Anonymous Note:
PROLOGUE TO THE PREFACE, serving as a Preamble to the program which will act as an Overture for next spring's prolusion to the exordium
With respect to the aforementioned, let us be constantly and vigilantly reminded again to refrain from prostituting our God-given ability to indulge in the excising of our thoughts via our linguistic capacities. To prevent the birth of such an illegitimate offspring as the overworked cliche, be sure therefore to keep your shoulder to the wheel, your nose to the grindstone, and your hand on the throttle.
If all concerned will faithfully adopt such an uncompromising position, we shall certainly be able to prevent impregnation stemming from the rapacity of the overworked, yet fertile, cliche.
Once more, therefore, you are requested to gird your loins and resist any such temptations as the too-pregnant pause, and the resulting complications of an unfortunate, though ofttimes all too necessary, abortive attempt. Bear in mind that any such miscegenation must as an integral consequence give rise to intercourse which will have as its unfortunate outcome the necessity to next spring face the then too lately asked query, "How did it really happen?"
Sunday, June 30, 2019
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Addendum to F.F.E.
Lawyers tend to flex their legal muscles. Why? Because they can. And at no cost. Holden and firm sent a bill which they knew was without any legal basis because they know some people are intimidated when receiving a bill from a lawyer accompanied by the threat of a court appearance, and will pay, without question. The lawyer can't lose.
One more recent example, in Slingerlands this time. The other party agreed to a legal settlement, which was signed in a law office in the presence of several responsible adults. The matter was settled. But was it? Several months later, I received a certified notice from a law firm acting (ostensibly) on behalf of the aforementioned party, the same who had signed the agreement. The amount sought was $60,000. Again, there was no legal basis for the claim in my opinion but of course I had to engage another lawyer to make my case. I made no further payment on the closed agreement, except to the attorney who backed up my claim. I suspect that the motivation behind this billing was the thought that I would at least agree to a partial settlement. That fell flat, but in legal-speak, "You win some; you lose some." or "It's worth a try."
One more recent example, in Slingerlands this time. The other party agreed to a legal settlement, which was signed in a law office in the presence of several responsible adults. The matter was settled. But was it? Several months later, I received a certified notice from a law firm acting (ostensibly) on behalf of the aforementioned party, the same who had signed the agreement. The amount sought was $60,000. Again, there was no legal basis for the claim in my opinion but of course I had to engage another lawyer to make my case. I made no further payment on the closed agreement, except to the attorney who backed up my claim. I suspect that the motivation behind this billing was the thought that I would at least agree to a partial settlement. That fell flat, but in legal-speak, "You win some; you lose some." or "It's worth a try."
Former Fiduciary Extortion
When Ann D. died, she named me as Executor of her modest estate. Her attorney assigned me Fiduciary status. I came across this information when I was looking for something else. As a fiduciary, I not only had to do all the legwork in distributing her estate, but had to keep a detailed account of each and every expenditure. This despite the fact that I had declined to receive payment as executor, but opted to keep this money in the distribution pool.
The signed agreement with the law firm stipulated they were to be paid a percentage of the total estate, about $6,000, though really they did very little: I worked my fiduciary legs off, going back and forth to Ann's banks and such.
Anyway, everything worked out and the account for the estate was closed, or so it would seem. At the time, I had left a portion of the funds bequeathed to me in Ann's account, which was now in my name since I had been appointed executor, and I had distributed to the other heirs, paid any and all bills and claims against her property, including payment to the attorneys.
Almost a year went by when I received a bill from the attorneys, amounting to just over $1,000. They claimed that their agreement was for them to be compensated on an hourly basis, and this extra billing was for their time since the estate was settled. I reminded them that the agreement was for a percentage, not an hourly basis, and everything had been closed months ago. Their response was that they would see me in Court, before Judge Ceresia (probably the father of the present judge so named.)
Since I had (and still have) all the paperwork, I made copies and sent them along with a letter stating my case to Judge Ceresia.*** I know the case was dismissed. I think Ceresia's office called me and told me so because I have no copy of his decision. I did not have to pay, I did not have to go to Court, and I learned not to place your trust in law firms, even when they are apparently working for you and especially when the lead attorney's first name is Holden.
The takeaway lesson resulted in my strong resistance to the VA's proposal of my being named permanent fiduciary for financial accounting. It took some doing, over several months, and additional input from a very helpful doctor, but we eventually prevailed in having the acting fiduciary status rescinded. The fewer the better, as far as attorneys, agencies and money-grubbers are concerned.
Lesson Learned: Trust no one. Save everything.
***Thinking about this. I remember what happened. I'd called the Courthouse, spoke to the person in charge, Attorney Brown, I think. He said to send all my supporting material sto him, since I was disputing the bill, and wanted to be prepared for Court. I did so, but the packet got lost. I remember checking at the post office and the clerk remembered my sending the packet. It had left the Valley Falls office enroute to Troy. But it somehow got lost. So I re-copied all the pages and this time brought them to the court house in person and delivered them to the receiving party. Some time after that I was called and essentially told I could forget the matter.
The signed agreement with the law firm stipulated they were to be paid a percentage of the total estate, about $6,000, though really they did very little: I worked my fiduciary legs off, going back and forth to Ann's banks and such.
Anyway, everything worked out and the account for the estate was closed, or so it would seem. At the time, I had left a portion of the funds bequeathed to me in Ann's account, which was now in my name since I had been appointed executor, and I had distributed to the other heirs, paid any and all bills and claims against her property, including payment to the attorneys.
Almost a year went by when I received a bill from the attorneys, amounting to just over $1,000. They claimed that their agreement was for them to be compensated on an hourly basis, and this extra billing was for their time since the estate was settled. I reminded them that the agreement was for a percentage, not an hourly basis, and everything had been closed months ago. Their response was that they would see me in Court, before Judge Ceresia (probably the father of the present judge so named.)
Since I had (and still have) all the paperwork, I made copies and sent them along with a letter stating my case to Judge Ceresia.*** I know the case was dismissed. I think Ceresia's office called me and told me so because I have no copy of his decision. I did not have to pay, I did not have to go to Court, and I learned not to place your trust in law firms, even when they are apparently working for you and especially when the lead attorney's first name is Holden.
The takeaway lesson resulted in my strong resistance to the VA's proposal of my being named permanent fiduciary for financial accounting. It took some doing, over several months, and additional input from a very helpful doctor, but we eventually prevailed in having the acting fiduciary status rescinded. The fewer the better, as far as attorneys, agencies and money-grubbers are concerned.
Lesson Learned: Trust no one. Save everything.
***Thinking about this. I remember what happened. I'd called the Courthouse, spoke to the person in charge, Attorney Brown, I think. He said to send all my supporting material sto him, since I was disputing the bill, and wanted to be prepared for Court. I did so, but the packet got lost. I remember checking at the post office and the clerk remembered my sending the packet. It had left the Valley Falls office enroute to Troy. But it somehow got lost. So I re-copied all the pages and this time brought them to the court house in person and delivered them to the receiving party. Some time after that I was called and essentially told I could forget the matter.
Friday, June 28, 2019
Oh, Crap---It's not worth it.
After a slow start to the day, I decided to drive to Mechanicville to get: gas, bottled water and Kleenex. I was out, or almost so, of these 3 items, and I had a Price Chopper coupon for Poland Spring, 2 for $5.00.
My first stop was Cumberland Farms for gas. I don't have their discount card, but their price, at $2.69 per gal., is still lower than our local stations and I figured I'd be in Mechanicville anyway. I pulled up to the pump and inserted my L.L. Bean card, which I keep in my car for payments where I don't have to open my pocketbook, like drive-thrus and such. I tried several times, but my card would not go through. So I walked into the store and gave the clerk my credit card. He said it was declined, tried again, still notice of decline. I handed him another credit card. That was also declined. He asked me to go to the next register and said I should call my bank. I didn't see the point. I know I carry a considerable balance there, and I'd checked it only this morning. Could someone have hacked into my account and stolen the money?
At the second register, the same 2 credit cards were declined again. I handed the clerk a 3rd card, and same story---declined. I asked the clerk what the problem might be, and he said he had no idea. I needed gas, so paid with my last $20 bill.
I left for Price Chopper wondering if I had enough cash on me to buy the water and stuff. I was anxious to ge home and call the card companies and bank to figure out what had happened. I had to go home and call because my cellphone has been dead since the June 18 collision between a vehicle and a telephone pole near the Country Store.
I stopped at Price Chopper, bought my items, and tentatively presented my disgraced card at the register. No problem, the transaction went smoothly.
I lugged the 3 cartons of Poland Spring out of the store and toward my car, where I was parked in the front row. A man was crawling out from under the rear of my car, clutching money which had blown beneath it. Not just bending over, he was on his belly, stretched out beneath my car. I offered to move my car, but he thought he had gotten it all. As I was loading the H2O into my trunk, I realized I had not used my coupon. Moreover, I had bought toilet paper, of which I have a plentiful supply, instead of Kleenex, which I'm totally out of. I didn't care. I was anxious to get home and call about my credit.
I removed my L.L. Bean card from its slot in the car, planning to make it my first call. When I got into the house, card in hand, I saw the telephone on the floor, and the cat sitting where the phone should be. It made me mad because I had moved the plant from the center of the stand so the cat could have room on the OTHER side. Probably because I was late for its dinner, it decided to assert itself. Who knows. I had to tote the other stuff into the house before I made my calls. Finished with that, I wanted to call Customer Service at L. L. Bean first, but I had put the card down somewhere inside the house and I still can't find it.
So I called the second declined card, Synchrony, and after going through the menu hell, I reached a very kind representative who checked, found nothing out of line with my account, checked further and saw there was a "terminal break" at the gas station. Wouldn't you think at least one of the clerks might have had a suspicion?
I'm home now. My gas tank is less than half-filled, I have water, though bought coupon-less, I have no Kleenex, though a lot of toilet tissue, and I still can't find my L.L. Bean card.
I check my email to find first a request from MONOCARE Nannies and Household Staff for an employee reference. And a later thank you from the company for replying.
Beware. Be Aware.
Just because this is where you read it doesn't mean it isn't real. There are genetic factors which may, or may not, impact your health in the future. I don't make stuff up.
(1) On the paternal side, Hereditary Hemochromatosis:
The patient tested, DTS Sr., by SmithKline Beecham Chemical Laboratories in 1998, was found to be homozygous for the HFE Mutation, C282Y. Though some of these individuals may remain asymptomatic, the recommendation is that serum iron and ferritin levels be monitored, and if clinically indicated, that a therapeutic phlebotomy program be instituted.The testing so indicated and the phlebotomy program was adhered to for almost 20 years.
Early diagnosis is essential to avoid organ damage and to provide a normal life expectancy in affected individuals. This diagnosis is present in at least 1 of the patient's 2 brothers. Their father died fairly young, at age 69, from heart attack.
At-risk family members should benefit from HFE Mutation analysis.
This disease is an autosomal recessive disorder of iron metabolism characterized by abnormal iron absorption and progressive increase of Total Body Iron. The iron accumulates and at mid-life can cause cirrhosis, heart disease, diabetes, and liver cancer, as well as other conditions.
(2) Maternal side, Fuchs' Corneal Dystrophy
Let me add that just because your friendly ophthalmology practice does not emphasize the condition doesn't mean it isn't important. It means that the practice does not treat the condition. Many optometrists and opticians are unable to diagnose Fuchs' as they lack the equipment or training or both.
Fuchs' Dystrophy used to be the leading cause of blindness in this country. Diagnoses were difficult, and the treatment formerly was painful and painstaking with a long and rigorous recovery period, if it ever came to that.
Fuchs' is known as Fickle Fuchs' because the course it can take varies widely, from mild to near or total blindness.The treatment now is near miraculous in its sight-saving abilities.
I personally learned of my diagnosis by chance. The condition had been diagnosed by my ophthalmology practice years before, but Big Brother doctors can tend to withhold information which does not enhance their profit status. However, when the doctor I had been seeing referred me to another doctor for a totally different condition, she, reading my chart, remarked that of course I knew that I had a diagnosis of Fuchs' Dystrophy. No, I didn't. I'd never even heard of the term before. So I looked stuff up and found information. I learned that one of the dangers of the condition is that any procedure on the eyes can have devastating consequences. Lasik surgery should be avoided, and other procedures, such as cataract surgery, should have special precautions taken during the actual surgery or else the condition can be worsened. Knowing this, on the day(s) of my cataract surgeries, I asked Dr. Z. if he was going to use the gel during the surgery. I remember he seemed slightly surprised by the question, the word "gel" probably, but he said, "That's why I'm here." The surgeries were very successful, so he must have used all his expertise, and fortunately my Fuchs' has remained mild, to date.
You are born with the condition, so it affects both eyes, though one may be worse than the other. Each child of a person with Fuchs' has a 50% chance of having the disease, though symptoms typically don't appear until mid-life or later. The caution is that the children should know, before the need for any ocular surgeries, because of the risk of surgery if precautions are not taken. The Fuch's Corneal Dystrophy Site has numerous accounts of members undergoing what they expected to be helpful Lasik procedures, but which resulted in worsened eyesight.
I suppose we'll never know from whom we inherited the gene for corneal dystrophy, but I suspect it was on our mother's side. Many family members died young back then, before the disease presented itself. When my mother's eyesight began to fail, I brought her for cataract surgery, a somewhat barbaric procedure even in the late 1970's and her results were less than optimal. A few years later, I brought Helen for what was to be cataract surgery, but the doctor refrained, saying it would not help her. By the time of her death, she had been declared legally blind.
(1) On the paternal side, Hereditary Hemochromatosis:
The patient tested, DTS Sr., by SmithKline Beecham Chemical Laboratories in 1998, was found to be homozygous for the HFE Mutation, C282Y. Though some of these individuals may remain asymptomatic, the recommendation is that serum iron and ferritin levels be monitored, and if clinically indicated, that a therapeutic phlebotomy program be instituted.The testing so indicated and the phlebotomy program was adhered to for almost 20 years.
Early diagnosis is essential to avoid organ damage and to provide a normal life expectancy in affected individuals. This diagnosis is present in at least 1 of the patient's 2 brothers. Their father died fairly young, at age 69, from heart attack.
At-risk family members should benefit from HFE Mutation analysis.
This disease is an autosomal recessive disorder of iron metabolism characterized by abnormal iron absorption and progressive increase of Total Body Iron. The iron accumulates and at mid-life can cause cirrhosis, heart disease, diabetes, and liver cancer, as well as other conditions.
(2) Maternal side, Fuchs' Corneal Dystrophy
Let me add that just because your friendly ophthalmology practice does not emphasize the condition doesn't mean it isn't important. It means that the practice does not treat the condition. Many optometrists and opticians are unable to diagnose Fuchs' as they lack the equipment or training or both.
Fuchs' Dystrophy used to be the leading cause of blindness in this country. Diagnoses were difficult, and the treatment formerly was painful and painstaking with a long and rigorous recovery period, if it ever came to that.
Fuchs' is known as Fickle Fuchs' because the course it can take varies widely, from mild to near or total blindness.The treatment now is near miraculous in its sight-saving abilities.
I personally learned of my diagnosis by chance. The condition had been diagnosed by my ophthalmology practice years before, but Big Brother doctors can tend to withhold information which does not enhance their profit status. However, when the doctor I had been seeing referred me to another doctor for a totally different condition, she, reading my chart, remarked that of course I knew that I had a diagnosis of Fuchs' Dystrophy. No, I didn't. I'd never even heard of the term before. So I looked stuff up and found information. I learned that one of the dangers of the condition is that any procedure on the eyes can have devastating consequences. Lasik surgery should be avoided, and other procedures, such as cataract surgery, should have special precautions taken during the actual surgery or else the condition can be worsened. Knowing this, on the day(s) of my cataract surgeries, I asked Dr. Z. if he was going to use the gel during the surgery. I remember he seemed slightly surprised by the question, the word "gel" probably, but he said, "That's why I'm here." The surgeries were very successful, so he must have used all his expertise, and fortunately my Fuchs' has remained mild, to date.
You are born with the condition, so it affects both eyes, though one may be worse than the other. Each child of a person with Fuchs' has a 50% chance of having the disease, though symptoms typically don't appear until mid-life or later. The caution is that the children should know, before the need for any ocular surgeries, because of the risk of surgery if precautions are not taken. The Fuch's Corneal Dystrophy Site has numerous accounts of members undergoing what they expected to be helpful Lasik procedures, but which resulted in worsened eyesight.
I suppose we'll never know from whom we inherited the gene for corneal dystrophy, but I suspect it was on our mother's side. Many family members died young back then, before the disease presented itself. When my mother's eyesight began to fail, I brought her for cataract surgery, a somewhat barbaric procedure even in the late 1970's and her results were less than optimal. A few years later, I brought Helen for what was to be cataract surgery, but the doctor refrained, saying it would not help her. By the time of her death, she had been declared legally blind.
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
What's in a name, or two? Cabbage Patch Legacy
There was a time when girls, ahead of the women's empowerment movement, wanted their first names to be short and sparing of excess syllables. Witness Yvonne who changed to Sue,Sarah Wayne who morphed to Laurie, Iva Jane who went by Tink, and all the carefully chosen middle names that were never used. Mothers used to pore through Baby Books to find just the right combination of names, and the girls seldom acknowledged they even had a middle name. To make the burden of a carefully chosen accompaniment to a first name that would be relatively painless later on , the main choices dwindled to Ann and Lee.
Then the Cabbage Patch craze happened: the adorable little dolls arrived with birth certificates that bore one rather old-fashioned name combined with another of the same genre, though not commonly used together.
That generation of girls who loved their Cabbage Patch dolls has now come of age, and we see the effects: Formerly plain Melissa is Melissa Anne, Elizabeth is Elizabeth May, Amelia is Amelia Carole, Ashley is Ashley Angela, Laura is Laura Melanie. And so it goes...
Then the Cabbage Patch craze happened: the adorable little dolls arrived with birth certificates that bore one rather old-fashioned name combined with another of the same genre, though not commonly used together.
That generation of girls who loved their Cabbage Patch dolls has now come of age, and we see the effects: Formerly plain Melissa is Melissa Anne, Elizabeth is Elizabeth May, Amelia is Amelia Carole, Ashley is Ashley Angela, Laura is Laura Melanie. And so it goes...
Tuesday, June 25, 2019
Sunday, June 23, 2019
Pickers' Delight
A man posted a picture on local community site showing a load of trash that had been dumped off on his road, not a particularly well-traveled road. His post has been shared almost 90,000 times, across the country. Probably because one of the many items dumped off was an old claw-foot bath tub. When the picture was first posted, others drove out to try to claim the tub. But it was gone, and quickly. He says he's now kicking himself because so many people are telling him how valuable the tub is. So, one man's trash...
Saturday, June 22, 2019
Pictures from the Past
Old pictures from Joseph S. Madigan's estate, which is all he left. I see Charles Madigan in one of the post cards from a parade in upstreet Valley Falls. (Joe?) I assume Joe and wife are pictured. No names on any of the pics--"we thought we'd never forget."
As to Death Notice for Patrick Madigan, I wonder why survivors Kate and Mary Sweeney(?) are not listed. Most likely, we'll never know.
As to Death Notice for Patrick Madigan, I wonder why survivors Kate and Mary Sweeney(?) are not listed. Most likely, we'll never know.
Thursday, June 20, 2019
New Shoes!!!???
I don't know why they thought I needed new shoes for my birthday. I already have a pair.
Wednesday, June 19, 2019
NX...
Now that a guilty verdict has been rendered, can we have a new trial to see if the adult victims are sane enough to live unsupervised lives?
The Best I Can Do--For Now Anyway
I discarded enough so I could get it all in one large tote bag. I don't know how many sheets of paper, but it weighs 12 lbs.
Parole
He slept good last night because he dreamt he was home in his own bed, that seemed queen-size in comparison to now. He'd had a doctor's visit and had to stay over at home. He knew the dream was over when he opened his eyes and saw the bed rails.
Tuesday, June 18, 2019
Surveying the Property (So to speak)
I had my camera with me today as I walked around. I saw several snakes. I guess they're all garden or garter snakes, but they are different in color and markings. I noted that something chomped off the hosta plants on the corner of the house. That might be a woodchuck, but the stems are high, as is the tall jewel weed plant. So I suspect a deer or maybe a bear. See: (There are also pics of my outdoor array of plants in the back, of my front "garden" where I have a single potato plant, an onion, and some sunflowers as well as incipient morning glories struggling to find a place to climb. I didn't know what seeds I was trying to plant. The others didn't germinate. I moved Dorothy's pomegranate tree outside. Hope the varmints stay away. If the grapevine didn't get blight as it has for the past 10 years, you can see what a grape harvest there'd be. I used to make grape juice and grape jelly back in its productive years. I don''t know why I have 2 of these junctures on the side of the house. One is for fuel, I think.
Doublespeak, Double-Think, Double Negative
I read the paper every day, mostly to relax, and of course to solve the Cryptoquip. Any serious news would have been announced on TV, right? But I read the paper anyway, until every once in a while I ask myself what have I just read. I don't quite get the meaning, I guess from the habit of casually skimming the headlines.
Case in point is article in today's paper: "Justices uphold double jeopardy rule."
I'm pretty sure I know what double jeopardy means, that it is a ban on trying a person twice for the same crime.
But the double jeopardy RULE is different. It is an exception to the ban.
There must be a justifiable rationale for prohibiting double jeopardy, just as there must be reason for a rule allowing that ban to be overthrown.
I feel as if I'm back in Government Logic 101 Class. Double negative type situations were always a challenge for me. Good or bad. I guess it depends on the circumstances.
Conclusion: Upholding the double jeopardy rule means that double jeopardy is allowed. (In some cases anyway.)
Furthermore, on closer reading of another article, the gunman was wearing a balaclava, not a baklava.
Case in point is article in today's paper: "Justices uphold double jeopardy rule."
I'm pretty sure I know what double jeopardy means, that it is a ban on trying a person twice for the same crime.
But the double jeopardy RULE is different. It is an exception to the ban.
There must be a justifiable rationale for prohibiting double jeopardy, just as there must be reason for a rule allowing that ban to be overthrown.
I feel as if I'm back in Government Logic 101 Class. Double negative type situations were always a challenge for me. Good or bad. I guess it depends on the circumstances.
Conclusion: Upholding the double jeopardy rule means that double jeopardy is allowed. (In some cases anyway.)
Monday, June 17, 2019
The Basis: One of Many Precedents
Uncovered in the dead
of night. Lesson learned: if you plow through the archives, going back decades, locate appeals that have gone through the court process, some taking many years to do so, collect a sheaf of cases that support your premise and substantiate your claim, which has moved to appeal status, then maybe, just maybe, you can find some professional, therefore more highly regarded in the VA than you the individual, to agree to help you with your appeal. Because it's unlikely that any paid professional is going to burn the midnight oil uncovering evidence from long ago, especially when a remand is most often the VA response, which can take years, even if success is the outcome. You have to do your own slog work.
How It Went Down
Now it can be told. It was Wednesday afternoon, June 12, 2019. I received a call from R. saying Joe M. was at SnS, grocery shopping, and had locked his car keys in his vehicle. After he finished shopping, he would call R. who was to call me. Meanwhile, I was on standby.
I figured by then, after he had finished shopping, he would then have groceries in his cart to contend with in addition to his being locked out of his car. So I decided to drive to Schaghticoke to assess the situation. I armed myself with a coat hanger, though I realize most door locks no longer lend themselves to that type of manipulation. But I went old-school anyway.
Joe would have been inside the store, shopping, but I easily found his vehicle and noticed that the driver-side front window was rolled down several inches. I looked in and saw the keys located in the drink cup between the front seats.
I straightened out the coat hanger and reached in as far as I could, and succeeded in inserting the hook of the hanger into the keyring. I tried to lift it up and out, but the keyring slid off the hanger and deeper into the cup hole. It was just out of my reach. I went into the store to locate Joe, who was just approaching the checkout, to apprise him of my efforts. He thought that maybe he would be able to reach the keys through the partly opened window, though I had my doubts.
He has Roadside Assistance, which could have come to his aid, but we didn't mind continuing efforts ourselves. The day was bright and sunny, and in probably about half an hour, I had the door unlocked. The car alarm sounded. I went into the store and told Joe, who said that would stop when he put the key in the ignition, and it did.We loaded the groceries into his car, and he was preparing to drive home. I was walking over to where my car was parked when the Sheriff's car pulled up in front of me, and two deputies got out and started walking toward me. I assumed they might have been responding to the now-silenced car alarm. I told them the problem was resolved, that the locked car had been opened. No problem, guys. But, as it turned out, that is not why they were here.
One of them told me they had received a call, from inside SnS, that a woman wearing a pink shirt was trying to break into a car in their parking lot. ( I felt like saying that my shirt was rust-colored, not pink, a color I don't wear, but figured that would not help, that the less said, the better.) Anyway, there was a peaceful resolution, with one deputy expressing admiration for the act of opening the door, saying he himself had tried unsuccessfully with his wife's car. Again, I did not go into details as to how the process unfolded.
They completed their investigation by asking me where my car was, as Joe was driving away. I pointed my car out, an easy thing to do as that's where I was headed before they interrupted me. Their final words to me were: "When we get a call, we have to come."
As to what idiot had called the police to make the report, I guess I'll never know. Someone into the motto of see something, say something, most likely. But what about trying to help an old woman who was apparently locked out of her vehicle, you jerk.
I figured by then, after he had finished shopping, he would then have groceries in his cart to contend with in addition to his being locked out of his car. So I decided to drive to Schaghticoke to assess the situation. I armed myself with a coat hanger, though I realize most door locks no longer lend themselves to that type of manipulation. But I went old-school anyway.
Joe would have been inside the store, shopping, but I easily found his vehicle and noticed that the driver-side front window was rolled down several inches. I looked in and saw the keys located in the drink cup between the front seats.
I straightened out the coat hanger and reached in as far as I could, and succeeded in inserting the hook of the hanger into the keyring. I tried to lift it up and out, but the keyring slid off the hanger and deeper into the cup hole. It was just out of my reach. I went into the store to locate Joe, who was just approaching the checkout, to apprise him of my efforts. He thought that maybe he would be able to reach the keys through the partly opened window, though I had my doubts.
He has Roadside Assistance, which could have come to his aid, but we didn't mind continuing efforts ourselves. The day was bright and sunny, and in probably about half an hour, I had the door unlocked. The car alarm sounded. I went into the store and told Joe, who said that would stop when he put the key in the ignition, and it did.We loaded the groceries into his car, and he was preparing to drive home. I was walking over to where my car was parked when the Sheriff's car pulled up in front of me, and two deputies got out and started walking toward me. I assumed they might have been responding to the now-silenced car alarm. I told them the problem was resolved, that the locked car had been opened. No problem, guys. But, as it turned out, that is not why they were here.
One of them told me they had received a call, from inside SnS, that a woman wearing a pink shirt was trying to break into a car in their parking lot. ( I felt like saying that my shirt was rust-colored, not pink, a color I don't wear, but figured that would not help, that the less said, the better.) Anyway, there was a peaceful resolution, with one deputy expressing admiration for the act of opening the door, saying he himself had tried unsuccessfully with his wife's car. Again, I did not go into details as to how the process unfolded.
They completed their investigation by asking me where my car was, as Joe was driving away. I pointed my car out, an easy thing to do as that's where I was headed before they interrupted me. Their final words to me were: "When we get a call, we have to come."
As to what idiot had called the police to make the report, I guess I'll never know. Someone into the motto of see something, say something, most likely. But what about trying to help an old woman who was apparently locked out of her vehicle, you jerk.
Saturday, June 15, 2019
Detritus: Claim First Submitted, 8-22-2017
C&P Claim was submitted for the first time on August 22, 2017, after extensive research. After denial, Claim was submitted several more times until the VA reversed their initial decision, and granted approval in September 2018.
I spent many, many hours, many after midnight, accumulating thousands of pages in support of our claim. The VA's granting of the claim seemed as if it took a lifetime, though the average response time then was estimated at 5 to 7 years, and ours took little more than a year. He was eligible for expediting of his claim, but that was not automatic; we requested and received help from local politicians. Though the expedited claim was also denied, at least we could move on to the next course of action, whatever that might be. In our case, that involved seeking out a law firm who would agree to take our arcane and fairly rare basis of appeal, and searching for additional medical opinions. We finally succeeded in each of these pursuits, and happened upon a doctor whose extraordinary diligence led to the granting of our claim.
The process resulted in a vast amount of downloaded papers, of all types and from all available sources, and constant refills of Epson
Printer ink. After the appeal was granted, I attempted to sort through the unneeded accumulation, and discarded, at first about one-third of the mass, and a while later, about another third. I still have in my house 3 totebags of papers. I am again trying to reduce the pile. I tell myself that almost everything is now on the computer, in his C-file, notated on the ebenefits Veterans' page. I tell myself to just throw everything away: nobody's eyes are ever going to look at any of this, the hands of no other are ever going to try to collate the information. But so far, I am blocked as to further riddance. And, really,
no one wants to help.
I spent many, many hours, many after midnight, accumulating thousands of pages in support of our claim. The VA's granting of the claim seemed as if it took a lifetime, though the average response time then was estimated at 5 to 7 years, and ours took little more than a year. He was eligible for expediting of his claim, but that was not automatic; we requested and received help from local politicians. Though the expedited claim was also denied, at least we could move on to the next course of action, whatever that might be. In our case, that involved seeking out a law firm who would agree to take our arcane and fairly rare basis of appeal, and searching for additional medical opinions. We finally succeeded in each of these pursuits, and happened upon a doctor whose extraordinary diligence led to the granting of our claim.
The process resulted in a vast amount of downloaded papers, of all types and from all available sources, and constant refills of Epson
Printer ink. After the appeal was granted, I attempted to sort through the unneeded accumulation, and discarded, at first about one-third of the mass, and a while later, about another third. I still have in my house 3 totebags of papers. I am again trying to reduce the pile. I tell myself that almost everything is now on the computer, in his C-file, notated on the ebenefits Veterans' page. I tell myself to just throw everything away: nobody's eyes are ever going to look at any of this, the hands of no other are ever going to try to collate the information. But so far, I am blocked as to further riddance. And, really,
Friday, June 14, 2019
Wednesday, June 12, 2019
Love in Lake Placid
Now it can be told: it is part of my life story. And a long, long time ago... It was a great vacation, and I was personally saluted from the hockey rink by the entire Ottawa Police Hockey Team. I am trying to clean out all the stuff from my house, and found this among a stack of love letters, if that's what they're called. And after the game, we went out dancing and whatever.
The Family United Untied
I assume this is a Madigan reunion. There were 5 Madigan brothers + Kate and Lizzie. I see Charles in the back row, 5th person from the right. Joe may be on the far left, or maybe the right, unless that's Walter or Edmund, or someone else. Frank, the youngest and tallest, may be that guy. Everyone else is lost to me, though we probably never saw many of them. I suspect these people pictured will remain unidentified from now '
til eternity. (I think the girl standing in the front wearing the floral dress looks something like young pictures of me. Not the legs though.
Monday, June 10, 2019
Flowers in June
Sort of like a memory garden: (1)Purple Butterwort (?) from Rosemary's front yard with yellow lillies, maybe from the VFL annual sale, (2) Honeysuckle bush that Dorothy gave me when she was re-doing her flower garden, (3) White Peony from Dorothy, (4) Pink Peonies from Matt's flower garden that Dave dug up before the house was sold. I think he might have brought them from "over home" via 10th Street. On the right end are peonies Ma gave us when we moved to this house.
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