hospital. A Famous Local Hospital billing department representative tells me it was specifically for a “gelatin sponge” material that was inserted in my surgical wound while still on the table to minimize bleeding.

This clearly seems to be part of a surgical procedure (which is hardly “self-administrable.” ­čÖé ).

I do not know if this was coded as a “self-administrable drug” by error or if that is standard procedure. In either case, the coding does not seem to fit the procedure. Primarily I would appreciate it if you would re-submit it to Insurance Provider with a different billing code as they might reconsider payment on the charge if it were resubmitted under a different billing code. If this doesn’t cover it, and since Famous Local Hospital is referring to this as a “drug,” then it seems reasonable to submit it to my prescription drug insurance provider. Thank you for your consideration.

August 18, 2021

I did not get a response within three business days. In fact, a month later, on September 13, 2021, I sent the same message under this topic heading: “STILL waiting for a response to this inquiry.” Then, ten days later on September 23, 2021, I sent the same message again but with this topic heading: “No response, no payment.” I included this introductory paragraph:

I’m still waiting for a response to this message sent on August 18th, 2021 and again on September 23. These previous inquiries have been viewed so I assume they are being ignored. I will be ignoring future bills until I receive a reply and explanation.

September 23, 2021

Finally, I got a call from someone at the Famous Local Hospital billing department. She told me she would send me an itemized bill and I could submit on my own.

  • “Uh, what good would that do me if you don’t recode the expense?” I asked.
  • “We can’t recode it. You have to submit as it is,” the person replied.
  • “Why can’t you recode it?” I asked.
  • No response from the person except to say, “I’ve just sent you the itemized bill.”

And, indeed, it appeared in my secure patient portal as an itemized bill. Since nothing had changed and I was not given any coherent reason, I decided not to pay and let them call me back, in the fullness of their accounting time, to try to collect it from me.

They did…in early October. This time I got a person who seemed a bit more logical and flexible:

  • “Are you refusing or unable to pay?” she asked.
  • “No, not at all,” I said, “but I don’t think I should have to pay. This was not submitted to my insurance provider with the proper code.”
  • “What makes you think that?” she asked.
  • “My insurance company told me that. That was the likely reason it was denied it. It was for a surgical procedure that I could not have performed on myself,” I explained.
  • “What do you mean?” she asked.
  • “Well, here’s the deal. I was under general anesthesia, I was intubated, and even if I had been conscious, I would have had to be a contortionist to insert the packing into the wound myself. Therefore, how can this be considered a “self-administrable drug.”
  • There was a long silence. Finally, she said, “You know, my colleague did send you an itemized bill and you can submit it yourself.”
  • “Yes, I could,” I said, “and it would still be denied because of how it has been coded.”
  • Another long silence. “I think I should send this up to my supervisor,” she finally said.
  • “I think that’s a great idea” I affirmed.

So, you see, I remain a complicated patient and I remain waiting for a response and resolution. Yes, there will be a Part 3. Oh, and have you heard about the new self-administrable kidney transplant?


In Other News

After I post this blog, I am deleting my Facebook, Instagram, and What’s App accounts. As the bit of t-shirt wisdom says, “I’ve got one nerve left and you’re getting on it.” The mounting evidence of Facebook’s complicity in fomenting incivility, the growth of hate groups, sexism, racism, violence, and even insurrection against our country has, for me, reached a tipping point. Also, I’m not convinced the “insurrection” on January 6th wasn’t actually an act of “treason.” As the investigations move forward, I wonder if we will learn more that could result in a reclassification of that event.

My decision to finally leave was based on two things that I read. First, my son’s own Facebook post explaining why he was leaving the platform. His reasoning was personal, powerful, and flawless. He accused Facebook of failing to fulfill its promise to bring people closer together. I agree. We are a very divided country in many regards right now and Facebook has made a substantial contribution to creating and maintaining it. I’m sorry you cannot read his post now…his Facebook account is gone.

The second thing I read was a blog shared with me by a colleague. It is a post from Momentum Nonprofit Partners in Memphis, Tennessee titled “This Blog Post Is Sure to Outrage You! Click Here!” Since this blog was originally published in 2020, Momentum has taken the step of no longer being active on Facebook. Their rationale just made a lot of sense to me. Their statement says,

After careful review of our mission and values, we have determined that Facebook does align with our values as an organization and our commitment to creating positive change in our community.

Momentum Nonprofit Partners, October 14, 2021

After reflecting on the focus of my professional work on the Tenacious Change Approach for the last several years and what I’m trying to teach people in the use of it, I have to agree with Momentum…it does not align with my business values. Even more, Facebook does not align with the personal values I attempt to live, however imperfectly.

After I leave Facebook (and its affiliated platforms of Messenger, What’s App, and Instagram), I am not going away. You can still stay connected to me by following this blog, emailing me at ihaveopinionated@gmail.com, and adding my text number to your list of phone contacts: ÔǬ(240) 583-1754ÔÇČ. Also, you can connect with me on LinkedIn, on Twitter (@TomKlaus), or search for me on Signal.

Already I’m not missing Facebook. But I will miss you if we don’t stay in touch.


If You Have Three Hours to Spend with Netflix…

May I recommend that you check out Colin in Black and White? This is a powerful documentary about a young Colin Kaepernick, how he developed as an athlete, and came to embrace his identity as a young Black man.

I know. That sounds pretty heavy, huh? It is at times, but it is also sweet and funny. Kaepernick and Ava DuVernay co-created the documentary. They achieved a balance that makes it possible for people to hear the messages in the film, regardless of how they see Kaepernick.

I’d like to tell you more about the film but I’m going to stop here because I don’t want to risk any spoilers.

On Being a Complicated Patient

In August 2015 I became a “complicated patient.” Seems that getting a pacemaker implanted in your chest earns you that distinction. I’m only now learning what all that means. All along I thought I was a complicated patient but maybe I was just cumbersome, confused, and convoluted.

My pacemaker, whom I call “Jude,” because it was made by St. Jude Medical and because it is fun to get its attention by singing “Hey Jude” to it, is designed to make sure my heart rate does not go below 60 bpm. It does this by monitoring my heart rate and if it goes below that benchmark it delivers an electrical “stimulus” to the bottom chamber to tell it, “Hey, pick it up, move it, move it, move it!” At night, though, a computer (or maybe it is just somebody sitting with a computer on their couch in Olney, Maryland) tells it to allow my heart rate to slow to 55 bpm so I can have a more peaceful night’s sleep.

Oh, one other thing about Jude…specifically St. Jude. According to some followers of the Roman Catholic faith, St. Jude is the patron saint of lost causes. Though I’m not Roman Catholic and have no saints that I particularly care about, I do think it is rather an unfortunate thing for a medical device company to take the name of the patron saint of lost causes. Not exactly a confidence boosting brand, folks.

My July 2nd surgery started six weeks ago, though, because, as you know, I am a complicated patient. This means I had to see all my other doctors – Dr. A (primary care physician), Dr. S (cardiologist), Dr. Suess, Dr. Who, Dr. Dimento, and my in-home oral surgeon and epidemiologist spouse, Dr. Vargas – for clearance.

Now, you may be wondering, what was my surgery? I’m sorry, I cannot tell you. If I did, I would be in violation of HIPAA (Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act) laws. Just to remove any sense of mystery for you though, let’s just call it a lateral whackalectomy.

Lateral whackalectomies are not something you should envy and you should definitely never wish to have one. They are relatively simple surgeries that do not take much time but they are “intense” enough (according to Dr. J-B, the anesthesiologist) that they prefer to knock you all the way out (and you’ll be glad they did). The biggest downside of the lateral whackalectomy is the recovery period. You do get access to narcotics (oxycodone) which I have so far avoided taking. (You may question that by the time you finish reading this post but, really, I’m only on arthritis strength Tylenol). Lateral whackalectomies sometimes have to be done in two surgeries (I was lucky, it appears mine only required the one) and they are known for their “uncomfortable” recoveries, which can take weeks.

So, how “uncomfortable” is “uncomfortable?” Let me put it this way…Dr. S (cardiologist who will eventually cut my chest open to service my pacemaker), when he learned I was having a lateral whackalectomy paused reading my notes, looked up at me sympathetically, and quietly said, “I’m so sorry.”

Having received clearance from Dr. A, Dr. S, Dr. Vargas on the home front, and clearance from Clarence on principle (see Airplane!), I was ready to go on Friday morning, July 2nd.

We arrived at the hospital, entered through the main entrance as directed, and proceeded to the first check in place just inside the hospital door. This check point functioned to make sure we were COVID-19 tested, vaccinated, masked-up, and socially distanced, verify whether we were in the right place and, apparently, to broadcast my medical condition to all present.

  • Desk Attendant: What’s your name?
  • Me: Tom Klaus.
  • Desk Attendant: Full name?
  • Me: Thomas William Klaus
  • Desk Attendant: What are you here for?
  • Me: Surgery.
  • Desk Attendant: Yeah…but what kind?
  • Me: (Surprised) What kind?
  • Desk Attendant: Yes, what kind?
  • Me: (whispered, because I actually know the meaning of HIPAA) A lateral whackalectomy.
  • Desk Attendant: What?!? I can’t hear you.
  • Me: (a little louder now) A lateral whackalectomy.
  • Desk Attendant: (turning to another desk at the far end of the lobby and yelling like a waitress to a short order cook at Waffle House): Thomas W. Klaus here for a lateral whackalectomy. Where do I send him?

After a bit of shuffling about in the lobby and more violation of my HIPAA rights, I was told that I was at the wrong building, despite my written instructions. I needed instead to go next door. We were happy to leave immediately.

We finally made it to the right building where we were greeted by a receptionist who asked me the first of two of the most unnerving questions I’ve ever heard on surgery days.

  • Receptionist: Do you have a living will and an Advance Directive?
  • Me: Yes. Do you think I’ll need them?
  • Receptionist: (Pause) Probably not…but we like to know you have them…just in case.
  • Me (gulping): Well, I not only have them, but I have them with me, you know…just in case.
  • Receptionist: Great! Do you mind if I scan them into our system?

I passed her my paperwork and she gleefully scanned them into their system. A few minutes later we were led by Nurse J to the pre-op area. As per usual I had to strip down, put on one of those fine surgical gowns, and Nurse J got an IV started in me. Pretty cool, though, that Nurse J offered me a bit of lidocaine before trying to hit one of my veins with the IV. I had never had that option before and I liked it. I hope that is now part of nursing best practice.

Once he had me hooked up, Nurse J ran through all the screening questions. The first was the second most unnerving question you want to hear on surgery day: “What are we doing to you today?” Like having a pacemaker made by St. Jude Medical, it is not a question that initially inspires confidence. I looked at Nurse J and said, “Don’t you know?” Nurse J assured me he did but he wanted to make sure I knew and that we were in agreement. Now, really, I wouldn’t know?!? I’ve only been obsessing on it for the last two months when I first learned I needed surgery.

Nurse J was great and a lot of fun. He worked his way through the obligatory screening questions with grace and humor and helped me feel relaxed about the surgery. After Nurse J did the standard prep, he left the room for a bit. He barely got out of the room when I heard Clemencia laughing.

“Look at this sign!” she said between giggles. I couldn’t though because Nurse J had me so wired up I couldn’t turn to see it. “Take a picture and show it to me,” I asked. She did and here’s the sign that triggered her inner surgeon’s sense of humor.

  • Clemencia (giggling): Look at this…”Mark must be at or near incision site.” And it must be the physician’s initials. Where do you think the docs put their put initials when it’s hemorrhoids?
  • Me (trying to join in the humor of the moment, though it didn’t sound convincing): Oh no…what if it’s a vasectomy?
  • Clemencia (giggling even more): I can’t wait to see the doc make her initials for your lateral whackalectomy.

She was infinitely enjoying this more than I was.

About that time Nurse J came back in. He wanted to swap my fashionable cloth facemask for the standard hospital issue. I seized that moment to ask, “Where do you want me to put my chewing gum?” Nurse J froze, his smile dissipated, and he asked me sternly: “Gum? What gum?”

  • Me: My chewing gum.
  • Nurse J: You have chewing gum…in your mouth?
  • Me: Yes
  • Nurse J: You told me you had not eaten or drunk anything since before midnight last night.
  • Me: Yes, that’s true. But I like to chew gum.
  • Nurse J: When did you start chewing the gum?
  • Me: When I was a kid…Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit was always my favorite and sometimes Dubble Bubble.
  • Nurse J (continuing the inquisition): No, today. When did you start chewing gum today?
  • Me (as if I track such things): 10:03 AM, precisely.
  • Nurse J (moving into full nurse lecture mode): Look, the sugar in chewing gum can activate your digestive system. Because you haven’t eaten it will send your system into overdrive. When the surgeon cuts into you there could be an explosion that injures the whole surgical team and shuts down the OR for a whole week. (Okay, he didn’t really say that but I thought he might the way he was going on about it.)
  • Me: But, Nurse J, it was sugarless gum.

At that point Nurse J looked at me like I was a hopeless imbecile and left the room, returning only when it was time to finally get rid of me into the operating room.

Next up was my surgeon, Dr. B. She came in wearing a track suit and bounding about a little too much like Dr. Kylie Johnson on Mad TV. Fortunately, though, it was not my first meeting with Dr. B so it did not take me by surprise as it did Clemencia. To be fair, I did warn Clemencia that Dr. B was younger than our children…and possibly younger than our grandchildren would be, if we had any. I did my research on Dr. B prior to our first meeting for my diagnosis. I learned she is very accomplished and had received positive reviews from her surgical patients. Even better, I learned that her specialty was “minimally invasive surgery” on lateral whackalectomies. I felt confident she knew what she was doing.

Of course, my confidence was slightly shaken when her first question was Nurse J’s opening line: “Do you know what surgery we are doing today?” I really hoped she would know. She did, of course, and then went on to explain that she wouldn’t know if the lateral whackalectomy could be completed today. It might turn out that she’d only be able to do the first part today and I’d come back again in about six weeks for the sequel.

  • Me: When do you expect you’ll know?
  • Dr. B: Oh, not until I get inside. It just depends.
  • Me: Depends on what?
  • Dr. B: On what I find when I get inside.
  • Me: Ohhhhhh…….

Finally I got to meet my anesthesiologist, Dr. J-B. She reviewed my checkered anesthesiology history with me. She asked about the recovery and long term welfare of the nurses and security guards that were in harm’s way when I was last “put under” for my pacemaker implantation in Philadelphia. I have no memory of it but apparently, I was not at all pleasant and have much greater strength than I ever knew. After she heard the story and read my records from that surgery, her eyes widened and she assured me: “Not to worry. We are going to put you out…way out…and intubate you to make sure you aren’t moving around during surgery. But don’t worry, you won’t remember a thing.”

“That’s what you think,” I said with an evil smile and a chortle. (Okay, I really don’t remember a thing from Friday).

Before she left and turned me over to the nurse anesthetist, she quizzed me on my unnatural body parts:

  • Dr. J-B: Do you have any artificial or metal parts in your body?
  • Me: Yes, I do.
  • Dr. J-B: What are they?
  • Me (somewhat surprised she didn’t seem to know): Well, my pacemaker of course.
  • Dr. J-B: What about dentures?
  • Me: No.
  • Dr. J-B: What about lenses? You had cataract surgery, right?
  • Me: Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. I guess the new lens in my life eye qualifies right?
  • Dr. J-B: Right.
  • Me: No, left.
  • Dr. J-B: Left what?
  • Me: Left eye, the new lens is in my left eye.
  • Dr. J-B (sighing): Yes, left eye. Anything else?
  • Me: Only the chip in my brain.
  • Dr. J-B (looking quite surprised because she thought she knew all about me already): Chip? What chip?
  • Me: The one that Johns Hopkins put in to make me believe that lacrosse is a sport worthy of NCAA status and television coverage.
  • Dr. J-B: Very funny, Mr. Klaus.
  • Me: Yes, but not as funny as lacrosse as a “sport.”

By that time it was time to be wheeled away to the OR. I never saw Dr. B (surgeon) again, though I assume she was there. The last thing I remember was being wheeled into the OR, looking around at all of the nasty looking devices laying about on (presumably) sterile tables, and wondering if they were really going to need all of them for my lateral whackalectomy. Apparently they did.


Epilogue

We were warned that a lateral whackalectomy did not take long. In fact, it did not. I was back in recovery before Clemencia had much time to start a new knitting project or listen to a Spanish language podcast as part of her course preparation. When she realized I was already in recovery, she made her way there before anyone had a chance to retrieve her officially. She was just anxious to see if they were planning to offer to send my lateral whacka home with me in a jar. She wanted to be there before I had a chance to say anything stupid.

I’ve been home for the past few days in recovery now. Honestly, the recovery is not pleasant, but it isn’t horrible either. I can’t lift anything over 10 pounds for a couple of weeks which means I cannot play golf (as if I really had time to play golf anyway). Recently I’ve been playing every Saturday I can with my son, Jake. To help me feel better for having to miss golf with him the day after my surgery, he sent me this text from the course.

It is unfortunate that Jake began his note as he did because it makes golfing sound far more nefarious (or a few may say “more interesting”) than it is. Just to be clear “the ladies at Gunpowder” refers to the women who work the front desk and check-in golfers. Now, turn off your imagination.

So, the surgery took place and I’ve been resting at home for the past few days. The recovery is not pleasant, but it isn’t horrible either. I’ve had a bit of fun writing this post as it helps keep my mind off the “discomfort” and reminds me how fortunate I am.

I am fortunate to have good health insurance that allows me to obtain excellent care. I have enjoyed good health through most of my life and have had little reason to use my health insurance. Despite my bit of fun at their expense, the docs and nurses were outstanding (well, that first desk attendant needs a bit more training on HIPAA). I’m fortunate that Dr. L, a doctor I see routinely each year picked upon on the fact that my lateral whacka might not be normal. He sent me right away to Dr. B a specialist for her opinion and biopsy. It was not cancerous, but it did need to be addressed. It was caught early enough to have avoided more serious problems and even multiple surgeries. My most serious surgeries have been simple when compared to those experienced by some people I know. In all, I’m a lucky guy to have good insurance, good doctors, and overall good outcomes related to my health care. In a better world, we’d all be so lucky.

A Slowed Drivel

It has been since March 1 that I have posted anything. It is not that I have run dry on drivel. Instead stuff happens and I am still trying to make sense of things as they are right now. Here, instead, are a few updates and other bits of nonsense.


Klutz Happens

On March 1 I reported on my eye surgery and the arrival of Ebeneezer (Ebie), our new rescue schnauzer. My eye is nicely healed (20/15 distance vision) and I am beginning to beg my ophthalmologist to let me proceed with having the cataract in my right eye fixed as well. Ebie is settling in and we are learning that he has a special ability…which I will share with you later.

What I did not report, though, was that I tried to act like I was 17 again and paid the price. I was walking Ebie three days after he arrived and he was still very skitterish about his new home and surroundings. As I was trying to unlock the door to our building I dropped the leash and the two “doggy bag” containers attached to it made a big noise when they hit the sidewalk. It scared Ebie and he took off like a tiny, gray rocket. I gave chase.

I thought I had him cornered by a neighbors fence when he to took off again. In a nanosecond I thought, “If I attempt a shoestring tackle I think I can grab the leash as he goes by.” He shot by, I was wrong, and I landed with all of my 186 pounds on a fully extended right arm and shoulder. I heard something go “pop” in my upper right arm as I struggled to get up. Ebie, by this time, was standing calmly in the middle of the sidewalk looking at me. I guess the “pop” in my arm was not loud enough to scare him away further…or maybe he just wanted to know what the noise was…or maybe he was curious about my muffled scream of pain.

He did wait patiently while I limped my way over to his leash and picked it up off the ground…with only a bit more pain. Turns out I damaged by my rotator cuff. I did not tear it so no surgery required. Still, it has taken time to heal and I have had to put off golfing for a little while longer.

My real inner klutz appeared though only two weeks ago. Clemencia, Ebie, and I went for a Sunday afternoon walk on the path that runs through our neighborhood. It was a beautiful afternoon after a morning filled will heavy showers. As we walked on the asphalt path, I heard a helicopter flying overhead.

Now, helicopters are not unusual in our skies. We live on the flight path between Washington, DC and Fort Meade and the National Security Agency. There are official helicopters flying over all the time. We also have a hospital about a mile from our home that receives patients by medical helicopters. As a young Iowa farm boy I used to run to the middle of the yard to see an airplane fly over whenever I heard one in the distance. Today all I have to do is look out my windows to see a helicopter go by and even jetliners on approach to BWI airport.

On this occasion, though I have heard and seen hundreds of helicopters fly over our home, I decided I wanted to see this one in particular. So I looked up and kept walking…just as the asphalt path took a slight bend to the left. I stepped off the curb, fought to regain my balance, lost the battle, and landed hard on my knees, hands, shoulder (yes, the injured shoulder), and my head – in that order. Then, for added measure, in a manly attempt to get up quickly, I rolled over into an exquisite mud puddle and soaked my entire backside. There I lay…bloody, bruised, and caked with mud.

All of this to say…I’ve spent a good part of my time since March 1 healing up and doing my best to corral my inner klutz again.


A Few Updates

When I started this blog on March 17, 2020 I had not expected it to last very long and as it went on I introduced a variety of characters. I realized this week I have not kept you abreast of developments with them.

Bert Left and Ernie Right are two wool socks readers met on Day 2 of this blog. They are notorious because I wore them everyday for many, many, many days in this blog. Eventually took on a life and personality of their own – cantankerous personalities if I may be frank. They are still around and I see them occasionally. However, they seem to be spending a lot of time with Beto and Enrique. Readers met Beto Isquierda and Enrique Derecha on Day 15. They appeared as two sunbathing wool socks from Clemencia’s sock drawer. I think they appeared as a response to my sock offensive with Bert and Ernie. The rumor is that the four socks may be plotting something though it is not yet clear what it is. I will probably have to send spies to check them out.

Winthrop Dykstra-Baum appeared on Day 19 of this blog. He is a legendary public radio news personality but, unfortunately, he fell on hard times. He became radicalized and became more so over time. Eventually he left public radio and joined up with Badger New Network. Unfortunately for Windy, Badger News struggled after the attempted coup on January 6th. They were called out for their promotion of what has become known as “The Big Lie” and lost a boatload of corporate advertising. Just to be safe, the Badger News Network is focused now on covering roadkill (you know, like badgers, wolverines, skunks, squirrels, bad toupees, etc.). Windy is now the Senior Editor for “The Stinking Badger Daily,” a roundup of roadkill obituaries.

Alonzo and Starlee are two friends whom we see weekly via Zoom. They introduced us to a way to address one of the greatest challenges in the early days of the pandemic. Remember when it appeared every square of toilet paper in the world was going to be stored in a secret locked vault owned jointly by Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos, Warren Buffet, the Pillsbury Dough Boy, and that family of red bears in the Charmin commercial? (Uh oh, might that have just been another “brilliant” QAnon delusion…I mean…conspiracy theory?) Alonzo and Starlee joined the blog on Day 27 when they told us about the magic of the portable bidet. We quickly ordered ours…and received them about a month later. We have them now, though, for the next big run on TP.

Recently we were telling Alonzo and Starlee about the unique ability we have discovered that Ebie possesses. It turns out that Ebie can…well…you know…talk. And he is especially inclined to talk after he has been reading The Guardian. Not sure what that is about; it just is. Alonzo and Starlee did not seemed surprised that I could hear Ebie talking because they have a talented rescue dog too, named Jake.

After I shared some of Ebie’s insights and analysis with Alonzo and Starlee they encouraged me to share some of them in this blog. With Ebie’s permission I will do that. But not in this blog. Next time.

Recommended Reading

Looking for some thought provoking reading? Here are a a few articles I have been pondering.

Letters from an American – March 23, 2021 – An interesting piece from Heather Cox Richardson on the meaning of the 2nd Amendment of the Constitution.

White Evangelicals Do Not Intend to get Vaccinated

The Vital Role of Bystanders in Convicting Derek Chauvin

First America Caucus Platform – This is not an article but it is policy platform of the America First Caucus which a few extremist Republicans were trying to promote. The backlash was so strong that they quickly distanced themselves from it however it is worth reading to see how much worse things could be.


Photo Credit for Featured Image Above

I took the photo of the bags of Sterzing’s Potato Chips however that is not where the credit lies. The credit lies with my sister Jan who sent them to me for my birthday last week. They are made in Burlington, Iowa, near my hometown. She knows I love them because, after all, they are the best potato chip in the world…not just “possibly” as their website header claims.


The View from Jeff

Jeff Explains: It may have been watching too much Str Wars over the holidays, or too many Zoom meetings with too little Just For Men … or a combination of all those factors, but I am sure that there is a clear Rebel Alliance logo in my facial hair.

Be safe, be well, and get your vaccination. Do the right thing for others by continuing to wear your mask, keep distance, wash your hands, and, in every way and every day, stand up for accountability, justice, and peace in our country and our world.

(Adjective) Thanksgiving

What is the most appropriate adjective this year, of all years, for the phrase “_____ Thanksgiving?”

It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Lib Thanksgiving

At least one family I know has a fun and funny Thanksgiving tradition. Each year, after dinner, the family sits around the table doing a Mad Lib that has been written by a family member. You remember Mad Libs right?

Those are the fill-in-the-blank stories which are created when people suggest nouns, verbs, and adjectives without knowing what the story is really about. For example, they might be asked for an adjective, verb, and noun for this line:

(ADJECTIVE) Tony (VERB) to the store and bought a (NOUN).

Of course, Mad Libbers don’t actually know the line so the complete sentence could turn out to be very funny, very nonsensical, and even very racy. Usually, they are just very funny. Like, “Upside down Tony gargled to the story and bought a new tire.” Okay, okay…I thought it was funny.

This year we have an actual Mad Lib Thanksgiving. What is the adjective we will use to describe it? Frankly, “happy” doesn’t work for me because this has been a year of such unhappiness for so many and it still isn’t over. While I write the rest of this blog, I’m going to continue to think about how I will answer the question I posed at its beginning.


Thanksgiving Reading

If you are looking to take a break from the endless news cycle and COVID-19 ravaged football games, there are three short pieces I recommend you read today. All came into my email inbox over the past 24 hours and each spoke to me in different ways. Just click on the header link to access each of them.

Letters from an American – November 25, 2020

Heather Cox Richardson, a history professor and writer from Maine, writes a daily blog which my friend Dave introduced me to a few months ago. In this blog she writes about the history of Thanksgiving as a national holiday. It doesn’t follow the story we all learned as children – you know, kindly Pilgrims and even more kindly Indigenous people who didn’t let the Pilgrims starve. It focused instead on how President Abraham Lincoln came to proclaim the last Thursday of November as a national day of thanksgiving. More fascinating than how it came to be is why it came to be. I won’t bury the headline but I won’t give it away either. Be sure to give it a read yourself.

Gratitude in Six Words, from Our Readers

Last week, David Leonhardt, the writer of the The Morning newsletter, in the New York Times, asked readers to send him six words that describe what made them thankful in 2020. I found it to be – all at the same – the most beautiful, moving, sweetest, and saddest of all articles I’ve read recently. After a very brief introduction by Leonhardt, the remainder of the article features the six word descriptions submitted by reader. Leonhardt received over 10,000 replies and, of course, he could not publish them all. Here are six that touched me, but, please, take a few minutes and read his list:

The crinkling eye above the mask.

Ambulance took him. He came home.

Held my son as he died.

We’re falling in love over FaceTime.

Alone, spouses thankful for tiny turkey.

This stinking year is almost over.

With Sufficient Force, Pigs Fly Just Fine

This is a blog written by my friend Geri Seiberling. She and her husband, Kevin, started etc!graphics, a visual communications company, in Carlisle, Iowa in 1988. Their office is directly across the street from the building that house the office of my first consultancy business, which I opened in 1998. Geri and Kevin were very helpful to me in establishing the “look” of that business. Unfortunately, that business was just beginning to get a foothold in 2001 when the events of September 11th happened. The subsequent impact on the U.S. economy forced me to finally close the business in 2004 though it actually died in late 2001 and early 2002.

For this Thanksgiving holiday, Geri published her blog as a letter about the year 2020 to her future self (to be opened again next year at this time). It is one of the most creative, hopeful, optimistic pieces I’ve read this year. It very much reflects Geri as I remember her. I’ve not seen her or Kevin since I left Iowa in 2005 but I remember their office was a place I could always stop by when I needed good advice, a sounding board, or just a word of hope and optimism.


Answering the First Question

I opened this blog with this question: What is the most appropriate adjective this year, of all years, for the phrase “_____ Thanksgiving?” I’m going to try to fill in that blank now.

This year I have become more aware of my privilege as a white American male than ever before. My awareness was further expanded about 12 hours ago.

Last night we had a Thanksgiving Zoom with our children. A daughter is in Brooklyn, New York, three hours away. A son and daughter-in-law are in Columbia, Maryland, fifteen minutes away. All three reported being overworked and wildly stressed. All three looked exhausted and like they had aged several years over the past several months. I’m guessing we must have looked older and more worn to them too.

However, we all also reported that we feel fortunate to be in a different place than some of our friends who have lost jobs, income, and loved ones to COVID-19. Also, we have all remained healthy. Only one of us has had a possible exposure to the virus that necessitated COVID-19 testing. We all regularly mask up, maintain physical distance, and otherwise do the right things to ensure we remain healthy, protect others, and don’t become a burden to the already overburdened health system. And, we all feel a certain amount of survivor’s guilt to be so fortunate so far.

I understand my privilege now extends to being one who still has a regular income, a place to call my home, food on the table, minimal worries about the physical health of our children, fewer worries about our children’s financial health and well-being than some parents, a plan to stay safe and well, and the resources to animate that plan.

How dare I, from this position of privilege and through this lens, wish anyone a “Happy” Thanksgiving this year? I don’t dare.

Wherever you are, whatever your situation, I can only hope for you a restful, peaceful, and safe Thanksgiving.


With Appreciation

This week we watched the 33rd Hispanic Heritage Awards on PBS. I usually avoid award shows like…well…the coronavirus. However, being married to a proud Colombian who has made amazing contributions to her adopted country, it seemed appropriate (and wise) to set aside my disdain for award shows and tune in. Besides, it was only an hour long. Any award show, no matter how bad, can usually be endured for sixty minutes.

This year the awards went to Jessica Alba, Selena Gomez, Bad Bunny, Linda Rondstadt, and the majority of the 3 million farmworkers who are Hispanic and Latino who have continued to put food on our tables during the pandemic. There was also a powerful tribute to John Lewis whose work in civil rights also benefitted Latinos and Hispanics. I was moved by the rendition of the National Anthem performed by the all women’s mariachi group Flor de Toloache, whos NPR Tiny Desk Concert you can see below.

The tribute to farm workers was powerful. It was also a humbling reminder of the privilege I enjoy, even at those times when I feel under appreciated and overlooked for everything I think I do.

The tribute to Linda Ronstadt was one of my favorite segments because I have always been a fan of her music and because the tribute featured one of my favorite music groups, The Mavericks, performing several of her hits with various female singers in the lead. Ronstadt no longer performs due to progress supranuclear palsy. The video below features The Mavericks but it is not a Linda Ronstadt song. It is my favorite song by the group and it is an amazing song to dance to to (yes, it is a cha cha…kind of a fast cha cha, but great fun!).

I feel appreciative today after watching the show. If you have about 55 minutes, I recommend you watch the Hispanic Heritage Awards. I think it will inspire you and remind you, as it did me, how much richer and better we are as a country because of those who have come here (as my ancestors did in the late 1800’s) believing in the promise of the United States of America.


Mostly Speechless

Was that a debate?

Trump’s COVID-19 diagnosis.

“Road trip” to wave to his fans outside the hospital in Bethesda.

Weird photo op on his return to the White House (yes, he was breathing heavily after climbing the steps…because he is still sick!).

Clueless.

Desperate.

Idiot.

One last thing…here is something you may have missed in the news. It is footage of Trump and a couple of his advisors engaging with some of the people outside the White House to witness his return from the hospital. Really, it is worth the two minutes it takes to watch it.


The View from Jeff

Jeff Logan is celebrating Inktober, which is really lucky for us! During Inktober artists commit to doing a drawing each day of the month based on a prompt. Today features of Jeff’s Inktober drawings based on the prompt, “Bulky.” You can follow Jeff throughout Inktober at his Instagram page.

Jeff explains: Next day of Inktober drawing prompts. TodayÔÇÖs word is Bulky. Made me think that the weather is nice but winter is coming … and with it winter coats!

July 23, 2020 – Magicicadas and Ping├╝inos

how do they do that?

Summer is a curious time. It’s not my favorite time because I prefer cool weather over hot weather and, wow, is it hot right now. I’ve been a very fair skinned guy all of my life so when I spend too much time in the sun, I begin looking like the (boiled) Lobster Man from Mars. (The movie is truly awful, so awful it is actually pretty good.)

Cicadas make summer tolerable for me. They are among the ugliest creatures on earth but their songs are extraordinary. I’m probably one of those few odd people who long for the return of the magicicada, also known as periodical cicadas. These are the ones which tend to appear in 13 and 17-year cycles.

Magicicada are grouped into “broods” throughout the United States. Based on their last appearance, it is possible to calculate their next appearance. Here in Maryland we have a 17-year magicicada known as the Great Eastern Brood. They last sang for us 2004…well, not for me, I was still living in Iowa then…but they are coming back on tour in 2021. They will be appearing in 14 states: New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, District of Columbia, Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Michigan. Woo hoo! I can hardly wait!

I try to take daily walks for exercise and to get out of Clemencia’s hair for a bit. My usual treks take me along some wooded areas where the cicadas have recently been testing their songs. It is one of the most comforting sounds I know and it always takes me back home to summer nights in Iowa.

Not sure what a cicada song sounds like? Here’s a video of a cicada doing a solo. In the background you can also hear a fascinated young child who poses one of those questions bound to stump most parents.

The film version of the Broadway show, The Music Man, is one of our favorite movies. It is about Harold Hill, an unscrupulous salesman of musical instruments and marching band uniforms in the early 20th century. He plies his trade in River City, Iowa and, as usual, plans to collect the money and leave town before the instruments and uniforms arrive. In this way he isn’t found out as a phony music teacher and band leader. In one of my favorite scenes, Hill (played by the late Robert Preston, whose acting career did not usually include singing, by the way) teaches four battling school board members how to sing and they become an inseparable barbershop quartet. The video of this scene below is a bit grainy but the audio is good…especially if you turn it up a wee bit.

So, what does Harold Hill, The Music Man, and this barbershop quartet have to do with the cicada video and song? Remember, in the scene, when one of the board members objects that he can’t sing? Hill tells him, “You see, singing is just sustained talking.” Maybe this also helps the parent answer the child’s question in the cicada video. You know, when we hear the child say, “How’s he do that?” Perhaps the right answer is, “You see, the cicada’s song is just sustained flatulence.” Just saying!


speaking of penguins…

If cicadas remind me of summer, penguins remind me of cooler, happier times. Aside from just the fact that they are incredibly cute and always well-dressed, I love them because of what they are called in Spanish. In Spanish the name for “penguin” is “ping├╝ino” (masculine form) and “ping├╝ina” (feminine form). Don’t know why, I just love the sound of the word and it almost always makes me smile when I say it or hear it. Because it is not a common word to use, I have to work really hard to find ways to use it with my Spanish’speaking spouse. For example:

  • Would you like to go the zoo next year…when we can leave the house again…and see some ping├╝inos?
  • I know we watched it only two nights ago, but how about if we watch March of the Ping├╝inos again tonight?
  • Hey, Clemencia, did I tell you I got a phone call from a person who claimed to be a ping├╝ino?
  • Can you believe it? I had another dream about playing basketball with an 8-foot ping├╝ino last night!

My ping├╝ino musings do have a point but only barely. Today’s Washington Post has a photo essay by a Dutch photographer, Albert Dros. He traveled to Antarctica and got some beautiful photos of ping├╝inos and lots of ice, which is perfect for the heatwave we are enduring at the moment. Enjoy!


One more thing…

Here’s a very fun but brief Instagram posting from Scott Hoying, one of founders and leads in the acapella group, Pentatonix. It is a tribute to Dr. Anthony Fauci based on a song from Hamilton. Enjoy!


chickenman – episode 83

Ms. Helfinger makes an emergency call to the Atlantic Ocean to recall Chickenman to help the Commissioner fight a Very Diabolical.


July 11, 2020 – How To Plan When You Can’t Plan

a musical summer!

Last Friday night Clemencia and I fired up Disney+ and watched Hamilton, a film of the extraordinarily popular Broadway show that won a boatload of Tony’s in 2016. We had to subscribe to Disney+ to see it but, fortunately we got a bundle that includes Hulu and ESPN as well. Weirdly, the cost of the Disney+ for a year is still less expensive than a single seat at most live performances of the show…not that there will be many for the near future.

Okay, for a little more fun with Hamilton, have you seen Weird Al Yankovic’s “The Hamilton Polka?” You’ve got to take five minutes (and one second) to watch it.

If you’ve ever wondered how artist’s react to being parodied by Weird Al, you’ll also enjoy these two links: Lin-Manuel Miranda hears “Weird Al” Yankovic’s “The Hamilton Polka” for the first time and Jimmy Fallon’s interview of Lin-Manuel Miranda and Weird Al, with the story of how it all came together.

We enjoyed Hamilton a lot…in fact, we watched it a second time and let it inspire us to see what other Broadway shows might be available for us to watch this summer. Much to our delight we discovered that PBS is going to start showing Broadway shows on Friday nights as part of its Great Performances: Broadway at Home series. It all begins on PBS on July 24th.

We’ve decided to get an early start by watching several Broadway shows that are also available through streaming services such as Netflix, Amazon Prime, and, again, Disney+. BroadwayHD is a streaming service that provides access to all kinds of Broadway shows. It is a paid service but at $99.00 a year, it is still less expensive than a ticket for one in the nosebleed section!

how do you plan when you can’t plan?

That’s the question I’ve been helping a number of my clients answer over the past few months. When the pandemic national emergency order was issued on Friday the 13th of March, most of us (except my spouse, Clemencia) were pretty sure this was going to be a two-week bonus vacation, right?

But those two weeks grew into four weeks, then six, then two months, then three months and now we are in our fourth month of an altered reality due to the Novel Coronavirus. Plus, as our understanding the virus changes, it changes how we think about the future – vacation trips, school, working back in our offices with other people (in the flesh), and team sporting events – from junor soccer, to little league, to professional sports.

Let’s be honest. Long-range planning is very difficult, if not impossible, right now. We don’t when, or if, our kids will be in school this Fall. We don’t know if we will be “locked down” again. We don’t have a clue what our lives and our work will look like six weeks from now, not to mention six months.

Such uncertainty is disconcerting and uncomfortable. I have spent the last decade or so becoming comfortable with uncertainty. I have always been a very planful person and I’ve always wanted to know, with a high degree of certainty, what was coming next. Thankfully, I need less certainty today.

Several years ago I became interested in complexity theory and the concept of emergence. Understanding and embracing these has allowed me to help my clients achieve a greater level of peace in the current environment. Planning is an effort to control the uncontrollable. However, there is nothing wrong with planning if we don’t become compulsive about it. In fact, there are good reasons for doing some planning.

It is most valuable when we can think of planning as a form of readiness to adapt when adaptation, or more adaptation, is required. Adaptation is always needed…not just in a highly unpredictable pandemic but at all times because none of us can predict the future. If we could do that, all of us would be rich and all of the casinos and lotteries would have gone broke by now.

At the heart of effective planning in a time of extreme uncertainty there is the need to trust. No, not leaders or other people to save us. We need to trust in a process more than a plan. For example, we may not have a plan for how to get our kids back to school safely, but we need to be able to trust a process for determining how to move forward and yet remain nimble in case circumstances change quickly again. The same is true for re-opening our businesses, bringing people back into work safely, and returning to some sense of life as it was on March 1 rather than March 13.

To trust a process requires us to trust how decisions are made. I have great appreciation for the leader who says, “I’m not exactly sure how we are going to do this, but I know we can figure it out if we consider the information and facts we have, work together on a solution, and be responsible to do our part and follow through.” I have much less appreciation for those who claim to know the answer based on their intuition and “gut.”

If you are leading a team, an organaization, or even a family, try leaning into your uncertainty and trust the process instead of trying to guess your way out of this with a plan. Put down your logic models, theories of change, strategy plans, and organizational charts for a little bit. Just step back and keep your eyes open to the lessons to be learned and the opportunties that are emerging in this new reality.

In brief, trust the process. Know the best answers for this moment will emerge as we move forward as best we can and with openness to those things we can’t see when we overplan. And, remember, you do not have to have all the answers all of the time. Trust that others have answers too.


the view from jeff

chickenman – episode 79

Ms. Helfinger makes an involuntary trip to Dr. Friendly…who sounds a lot like Bela Lugosi. I wonder what he looks like?


June 27, 2020 – Connected by Music

Today is Saturday, June 27, 2020. This is also Sunglasses Day. I’m happy to say everyday is sunglasses day for me…kind of. I wear glasses with transition lenses that turn dark when I’m outside in the sunlight. I love but it doesn’t always set well with the papparazzi who follow me everywhere or the fans that swarm me when I’m in public and want a selfie with me. My automatic sunglasses, of course, hide my eyes. Which means I wear my sunglasses at night?


connected by music

Today Clemencia and I had to pick up Madison’s ashes. We had her cremated after she was euthanized about 10 days ago. (Just to be clear, I’m referring to the older of our two Miniature Schnauzers.) Her ashes came back to us in a beautiful wooden urn, with a nameplate, and a place to put a photo of her. To be honest, we aren’t quite sure what do to with her ashes. We’ll have to think about it a bit.

On the ride this morning to pick up her ashes, we were listening to music of the 1970’s on Sirius XM Radio. Two songs came on that made us realize something pretty cool. Though we grew up a language and two continents apart apart, we had some of the same music in common.

The first song was Terry Jack’s “Seasons in the Sun,” released in December 1973. When the song came on this morning smart alec me said, “You know, when I hear this song the only thing that comes to mind are groups of junior high and high schools girls singing along and crying with this song.” Clemencia’s response was, “Well, one of those was probably me.” “Oh…,” I sheepishly replied.

“Seasons in the Sun” was a one-hit wonder for Terry Jacks, a Canadian musician. The song is about a dying man saying farewell to his loved ones. Ironically, the “B” side of “Seasons of the Sun” was Jack’s original composition about burying a deceased pet dog. From a dying person to a dead dog…seems a bit of leap, don’t you think?

Originally, The Beach Boys had recorded the song with Jacks’ producing it. However, The Beach Boys decided not to do anything with it, so Jacks recorded it on his own label and released it independently.

Much to my shock at the time…and still today…it was a huge song. Within a month of its release it broke into the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 and by March it rose to #1 and stayed for 3 weeks. It stayed on the Hot 100 chart until Memorial Day 1974. In Canada it did even better. By late January 1974 it went to RPM’s #1 position and stayed there for four weeks. It also held the #1 position on music charts in Australia, Austria, Denmark, France, Germany, Ireland, Norway, South Africa, Switzerland, New Zealand, and the United Kingdom. Now, if you do the math, that was a whole bunch wailing and sobbing young people out there! In the end, Billboard ranked it as the #2 song overall for 1974.

Not all of its fame was glorious, however. A couple of polls, including one conducted by CNN in 2006, rated “Seasons in the Sun” as one of the worst pop songs ever recorded. Seriously, and with deep apologies to all my good Canadian friends, I so agree with this poll.

Here is the version I remember. Keep you Kleenex close!

Colombians Ana and Jaime, recorded the song in Spanish. They were are a brother and sister duo from Bogota who were known mostly for ballads and protest songs. This is the version that Clemencia remembers.

The second song that came on which we both knew in our respective parts of the world in the 1970’s was “Rose Garden,” sung by Lynn Anderson. “Rose Garden” also did very well in the charts holding #1 positions in several countries, including the U.S. The song, however, is noted for being one of the very first “crossover” hits – from country to pop. It made Country Music Television’s list of “100 Greatest Songs in Country Music” in 2003. Just last year, 2019, Rolling Stone named it as one of the “20 Songs That Defined the Early Seventies.”

Here is the “Rose Garden” I was listening to in 1970. This version is from the BBC’s “Top of the Pops.” It features a live orchestra and a studio full of British teens doing an interesting variety of dances to the tune.

This is the version of “Jardin de Rosas,” by Colombian singer Maria Antonia, that Clemencia was listening to in Colombia. Enjoy!

Today’s musical exploration was a fun excursion into the past and the meaning of muic in our lives. It also reminded us of the power of music to connect people.


the view from jeff

Jeff Explains: With people moving from their curated studio spaces into face to face meetings I can only imagine that coffee shop power bills will spike due to people bringing their own optimal lighting sources.

chickenman – episode 71

Chikcenman had “issues” today and I could not create a link to him. Sorry about that! He’ll be back soon!


June 24, 2020 – It’s Weird Al Wednesday!

Today is June 24, 2020 and Log Cabin Day, founded by Virginia Handy, and the Bad Axe Historical Society in Michigan. It was first recognized in 1986. Log Cabin Day was created to promote the preservation of log cabins and increase understanding of life during the period in the United States when log cabins were widely in use. Seems like a good day to break out the Lincoln Logs! Interesting factoid: Lincoln Logs were invented by John Lloyd Wright, son of the famed architect, Frank Lloyd Wright.


weird al wednesday!

I confess. I am a Weird Al Yankovic fan. Weird Al’s real name is Alfred Matthew Yankovic, which explains the origin of his moniker. Yes, Weird Al is the guy behind so many of the song parodies we’ve heard or seen on video for over 40 years. I was a bit surprised, and you may be too, to learn that those song parodies have been far better to him than I ever imagined. He has won five Grammys (out of 16 total nominations); had four gold records; and six platinum records.

My first acquaintance with his work was in the mid-1970’s on the Dr. Demento radio show. I was attending school at a tiny college in Western Kansas and Dr. Demento came on every Sunday night. I continued to follow Dr. Demento and Weird Al over the years. Each year now Weird Al appears live at Wolf Trap (well, not this year!) and it is still one of my “bucket list” wishes to go to one of his concerts.

Not that I need another reason to admire Weird Al but here’s one: he was asked to be the guest editor of MAD Magazine in 2015! Now I’m just jealous!

One of the things I learned about Weird Al is that he always asks artists for permission to parody their songs. In an interview in 2015 he revealed the only artist who refused his requests until that time was Prince.

I’m not sure why he came to mind today. Just for totally drivelous fun, I decided to feature some of my favorite Weird Al videos. Enjoy!


“Tacky” is a parody of Pharell William’s “Happy” and is one of my favorites. Weird Al’s singing the lyrics but it also features a number of guest stars lipsyncing the words.

Click here to see Pharrel William’s “Happy”

We don’t always think of Weird Al as a social commentator, right? “First World Problems” is an original Yankovic work that delivers plenty of commentary with humor.

“I Lost on Jeopardy” is one of the first Weird Al videos I ever saw and I loved it. Note that the host of Jeorpardy! in this video is NOT Alex Trebek but his predecessor, Art Fleming. Trebek started hosting Jeopardy! shortly after the Weird Al video was released in December 1983. Unfortunately, I’m not able to embed the video in the blog but if you follow its link, or this one, you should be able to see it.

“Ricky” was Weird Al’s first music video. It was a parody of Tony Basi’s “Mickey.” Again, YouTube is not letting me embed the video here but you can click on the hyperlink, or this one, and it will take you to it on YouTube. In Weird Al’s parody the song is about the “I Love Lucy” show. In it he appears as Desi Arnaz without his moustache, beard, and his hair straightened. He bears a striking resemblance to a young Desi Arnaz.

In the next video, recorded just as the pandemic was beginning in March, Weird Al plays the instrument he knows best – the accordion – in a cover of Classical Gas. Yankovic started playing the accordion on his 7th birthday.

In this last video, Weird Al faces off against Jon Batiste, music director for the Late Show with Stephen Colbert. It showcases the talent of both amazing artists. Enjoy!

Okay, that’s Weird Al Wednesday. I hope you enjoyed the tour and also developed a greater appreciation of this talented comedian and musician.


chickenman – episode 68

Benton Harbor (Chickenman, the Crime Fighting Capon) seems to have some challenges getting out of bed on the weekend. This could be a barrier to his weekend crimefighting!


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