Hantavirus

Some lessons from Infectious Disease class are long forgotten.  In some cases, the data I do remember are way outdated. But Hantavirus is one I’ll never forget. It’s still – if left untreated – just as fatal as ever. I guess one reason it sticks with me, besides the severity, is the unusual mode of transmission:  Mouse droppings. So, if you’re seeing a patient with severe upper respiratory symptoms and you ask him/her if they’ve been cleaning out old chicken coops or forgotten corners of a dusty barn – these are favorite places for mice to leave a special “something” behind – and their answer is “yes?” Well, “Hantavirus” is way up there on your list of possible diagnoses.

The reason all this is relevant right now is that today I finally got around to clearing out the back corner of our “wood room.” This is the room where my home office is located. It hadn’t been touched in the nearly 8 years that we’ve lived here. Please don’t ask why. There are just some things you’re better off not knowing. But anyway, that back corner was still stacked with boxes of old unused stuff. And of course on the floor in between all those boxes sat the perfect medium for Hantavirus. We won’t even think about the mice who hunkered down there. But that’s my story and I’m sticking by it. Warts and mouse droppings and all.

Anyway, I started coughing and wheezing from breathing in all the accumulated dust. So I told my wife that if I were to keel over and end up being wheeled unconscious into an ER somewhere, she should tell the Infectious Disease resident on call to “Think Hantavirus.” Not that I’m skeptical of residents on call – but there you have it. My wife was not amused.

 

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Under the rubric of “all’s well that ends well,” I’m still standing. And not only that, but I uncovered some long lost tidbits in the boxes, including this priceless photo array of me and my 5th grade classmates at York Springs Elementary. Can you tell which one is me? C’mon, squint. Hint: Besides Mr. Messersmith – top row, center – only Joe Weigel and I are rocking the necktie look. And in Joe’s case, it’s a bow tie.  There. Who said we don’t make it easy for you, huh?  On the off chance these thumbnails are too small for you, you can see the same photo on my FB page, here. And of course, the same shot of me is featured (and enlarged) on the “About DEW” tab of this site, here.

As promised, most of the names are named in my mom’s looping script from the back side of the photo below. And yes, Mom was just a little OCD. Not that I inherited any of it of course.  🙂

 

Sorry, Mike, our optometrist at the time was Dr. Waddell, so mom always spelled your last name with the extra “d” and extra “l”.

 

 

Hurry Up And Wait

 Hurry up and wait.

Some days  – like today – that’s the message,

though the news is hardly new.

 

Hurry Up And Wait

 

Fact is, I have said this before.

And if you don’t believe me, see #3, here.

Yeah, that’s right, the new implementation date is end of July.

So, as always, it’s a good news – bad news kind of deal:

Good for me and health care coverage,

bad for – well, you know – retirement and all that.

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Last but not least, the  hurry up and wait stop sign visual above brings to mind my favorite signs – road side and otherwise – from past posts, which I’m revisiting below, starting with a dual meditation on “easements” and ending with… well, you’ll see.

 

 

OUR dogs versus YOUR dogs.

Placeholder

Hurry Up And Wait - Patience! Hurry Up And Wait - 1945.

Two Rules - Gone Grammar.

My all time favorite – by far.

Paying Close Attention

Those of you paying close attention may remember that I love Mark Twain, while I am somewhat less sanguine about statistics. The following image highlights both of these facts at a single stroke.

 

Mark Twain paying close attention

 

With that as preamble, take a look at the following graph – paired with a related headline – and tell me what you see.

 

CD versus vinyl

 

Don’t be hoodwinked. While it is certainly true that vinyl sales have recently crept above CD sales, and while that particular message may be congenial to those who own a turntable, surely the big takeaway here is that something else (not pictured) caused sales of physical music media to fall off a cliff in the early 2000’s. And as someone who is intimately involved in physical supply chain systems at the world’s largest music company, I am here to tell you that the elephant in this particular music room is digital streaming. Not surprising, perhaps; but also not readily apparent with the selective picture presented above. Full story from NottheBee is here, btw.

Why care? Well, maybe you don’t, but I do. It is my business, after all. Also, I don’t own a turntable. But beyond all marketing ploys, anything I can do to increase statistical literacy in the face of an onslaught of slick graphics in this old world is a service I’ll gladly continue to render. Whether you were paying close attention or not.

 

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On a not unrelated note, due to projected revenue shortfalls last year, Universal Music Group (UMG) chairman Sir Lucian Grainge recently took a pay cut – down to $5 million annually – for his services as the company’s CEO. Given that he took home some $300 million the prior year, news of this change back in March was nothing short of jaw-dropping. However – not to worry, venture capital fans – with the full story in the light of day, a slightly more complex picture emerges.

As part of UMG’s initial listing on the Amsterdam stock exchange last year, increased scrutiny of executive compensation was all part of the deal. And given Sir Lucian’s key role in UMG going public, maybe the $100 million bonus he received then was not entirely out of line. Still, there’s now investor push back on the bonus part of his award package. Justified or not, as a publicly traded company, there are new sets of eyes on the corporate scoreboard. And you can be darn sure those eyes are paying close attention to everything affecting the bottom line – including Sir Lucian’s bonus.

Or, as Mark Twain might have said… well, you know.

 

 

Size About Right

Well, Tucker, we had a pretty good run.

And let me say this about that:

At least you got the size about right.

 

Size About Right
“Not only are his HANDS tiny…”

 

As for emails/texts contradicting on-air pronouncements, not so much.

 

Ah well, it is ever true:

There are at least 787 million good reasons Fox News had to let him go.

 

NPR coverage, for those who just can’t get enough, is here.

 

Swamp Life

Here’s some good advice for those living the swamp life…

“You can distinguish an alligator from a crocodile by paying attention to whether the animal sees you later, or in a while.”

Stay tuned to this station for more useful life hacks.

 

Swamp life - gators

Later, Gator.

Let’s Celebrate

There is so much to be grateful for, so let’s celebrate: The sun is out. The snow is melting. And we made it through tax season with nary a scratch. Woo hoo!

 

Lets celebrate!
This message is brought to you by TaxAct, providers of do-it-yourself tax prep software.
The indictment is behind us, and now no one – well, no one besides 45’s accountant – is in jail.

 

South Rim selfie taken a few weeks back before… well, you know. Although I’m off my feet for a while to let my big toe heal, the trails will soon be dried out and I’ll be back at it – the Good Lord and my podiatrist willing.

 

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Last but not least, my daughter’s Peace Corps paperwork for a new posting to Timor-Leste finally came through. You can send her congrats here if you’re on FB.  Anyone unfamiliar with this far-flung corner of the world, stay tuned for future updates. So, I say, let’s celebrate. And let the next adventure begin!

Cat Poem

This one goes out to my long-time Midtown Scholar friend and her beloved Silas. And to my cousin, also in Harrisburg, whose email is kjfcatlover. Also to my UK daughter – plus any neighborhood strays who happen to be visiting her in Brum – from my favorite experimental poet, Brian Bilston. It’s called:

 

On ‘;..p’[[[[[[[[[[[[[;’;////////////////////////3,’.

Cat Poem
Devastating final line, piercing the heart.

 

‘““““`5555=======================’.

 

Indeed.

The Birds

Just watched Hitchcock’s “The Birds” on Netflix. First time I’ve seen it since I was 10 years old. A couple of things stand out here over a half century later:

1) Lead actress Tippi Hedren in her big screen debut plays a character named Melanie, same name as Hedren’s real life daughter, actress Melanie Griffith.

2) Alfred Hitchcock always put himself in a cameo role in each of his films. In this one, the opening sequence shows him walking two fluffy leashed dogs out the revolving front door of an office building opposite Hedren walking in.

3) Hitchcock’s enduring preoccupation with Freudian analysis bubbles to the surface in a comment by supporting actress Suzanne Pleshette who says off-hand to Hedren while discussing lead actor Rod Taylor’s off-kilter relationship with his creepy mother played by a middle-aged Jessica Tandy: “A clinging possessive mother? Wrong! With all due respect to Oedipus, I don’t think that was the case at all.”

4) Speaking of psychopathology, and a wry nod to Anthony Perkins’ twisted relationship with his mummified mother’s remains in Psycho: If Alfred Hitchcock wasn’t already in intensive psychotherapy during the time he made these two movies, he really should have been.

5) Strikingly, although set in 1963 and with the Bodega Bay populace under attack by rampaging hordes of seagulls and crows, not one single person seems to have owned either a shotgun or had any ammunition containing bird shot on hand. Not. One. Single. Person. My, how times have changed. Anyway, where are Clint Eastwood and Bruce Willis when you need them most?

 

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6) At the time of The Birds’ 1968 TV release, it became the most watched film on television, surpassing Bridge on the River Kwai, and holding on to the top spot until 1972’s Love Story.  As I said before: My, how times change.

7) I remember having bad dreams after watching The Birds on TV. But in all fairness, those nightmares were nowhere near as terrifying as the ones I had after watching the Twilight Zone episode called “The Incredible Shrinking Man.” Another story for another day? Perhaps.

8) Hedren was injured, cut by broken glass, during the famous scene where birds attack her in a phone booth. She also repeatedly was subjected to sexual harassment by Hitchcock during filming. Sadly, that was apparently par for the course in those benighted times. As payback for spurning his advances, Hitchcock substituted real birds for mechanical ones in the penultimate bird attack in the bedroom scene without letting Hedren know in advance. Alas: Maybe times haven’t changed that much after all.

9) Though most of the birds in the film were real, the special effects budget for mechanical birds was around $200,000 – an astronomical sum at the time. Still, the Academy Award for special effects that year went instead to the movie version of Cleopatra. The Birds won… exactly nothing.  Hmmm, where are Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor when you need them most, eh?

 

Say, didja hear the dirt about Hitchcock and Hedren? Yep, I worked on that. Great caterers.

Puff Piece

In case you were wondering, a “puff piece” is a news article that’s full of mostly hot air, in praise of something that’s mostly just plain ordinary. There. Glad we got that cleared up.

 

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There was a nice little puff piece on the hometown Nuggets in today’s NYT. Why waste all that column space on the NBA’s Western Conference #1 seed before they’ve even played a single playoff game? Because despite having a 52-29 record along with the league MVP for the past two years running, nobody gives them much of a chance to get to the Finals this year, let alone to win it all. I mean, c’mon: Can a team whose superstar is nicknamed “Joker” possibly be taken seriously?

There are definitely at least two better teams in the East (Boston and Milwaukee), and I’ve heard it said that there are at least 7 teams in the West – including the lowly Lakers – who might make it to the Finals, so it’s a long shot no matter what. But hey, last night I watched as the Sacramento Kings, with only the second-best player in the Sabonis family, beat their hated NorCal rivals, the Golden State Warriors, with Steph, Klay, and Draymond, in front of a crazed crowd at the Golden One Center. So, call me crazy, but I’m of the considered opinion that absolutely anything’s possible this year. And you can say you heard it here first.

If you, like me, are pulling for the pride of Sambor, Serbia to finally lead this Denver team to the Promised Land, then stay tuned. And if you, like me, aren’t fully sold on that actually happening, then stay tuned anyway. Because no matter what, this scrappy little Nuggets team is fun to watch. And the fact is, they might just surprise everybody. Hey, a guy can dream, can’t he? Game one of their first round series against the Timberwolves is tonight. Be there or be square.

 

NYT Subscribers: Here.

Everybody else: If you leave me a comment, I’ll gift you the article for free.

 

Scrappy Little Nugs - A Puff Piece.
Nikola Jokic, center, leads a scrappy little Nuggets team with championship aspirations.

 

 

Woe be to Denver, where the Nuggets’ playoff failures – 37 chances without a championship so far – haunt the city like the ghost of a bearded cartoon miner.

 

Something to Consider

I know, I know – they’re not due until the 18th this year. And I also know I may be in the minority in thinking this way, but…. What if Tax Day is just a plot by the coffee roasters to draw us in to their orbit? Something to consider at least.

 

Something to consider - Le French.
Le French – The coffee is so-so, but the pastries are to die for. Literally. I can actually feel my coronary arteries closing as we speak

 

Something to Consider - DataReviews image

 

There you have it: Murder is wrong.

And so is tax evasion. So, better get to it.

But first… well, you know.

 

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Something else to consider: Why do we wait?

Well, who wants to be doing their taxes in February?

Not me!

 

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Prior year tax whimsy is here. More cat memes are here.

H&R Block? You’re on your own there, Bubba.