Monday, April 23, 2018

Recalling the Incredible Self Immolation of the Red Cross

Originally written, May 2014.  


I quit the Red Cross the other day; took all the pins off my vest and left it at the Chapter.  Well,  I guess you don't actually "quit" when you're a volunteer in the Western Carolinas Region, or should I say, a member of the Disaster Workforce as the Regional Disaster and Programs Officer refers to us, (Officer…LOL).  


If I was out processing from a DRO, I'd end up at Mental Health Services.
They'd sit me down for a little heart-to-heart chat.  Many of you know how that conversation goes; "How are you feeling?  Was this a positive experience?  Is there any thing you'd like to share with us??"
Well, since you asked, I'll share just a few thoughts about my four and a half years at the Upstate Chapter of the American Red Cross here in Greenville, SC. 

Disaster Relief Operations (DRO’s) were a tremendous eye opener for me.  I'd listen to stories about gross incompetence in people's home chapters. I'd spend the day in an ERV with slackers who were a waste of the airfare spent on them.  Then I'd get home and think what a great bunch of people we have here in Greenville!  The Greenville Chapter is all about Disaster Services for me. Armed Forces, Community Outreach and Wine Auctions are great!  But it's Disaster Services where the action is -- where trained, experienced volunteers have the greatest impact.  I never had any quarrel with any of the staffers: Melise, Karen, Greta, Sue, Beth.  All very special people.  
I had a good run; Instructor, DAT Captain, Mass Care and several DRO's... all good stuff.  
The Greenville volunteers I interacted with were great!  

So it was all good on the surface, but the fact remains that over the past two years I've become increasingly frustrated with my local chapter and the Red Cross in general. I was failing at one of the great Red Cross Re-Engineering Pilars: Engagement

So why my disengagement?  I think it comes down to this:  

The Chapter I joined in December 2009 no longer exists*.  
I joined a robust, dynamic Chapter.  Today, that Chapter seems a distant, hollow shell of itself. A Disaster Services team going through the day-to-day motions with a few dedicated die hards hanging on.  I looked at an old volunteer roster from 2010-11 and it amazed me how many volunteers have simply disappeared. Remember when our monthly meetings were standing room only?  Who even bothers going to these anymore?  Sad.

I'll say it: The system-wide Red Cross Reorganization, followed up by Re-engineering took the life out of our great Upstate Disaster Services group. Some of this was the fault of ARC National and Division leadership.  Some was due to misguided Regional decisions and I suspect some was back-room local. Most of the big system wide changes have all the hallmarks of consultants. You'll never see those costs  deliniated on the Annual Statement.     

Some examples, in no specific order:
  • The incredibly naive management assumption that Greenville, SC volunteers would think of Asheville, Hendersonville, or Forest City, NC as natural extensions of their home base and drive willy-nilly to help up North (as if the reverse would ever be true!)  This was ARC group-think at it's worst!   
  • Musical chairs leadership in the Greenville Disaster Services office. This wasn't National's fault.  It's almost as if the people running things had a total lack of business knowledge about the effects of leadership turnover and vacancies!  And, how long has the Spartanburg position supposedly been in search?  It's an embarrassment. It's not the money -- you can find the $25k!  The HR Consultant running searches in our Region should be replaced.  
  • Witnessing what looked like the flailing, on-the-job learning curve of our loony Regional Disaster Program Officer. Initially we were bombarded with a never ending series of idiotic weather reports and warnings, many times exaggerating the actual facts as reported by the National Weather Service, or its River Forecast Center.  And no e-mail about personnel changes was complete without a reminder to us that people reported to him. Truly clueless.  (Memo to the RDPO; We don't care!)  Remember the famous "Mandatory Meeting" that would take 45 minutes to drive to, just to see a Re-Engineering video on Youtube?  Some of us spoke up at the time. But as influence and authority shifted to Asheville, independence drained out of Greenville. I saw strong people roll over as if their hands were tied, all accompanied by happy talk to the volunteers about the benefits of change. I understand not wanting to rock the boat. Why risk being perceived as not a team player?
  • SABA:  The Red Cross fell in love with LMS technology irrespective of who their students are!  SABA killed the old-fashioned classroom. The classroom is a social environment where Red Crossers got to know one another. The classes went a long way to building a community of volunteers.   I'd love to compare learning metrics from 2010 (classroom based) and 2014 (on-line). Boot Camp classes doesn't count.   
  • Volunteer Connection:  In my opinion, epic fail.  What has it really accomplished? It's already out-dated. It's still clumsy to use. The final cost was no doubt much, much more than any one will ever admit.   
  • Dissolving Greenville's "Leadership Quartet" program and Department Chairpersons. These were two outstanding local programs for volunteers to sink their teeth into.  So why'd they disappear?? No one ever said.  National certainly wasn't to blame!  It wasn't financial because there wasn't any cost, and It certainly wasn't for lack of participation. The only answer seems to be parochial politics. Someone probably didn't like the ad hoc titles and positions that didn't fit in with their way of thinking. I know this: scuttling these two programs alienated a number of good volunteers and worse…signaled the inexorable erosion of chapter self-direction and identity. 
As I said, I had a great run. It's not that I'm bitter or anti-change.  But I'm a cynic and I worry about change that is over hyped and that good people have to recover from.  

In the end, I'm grateful for the opportunity the Red Cross provided me to help some needy people and make some great friends.  Happy trails to those who stick it out!  

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* These are my opinions and perspectives.  Your's may differ.

Sunday, April 1, 2018

Harvoni - Rhymes with Baloney

Remember all those cool GAP kids you used to emulate??
You know what they’re doing now?
They’re now wearing Ralph Lauren and lighting floating sky-lanterns.
But, some things haven’t changed. They’re still selling, but they’ve gone from gone from teens eating baloney to adults schilling Harvoni.  
Harvoni: "Because we want you to have Hep-C…just like us!"  Oh and just so we don’t get in trouble?  That Hep-C thang?  That’s freaking Hepatitis!  But calling it ‘Hep-C’ makes it sound like a Dave Matthews tune playing at your Junior College rathskeller. 
Hep-C !  It’s the hip ’n cool disease d’jour!  
It’s the illness that all the hipster Boomers have!  
We all have Hep-C and wear scarves! 
And well all take Harvoni!  You should too!


But maybe, just maybe…it’s all baloney??

Ask yourself; Which would you prefer?

Baloney or Harvoni?








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Hep C?!  You disgusting pig!
How the hell did you get Hep C?
The wedding is OFF and I’m keeping the ring and presents
How funny would this be?   Would your bride react the same way if you said, “Hey hon, there's something you should know before the ceremony - I just ate a baloney sandwich and have one stashed in our honeymoon suite at the hotel for later.”  Would she been all freaked out? Probably not. Why?
Here's what your bride knows: You got Hep C because you played a game called RISK!


Image result for i have never ever

Let’s play the game: “Never Ever Have I” ...engaged in the kind of  hedonistic behaviors that doctors tell us are the leading causes of  Hep C. 
You start - we’ll just follow along…laughing at you!

  • Never Have I: Been a sloppy health care worker who has been exposed to infected blood, which may happen if an infected needle pierces your skin (see the movie Contagion)
  • Never Have I: Injected or inhaled illicit drugs (LIAR! Fess up! You did…still do!)
  • Never Have I: Had HIV (remember when that blood test came back false positive and you almost told all your ex’s?)
  • Never Have I: Received a tattoo in an unclean parlor using unsterile equipment (Ahh yes! Your permanent reminder of Spring Break in Cancun with crazy Jacki)
  • Never Have I: Received a blood transfusion or organ transplant before 1992 (nope)
  • Never Have I: Received clotting factor concentrates before 1987 (never)
  • Never Have I: Received hemodialysis treatments for a long period of time (nah)
  • Never Have I: Been born to a woman with a hepatitis C infection (Mom?!?)
  • Never Have I: Been in prison (Question: Is Jail the same as Prison? Asking for a friend.)
  • Never Have I: Engaged in unprotected sex with multiple partners (rut-row!)
  • Never Have I: Shared other equipment used to prepare or take drugs – such as spoons, filters, pipes and straws – that have been contaminated with infected blood. (holy shit!)
  • Never Have I: Shared items such as toothbrushes and razors (OMG! Think!!  Remember that time you woke up at some girl's apartment and realized you had an 8am breakfast meeting with the CEO?  In desperation you grabbed her Lady Shick razor and then her pink tooth brush and Crest. I mean, why not?!  You just spent the better part of the night swapping god knows how many germs and bodily fluids!)
  • Were born between 1945 and 1965, the age group with the highest incidence of hepatitis C infection (Ermergerd!!)

Even the dreaded Side Effects of taking Harvoni are a matter of dispute


Baloney Side Effects
Harvoni Side Effects
WINNER
Feel like throwing up
Feel Like Throwing Up
Tie
Nausea and projectile vomiting
Feeling Weak
Bologna
Belching & Extreme flatulence
Low Energy
Bologna
Intestinal cramps
Diarrhea
Harvoni
Self loathing posts on Facebook
Dizzy-Depression
Bologna
An acidic taste in your mouth.
Bilirubin in the Blood
(Seriously?)  Harvoni
Frustration trying to get the package to seal tightly closed
Giant Hives & rashes
(Hives?)  Harvoni
Embarassment when the checker at Publix gives you a condescending look
Relapse Of Hepatitis B
(Seriously)?  Harvoni
Golden Retriver won't stop jumping on you to get your sammich
Small Skin Blisters
Bologna
Jingle gets stuck in your head: 🎶 My Bologna has a first name ðŸŽ¶
Chronic Trouble Sleeping
Bologna

Baloney WINS!!

and now to pour salt into your Hep-C rash and hives…..

The recommended dosage of HARVONI is one tablet daily.
The current cost per dose is….. $1,125.
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How much does a baloney sammich cost?? What’s the cost of that dose?

  • 16 oz Oscar Meyer at Walmart: $2.00
  • Serving Size 2 Slices per sandwich                   
  • Slices Per Container 16
  • Calories 160 (so what)
  • Calories from Fat 140 (I’m eating baloney for chrissake! I don’t care!)

Cost per sandwich: $2.00 ➗16 ✖ 2 slices/sandwich = 25¢ 
Bread, mustard, mayo?  Add 50¢ 
Bottle of Bud: 79¢  (12 oz 20 pack special at WalMart)

TOTAL COST OF BALOGNA SAMMICH?  $1.54


Baloney WINS Again!!

Bottom line: While you’re gagging on your dose of Harvoni, I can have 730 baloney sandwiches.  Case closed!





















































































Sunday, March 4, 2018

Johnnie loved spritzers…and ABBA



You guys remember Johnnie Jay don’t you?  No??  Well lemme tell ‘ya…

Johnnie’s dad was a big time attorney.  His local claim to fame was presenting a case and making oral arguments before the US Supreme Court — and not very persuasively as it turns out.  In fact they were totally shot to smithereens and his case went down in flames in a 9-0 unanimous decision against his client!  When his missus got preggers he had his heart set on a boy he could name John after his hero John Jay, one of the Founding Fathers.  But he lost that case too when out popped out a she instead of a he!  And so it was that later that night, somewhere on the maternity floor of St. Mary’s hospital, John became Johnnie! 

I met her at school and for some reason I started calling her Johnnie Jetson, which later morphed into JJ the Princess of duh-duh-Dunedin.  But today’s she’s just good ‘ol JJ.  On the left is a picture of the lovely JJ back in her pageant days.  I think you’ll agree she cut quite a figure.

Through the years she’s also been known as: 
Miss Congeniality Johnnie, Pinot Noir JJ, Coxswain Johnnie, and now for 2018 you can add to that list...[drumroll] ...Gone but not Forgotten Johnnie!  

Apparently, she didn’t appreciate the sublime convenience of our relationship-by-reservation, or maybe it was my tagging every text message with #lockherup, or then again, maybe it was my new Zoso tat that sent her running. Whatever!  I’m sure she and her new fella, Erv are oh so very happy together.  (Erv. Seriously!?  LOL ðŸ˜‚😂)

So I’m dealing with all that drama - to say nothing of the fact that now I’ve got two tickets to Mama Mia that I’ll be lucky to scalp for face value!  Maybe Erv (😂) will buy them off me! 

Feeling just plain low down, I packed up my trusty six string, found a bench just off Silver Spring Dr. and began to play my Martin.
I was lucky enough to have a passerby record a snippet of me playing Johnnie's favorite song...an original number I wrote: Why You No Like My Pony?  Enjoy!





































































































































Saturday, February 10, 2018

You just never know




Mateus Rose, Cathy Fran, A Frog, Debster, Canned Ham & Cheese…and thou.

In February 1970, I took a Greyhound Bus to Boulder, CO to visit Cathy Fran for a long ski weekend. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and hiked from the bus station to the Kappa House with the directions I got from some guy wearing a CU sweatshirt. I found her balled up on a couch in the den.  After drinking several glasses of the Mateus Rose I had brought with me, she confided that she wanted to share a secret…that it was actually Debby Catalano who had coined the term, 'Kinetic Boy’.

Cathy recalled that one day in AP-Bio, Bob Hoeller fell off  Bill Crowley's lab table during some kind of science demonstration. He was holding up Mr. Crowley’s lab frog, singing to it and dancing some kind of jig when he slipped and fell off the table, crashing down onto the kids and desks in the front row. 

According to Cathy; “When Bob fell on top of us, we were all just tangled up together on the floor in one big mess. I saw the frog jump out of Bob's hand and watched it hop up Debby’s skirt!  Her face got all queasy looking and she started to squirm and yelp. And that’s when Bob lunged out to grab it!  As it turned out, what he actually grabbed was...well, let’s just say he didn’t get a handful of frog.  And that’s when Deb began yelling and swinging her fists at him!  The last thing I heard was a god awful growl erupting from somewhere deep inside her, as she screamed at the top of her lungs; “Get your goddamn hands off me, Kinetic Boy!!”  That's when Pam and I bolted out of the room and ran straight to the Girl’s lav for a smoke.

The next day when Deb wasn’t in class, I asked Mr. Crowley where she was. He said Deb had gone to ‘The Mound’ for a few days.  At the time I assumed he was referring to the Boy Scout’s Indian Mound camp outside Oconomowoc on Silver Lake — which I only knew about because Deb and I used to canoe across that lake late at night. Turns out I was waaay wrong!  Bill was actually referring to the Sinsinawan nuns, “Troubled Girl’s Retreat Center” located at The Mound, which was their secret nun headquarters. Oops-a-daisy!”

It was late. We finished off the last bottle of Mateus. Cathy promptly fell asleep on the couch. Well that’s just great!  Now what?   Starved, I went to the kitchen, rooted about and found a can of ham & cheese in the pantry.  Sliced it and stacked it on some Roman Meal bread.  Made a damn tasty midnight snack!


You’d think that’d be the end of the story, but it’s not...

It was many years later that we ran into Bobby Hoeller and Deb at Ozaukee Country Club.  They were relaxing after a round on the back veranda with Old Fashioneds.  
For what seemed like hours, we just sat back and laughed about old times.  When we reminisced about Bob's fall from Mr. Crowley’s lab table, my side was splitting from so much laughter!  
Bob suddenly turned very quiet, philosophical you might say.  He looked at me and said, "You know, all the lingering doubts I had about my sexual orientation were resolved that day thanks to that frog.”  Deb shot us a ‘knowing look’ across the table.  

Fortunately the cocktail waitress happened to stop by, breaking an awkward silence. “Another round folks?”
“Absolutely”, I said, “Bring us a bottle of Mateus!”