I Owe Amber A Round

Apparently I’m now the proud owner of a bar tab (maybe a large one), at the Dinghy Dock Bar, in Sint Maarten.

That’s right…I have a tab at a bar I haven’t been to (yet), 1,600+ miles from Greenville, SC where I live, (now).
Now, I’m no stranger to international bar tabs. I still can’t go back to Marbella, but at least I was there that night. I know this because when I woke up the next morning on the train to Madrid, I found a crumpled up cocktail napkin in the front pocket of my jeans. It was from a seedy dive bar on the backstreets of the Puerto Banús (great place!)  'Someone' had written on the back of the napkin; Don’t forget to wake up Dale!  Looking around the 1st Class couchette that Anita had reserved for the three of us, and seeing just the two of us, it was evident that ‘someone’ had forgotten to wake up Dale!  Oops!  muwawaahaha!

But back to Amber at the Dinghy.

All of this began with my friend - let’s just call him, 'Bob Shmeggert'. It wouldn’t be right to tell you his real name and then lose sleep because I exposed him, (and his unlicensed dog), to any number of Federal banking and tax agencies and probably INTERPOL as well. 

Anyway, against all odds, Hurricane Irma, and other existential crises, Mr. Shmeggert built for us, his best friends, a fantastic home away from home on the Dutch side of Sint Maarten.

The pool, located just outside the formal guest bedroom known as, 'The Monkey Room' is a mixture of Blue Agave Tequila, some water for buoyancy, and a variety of liquified cannabis distillates.

And on that island there's a bar. You guessed right, it’s the Dinghy Dock Bar.  
And who did Mr. Shmeggert meet at that bar?  That’s right; he met Amber. 
And what happened next is admittedly a matter of conjecture, but it’s based on many, many years of empirical observations. 

A man walks into a bar, hungry & thirsty...and likely zonked. 
All he wants is a tasty burger, some cold beer and a game on satellite TV. [Note: what happens next is what we call: The Matter of Conjecture, but trust me when I say it’s 99% certain)

As he finishes his burger, some people sit down next to him. He overhears one of the girls ordering the exact same giant burger he just finished.  This would be, Amber.

Seeing his opening, Shmeggert suavely leans over to her and says, “I bet you can’t!”
She’s like, “WTF?!” 
[Note: remember, this is what I imagine the conversation to have been]

HIM: I bet you can’t get your whole mouth around that burger!
HER: The hell I can’t!
HIM: Care to make it interesting??
HER: Whaddya got big boy?
HIM: If you can do it, then I lose the bet, and Murph will buy you a round.
HER: And if I can’t??
HIM: Then I win and you owe me a BJ! [Note: this is probably 99.99% accurate].
HER: You’re on! 
HIM: {starts daydreaming of his winnings}

Long story short, out comes her ginormous burger. Annnd….

Turns out this woman was born with some kind of magical, double hinged mandible - a hamburger black hole you might say. Good for sooo many things. She basically took out half the burger in one giant chomp! 
Mr. Shmeggert is stunned & amazed!
This cracks up everybody, particularly Amber, who obviously sandbagged Mr. Shmeggert and now rightly expects her complimentary round: compliments of moi!

LET’S FAST FORWARD TO THE CONVERSATION WITH THE WAITRESS AND THE OWNER…

You know how it works; There was lots of backslapping and good natured ribbing about Amber and her Magic Mouth.
The waitress stopped by to remove the remnants of the demolished burger and casually asked, “Another round?”

Amber waved her arm above her head in a circle - the international sign for, “Drinks for everybody!”
A few minutes later, out comes the tray of drinks to which Amber says, pointing at Shmeggert, “It’s on him!”
To which he says, “It’s on Murph!”

In my years of professional experience with waitresses (servers, waitrons) one thing is certain: They HATE IT when customers start jacking them around with who’s paying!  And this one was no exception and decided to simply have the owner straighten things out (this further cracked up Amber ((see photo above))

The owner was cool. Bob assured him that I’d be down there “next month” at which time he bring me in and I’d settle up (this strategy only works on a small island where there’s no chance of Bob escaping)  The owner agreed to this with one condition. He handed Bob the menu, and read him the fine print at the bottom (see below) which Bob agreed to on my behalf.

So now I owe not just the 15% gratuity, but the Asshole Tax as well!  

With all those messy details ironed out, Bob invited all of them out onto the deck for a celebration, on me, in my honor!

What a guy!!

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.

Here’s a very interesting article that echos many of the same things...

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation-now/2017/11/07/red-cross-floundered-hurricane-harvey-relief-effort-texas-leaders-residents-say/839619001/

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!

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 🎶	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!

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 😂😂)

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!