Liar (N0, not who you think)

 I had a primary care doctor in his Waterford office, Dr. C. He left his practice abruptly and was replaced by Dr. N. My first 2  few visits to her were uneventful, but my last visit was different. The nurse had shown me to a waiting room. I waited a very long time. I went to the door and peered down a long hallway and was able to see Dr. N. in a glass-paned office at the end of the hall. She was chatting with another woman, and for a long time. I waited and waited in my exam room, so long that the nurse came by, assuming I had seen the doctor and wondered why was I still waiting. I told her the doctor had not been in. She left to talk to the doctor, and returned to tell me that the doctor had been to see me, but had said the room was empty, that I must have left to go to the bathroom, so she had seen other patients.  I had not set foot outside the examining room, until then. I left and never went back.

Yes, but...Virtual signaling, Apologists, Blah, Blah, Blah

    Yes, Democrats, we know, it's a mess. A great number of people voted for the incumbent, and we were not prepared for that, the Republicans gained seats in both the House and the Senate, much of the country is still under the spell of their Chosen One, the transition will be awkward and painful, COVID will remain disastrous for a while, the economy is in the dumps, our international status is in the basement, security threats are escalated.  There are many things to be concerned about . There is a lot of work to be done. There are recriminations about what Democrats should have done better.

   But enough of the self flagellations and regrets for now.  Let us rejoice---TRUMP, ALONG WITH  HIS DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY,  HAS BEEN VOTED OUT OF THE WHITE HOUSE.

Self Aggrandizing---Who cares?

     It was  some time in the early 1980's that I was invited to join the Board of Trustees of the Valley Falls Library. It seems the Board was short of members since 2 of the long-time members had passed away. I think there were only 4 women left, including B. , who may have been the one who submitted my name. 

  The VFL then was a stand-alone entity, a building with books and little else, and very short on income.  One of the then-trustees would recount the times the library had insufficient funds to pay its fuel bill. There were other options for added revenue, such as expanding its area out of the Village  but I was told that was not a possibility because our  Charter limited our area to the Village of Valley Falls. Unfortunately, a copy of the Charter was not available, due to a housekeeping cleanout by an overzealous trustee some years before.

   But I found out that high on the wall of the library was a framed copy of the original Charter. So one day I moved a table beneath that framed document, took down the vintage item and actually read it. The wording read the area was chartered to "The Village of Valley Falls and surrounding areas." That opened up a whole new world as far as increasing the library's population and therefore sources of income. I made copies of the Charter before returning it to its place on the wall. And we went on from there. Most likely, these findings would have happened anyway; that's if the library had been able to survive long enough.

   Needless to say, this did not increase my popularity with the long-established provincial members.  I didn't care, then or now.

  

A Cry for Help

   When we were kids, we would never take the long way around if we could go off the beaten path. For most of the time, the cinder block building next to our house was not in use. Next to that building was the Valley Inn, which had a wide gravel driveway which almost touched on the driveway to the Post Office. Actually, in most weather, you could bypass the Valley Inn driveway and cut through directly behind the building straight to the Post Office or to the sidewalk on Main Street. 

   That was the path all the kids on the street followed. There was a well-worn footpath behind the buildings. This route was not hidden by any means. It was a clear and open passage right from our back yard. You could see right through to Main Street (as we called State Street then.) In memory, I can see my mother standing in the kitchen window. She would wait there when we were little and we'd turn and wave good-bye to  her when we reached the sidewalk on our way to school.

   So it felt like familiar and safe territory. And it was until one day, as she returned  from  the post office, we heard Dorothy  on the path, running and crying and yelling out loud. It even drew my father's attention, and he went outside. Dorothy, about 9 years old at the time,  was being chased by a much older boy, Bobby C. who was running after her yelling the F-word over and over. She was a fast runner and made it safely home, Her pursuer slunk back and away, not approaching our house. We never knew what motivated his behavior:   Triggered by a child's flaming red hair, or his being "not quite right."

   

Strikeovers and Sirens in the Early Hours on 10-26-1957

     My college years. So many papers, if you majored in English. Lengthy ones, with deadlines, and they had to be typed. I was an okay, but not great typist, and any mistakes were not acceptable, as I recall. No strikeovers or erasures, so many times the page had to be discarded and you had to start over. Of course I never had enough time, and most often worked on the paper throughout the night.

    One winter night, I was doing just that, finishing a lengthy  assigned paper that as usual was due the next day. ELO was helping me by typing the pages as they rolled off my numb mind. We were in the kitchen when  we heard the sirens, first from the firehouse and then from fire engines. They sounded close. So what else but to get in the car to find out where. We followed the glare in the sky to what was Coon Road. I think their farm was about the only habitation on that road at the time, a rather bleak and impoverished and deserted-looking array of farmhouse and outbuildings. We drove by and saw the house standing but one of the sheds was on fire---red flames shooting up in the air. A chicken coop,  someone told us. We went home, finished the paper and the next day the newspaper carried the story that Bobby Coon's wife and children died in the fire. They were living in the chicken coop. Nobody seemed to know how many died,  his wife and kids, maybe a total of 5 deaths.

    The date was October 26, 1957. The deaths were Beverly Coon, age 22 and her 4 children, ages 3, 2. 1 and a baby. Robert Coon was burned, but escaped.

Turkeys Unaware

 Driving past  Hill's turkey farm on Rte. 40 in Schaghticoke, it seems the flock of white turkeys has decreased in size. And they're gathered closer together, maybe because of the colder weather, or could  be they think there's safety in numbers. It don't look good for them, even at $4.58 per lb.

License to Lie

    Perhaps not a representative sample, but it could be so, as modeled from the top down:   A woman posts on a sales site that she is selling one of those pricey baby items that end up unused, unnecessary. She says it is in new condition, with all parts present, but that the store, Walmart's or such, would not take it back, probably because it was past the return date. So she is listing it for sale. 

   In a comment on her sale site, a woman proposes that she tell the store that a part was missing. The store, Walmart's, will then accept it as a return. It seems likely she has done this herself, according to her assurance.  Not only would this be an outright lie, there is no shame attached. She may as well have told the would-be seller to steal something. Except for avoiding the likelihood of being caught in her lie, what she proposes is fraud, tantamount to theft. And  to publicly broadcast the lie, as if proud of the deception, signifies the decline of any moral compass. "Have you no shame?"