Guy Gabaldon, diminutive World War II hero, dies at 80
By MATT SEDENSKY Associated Press Writer
MIAMI (AP) -- Guy Gabaldon, who as an 18-year-old Marine private single-handedly persuaded more than 1,000 Japanese soldiers to surrender in the World War II battle for Saipan, has died, his son said. He was 80.
Gabaldon died Thursday at his home in Old Town, of a heart attack, his son, Tech. Sgt. Jeffrey Hunter Gabaldon, said Monday.
Using an elementary knowledge of Japanese, bribes of cigarettes and candy and trickery with tales of encampments surrounded by American troops, Gabaldon was able to persuade soldiers to abandon their posts and surrender. The scheme was so brazen - and so amazingly successful - it won the young soldier the Navy Cross for extraordinary heroism, and fame when his story was told on television's "This Is Your Life" and the 1960 movie "Hell to Eternity."
"My plan, as impossible as it seemed, was to get near a Japanese emplacement, bunker, or cave, and tell them that I had a bunch of Marines with me and we were ready to kill them if they did not surrender," he wrote in "Saipan: Suicide Island," his 1990 memoir. "I promised that they would be treated with dignity, and that we would make sure that they were taken back to Japan after the war."
Gabaldon's small stature (he was less than 5 feet 4 inches tall and about 130 pounds) and the piecemeal Japanese he picked up from a childhood friend helped him earn the trust of the enemy, who believed his story of hundreds of looming troops. In a single day in July 1944, Gabaldon was said to have gotten about 800 Japanese soldiers to follow him back to the American camp.
His exploits earned him the nickname "the Pied Piper of Saipan."
The private acknowledged his plan was foolish and, had it not been pulled off, could have resulted in a court-martial. His family suspected his initial disobedience - though they say officers later approved - might have kept him from receiving the Medal of Honor.
"My actions prove that God takes care of idiots," he wrote.
Gabaldon also said capturing the Japanese amounted to more than just a badge of honor for him.
"When I began taking prisoners it became an addiction. I found that I couldn't stop. I was hooked," he wrote. "It became a way of life."
Born March 22, 1926, in Los Angeles, Gabaldon signed up for the service on his 17th birthday and arrived on Saipan on D-Day. His military career was cut short after two-and-a-half years after he was wounded by machine gun fire. He spent the years that followed running a variety of businesses, including a furniture store, a fishing operation and an import-export firm, and the unsuccessful pursuit of a California congressional seat in 1964.
Services for Gabaldon were scheduled Tuesday in Cross City, where a Marine color guard was to fire a 21-gun salute and present his wife, Ohana Suzuki, with a flag. His remains are to be scattered on Mount Tapochau on Saipan and in the U.S.
Besides Jeffrey Hunter Gabaldon, of San Diego, he had 10 other children, eight of whom are still living: Guy Jr., and Manya, both of Orlando; Russell, of Lake Havasu, Ariz.; Antonio and Yoshio, both of Saipan; Raymond, of Las Vegas; Hanako Cruz, of Modesto, Calif.; and Aiko, of Old Town. He is also survived by 17 grandchildren and one great-grandchild. His first marriage, to the late June Tikunoff, ended in divorce.
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Monday, September 04, 2006
Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin dead
This is one of those headlines that first makes me think, oh, surely a hoax! - but it seems it's true.
This really makes me sad. Sure, he could be over the top silly sometimes. But as a person who loves critters, and wishes more people could appreciate rather than fear them, I was so happy when this guy came on the *wildlife TV* scene.
I think he did more to further respect for animals than anyone else in my generation. And with his love of life, and of his wife, and of those two young kids that he seemed to want so bad for so long, I wish he could have lived for another 50 years. Just to enjoy it all.
I am so, so sorry to hear he's gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin dead
Article from: news.com.au
By staff writers
September 04, 2006 02:14pm
THE Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin, is dead.
He was killed in a freak accident in Cairns, police sources said today.
It is understood he was killed by a stingray barb that went through his chest.
He was swimming off the Low Isles at Port Douglas filming an underwater documentary when the tragedy occured.
Ambulance officers confirmed they attended a reef fatality this morning at Batt Reef off Port Douglas.
Irwin's body is being flown to Cairns.
It is believed his American-born wife Terri is trekking on Cradle Mountain in Tasmania and is yet to be told of her husband's death.
Irwin - known worldwide as the Crocodile Hunter - is famous for his enthusiasm for wildlife and his catchcry "Crikey!".
The father of two's Crocodile Hunter program was first broadcast in 1992 and has been shown around the world on cable network Discovery.
He has also starred in movies and has developed the Australia Zoo wildlife park, north of Brisbane, which was started by his parents Bob and Lyn Irwin.
Tributes have already started pouring in for the larger-than-life character.
Foreign Minister Alexander Downer, who used a photograph of his family at Australia Zoo for his official Christmas card last year, hailed Mr Irwin for his work in promoting Australia.
Irwin was heavily involved in last year's "G'Day LA" campaign.
"The minister knew him, was fond of him and was very, very appreciative of all the work he'd done to promote Australia overseas," a spokesman said.
A Tourism Queensland spokeswoman said the death was shocking and paid tribute to Irwin's "enormous contribution" to his adopted state.
Louise Yates said it was impossible to quantify how much Mr Irwin had meant to the Queensland tourism industry.
"I don't think we could even estimate how much he brought us through his personality and his profile and his enthusiasm about Queensland," she said.
"It would be difficult to estimate how much he was worth. And it would be difficult to underestimate."
She said Irwin had been a larger-than-life ambassador.
"It's not just what he brought but what he took with him when he travelled, his passion."
Australia Zoo, on southeast Queensland's Sunshine Coast, employs more than 500 people and attracts thousands of visitors every day.
But Ms Yates said it would be "unfair and unjust" to put a dollar value on Irwin's worth to the state, because of how much he had given.
With The Courier Mail and AAP
http://www.news.com.au/story/0,23599,20349888-2,00.html
This really makes me sad. Sure, he could be over the top silly sometimes. But as a person who loves critters, and wishes more people could appreciate rather than fear them, I was so happy when this guy came on the *wildlife TV* scene.
I think he did more to further respect for animals than anyone else in my generation. And with his love of life, and of his wife, and of those two young kids that he seemed to want so bad for so long, I wish he could have lived for another 50 years. Just to enjoy it all.
I am so, so sorry to hear he's gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin dead
Article from: news.com.au
By staff writers
September 04, 2006 02:14pm
THE Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin, is dead.
He was killed in a freak accident in Cairns, police sources said today.
It is understood he was killed by a stingray barb that went through his chest.
He was swimming off the Low Isles at Port Douglas filming an underwater documentary when the tragedy occured.
Ambulance officers confirmed they attended a reef fatality this morning at Batt Reef off Port Douglas.
Irwin's body is being flown to Cairns.
It is believed his American-born wife Terri is trekking on Cradle Mountain in Tasmania and is yet to be told of her husband's death.
Irwin - known worldwide as the Crocodile Hunter - is famous for his enthusiasm for wildlife and his catchcry "Crikey!".
The father of two's Crocodile Hunter program was first broadcast in 1992 and has been shown around the world on cable network Discovery.
He has also starred in movies and has developed the Australia Zoo wildlife park, north of Brisbane, which was started by his parents Bob and Lyn Irwin.
Tributes have already started pouring in for the larger-than-life character.
Foreign Minister Alexander Downer, who used a photograph of his family at Australia Zoo for his official Christmas card last year, hailed Mr Irwin for his work in promoting Australia.
Irwin was heavily involved in last year's "G'Day LA" campaign.
"The minister knew him, was fond of him and was very, very appreciative of all the work he'd done to promote Australia overseas," a spokesman said.
A Tourism Queensland spokeswoman said the death was shocking and paid tribute to Irwin's "enormous contribution" to his adopted state.
Louise Yates said it was impossible to quantify how much Mr Irwin had meant to the Queensland tourism industry.
"I don't think we could even estimate how much he brought us through his personality and his profile and his enthusiasm about Queensland," she said.
"It would be difficult to estimate how much he was worth. And it would be difficult to underestimate."
She said Irwin had been a larger-than-life ambassador.
"It's not just what he brought but what he took with him when he travelled, his passion."
Australia Zoo, on southeast Queensland's Sunshine Coast, employs more than 500 people and attracts thousands of visitors every day.
But Ms Yates said it would be "unfair and unjust" to put a dollar value on Irwin's worth to the state, because of how much he had given.
With The Courier Mail and AAP
http://www.news.com.au/story/0,23599,20349888-2,00.html
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
The Only Good Hurricane is a Dud Hurricane
Well, for some, perhaps.
After all the work to get ready for it, I'd kind of prefer some thrashing about, at least.
But my little bricklaying project is secured. Whatever *rain event* transpires won't hurt it.
And I'm so exhausted from making that happen, all I can do now is go to bed.
I'll catch y'all up tomorrow. For now - G'night. Again.
After all the work to get ready for it, I'd kind of prefer some thrashing about, at least.
But my little bricklaying project is secured. Whatever *rain event* transpires won't hurt it.
And I'm so exhausted from making that happen, all I can do now is go to bed.
I'll catch y'all up tomorrow. For now - G'night. Again.
It's 1:50 AM. Do you know where your hurricane supplies are?
Yes I do! All squared away.
I went to Sam's this morning for latex gloves and rubbing alcohol. Without them I couldn't continue the bricklaying.
A little later, I saw Ernesto's change of direction and knew I'd feel safer if I had a greater supply of meds. This is tricky on a plan that only allows you to fill 30 days' at a time. [*grrrrrr!!!!!*]
So I: called the doc about some meds details; called the bank and got them to early-release the $379 hold on a check I'd deposited that's my only source of funds just now; left for the second time around 6:15, went here and there and everywhere, and finally got home around 11:30 PM.
Only to find that in my absence from the local weather news, ol' Ernie pretty much fizzled out. Relatively, I mean.
Well, GOOD. This means I don't have to fill 4 nasty gas cans tomorrow, yay! In fact, there isn't anything more I *have* to do at all.
So I think I'll finish the front patio, and when it starts getting rainy, sit back here and show you some of my prep-shopping pix. Oh, they are something else!
AFTER I sleep some.
G'night.
I went to Sam's this morning for latex gloves and rubbing alcohol. Without them I couldn't continue the bricklaying.
A little later, I saw Ernesto's change of direction and knew I'd feel safer if I had a greater supply of meds. This is tricky on a plan that only allows you to fill 30 days' at a time. [*grrrrrr!!!!!*]
So I: called the doc about some meds details; called the bank and got them to early-release the $379 hold on a check I'd deposited that's my only source of funds just now; left for the second time around 6:15, went here and there and everywhere, and finally got home around 11:30 PM.
Only to find that in my absence from the local weather news, ol' Ernie pretty much fizzled out. Relatively, I mean.
Well, GOOD. This means I don't have to fill 4 nasty gas cans tomorrow, yay! In fact, there isn't anything more I *have* to do at all.
So I think I'll finish the front patio, and when it starts getting rainy, sit back here and show you some of my prep-shopping pix. Oh, they are something else!
AFTER I sleep some.
G'night.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Hurricane Preps
WELL! Here we go again.
The cone has shifted, and it's now putting the eye right over my house.
Third eye in 1 year. Katrina anniversary time, no less.
Such fun!
Those of you who haven't already figured out I'm nuts, will now. See, I love hurricanes.
I don't like death and destruction. It's the power and beauty and awesomeness of this force of nature that grabs me.
This looks to be a pretty *nice* one, as hurricanes go. The island mountains will chew it up to some extent, and those poor beleagured people in Haiti and Cuba will take a beating for us. I don't ever wish hurricanes to move away from me and into someone else's patch. Not nice. I'm sorry for them. Their lives are hard enough as it is. Moving onto open waters, spinning off to oblivion, that's the only valid course change I'll ever advocate.
It's already disorganized a bit, and will become more so. Then it's pretty likely to beef up again, feeding off the warm waters once it leaves the islands.
After that...we'll see.
I'm always pretty well prepped. I'll try to get some *extras* done tonight and tomorrow am. But I feel pretty secure.
For now - I have some bricklaying to do.
Ta!
The cone has shifted, and it's now putting the eye right over my house.
Third eye in 1 year. Katrina anniversary time, no less.
Such fun!
Those of you who haven't already figured out I'm nuts, will now. See, I love hurricanes.
I don't like death and destruction. It's the power and beauty and awesomeness of this force of nature that grabs me.
This looks to be a pretty *nice* one, as hurricanes go. The island mountains will chew it up to some extent, and those poor beleagured people in Haiti and Cuba will take a beating for us. I don't ever wish hurricanes to move away from me and into someone else's patch. Not nice. I'm sorry for them. Their lives are hard enough as it is. Moving onto open waters, spinning off to oblivion, that's the only valid course change I'll ever advocate.
It's already disorganized a bit, and will become more so. Then it's pretty likely to beef up again, feeding off the warm waters once it leaves the islands.
After that...we'll see.
I'm always pretty well prepped. I'll try to get some *extras* done tonight and tomorrow am. But I feel pretty secure.
For now - I have some bricklaying to do.
Ta!
Saturday, August 26, 2006
A Nice Tie in the Desert
A fleeing Taliban, desperate for water, was plodding through the Afghanistan desert when he saw something far off in the distance.
Hoping to find water, he walked toward the object, only to find a little old Jewish man at a small stand selling neckties.
The Taliban asked, "Do you have water?"
The Jewish man replied, "I have no water. Would you like to buy a tie? They are only $5."
"The Arab shouted, "Idiot Jew! Israel should not exist! I do not need an overpriced tie. I need water! I should kill you, but I must find water first."
"OK," said the old Jew, "it does not matter that you do not want to buy a tie and that you hate me. I will show you that I am bigger than that. If you continue over that hill to the east for about two miles, you will find a lovely restaurant. It has all the water you need. Shalom."
Muttering, the Arab staggered away over the hill. Several hours later he staggered back.
"Your brother won't let me in without a tie."
Hoping to find water, he walked toward the object, only to find a little old Jewish man at a small stand selling neckties.
The Taliban asked, "Do you have water?"
The Jewish man replied, "I have no water. Would you like to buy a tie? They are only $5."
"The Arab shouted, "Idiot Jew! Israel should not exist! I do not need an overpriced tie. I need water! I should kill you, but I must find water first."
"OK," said the old Jew, "it does not matter that you do not want to buy a tie and that you hate me. I will show you that I am bigger than that. If you continue over that hill to the east for about two miles, you will find a lovely restaurant. It has all the water you need. Shalom."
Muttering, the Arab staggered away over the hill. Several hours later he staggered back.
"Your brother won't let me in without a tie."
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Senior Driver
By some weird twist of fate, I ended up living around the best neighbors in the world. Me, who never thought I'd find a place I could truly call, Home.
One of those neighbors is an extremely funny, irreverent, intelligent, sweet, genuinely kind person. I call her BB. She's a Florida senior herself. One of the Good Ones, folks. You have no idea what you're missing not knowing her. Oh, the stories she has to tell!
She doesn't drive a car any more. A golf cart instead. Sometimes when I go visit, she takes me back home in it. This is Important! when I can't make the 75 yards or so on my own. She lives sort of kitty-corner to me.
BB's an internet surfer and puzzle freak. She catches herself up at 3am still playing. And she's got a talent for those funny emails and photos and such that people like to send around. Miss Popularity there gets 30 or 50 emails a day, too. Handles her correspondence like a pro. Not bad for an 81-year-old. (Or for a 48-year-old either.)
I asked her to see if she could source these emails for me so I could credit the originator and post them. We can't always get that info. That's what happened on this one. But it made me laugh so I'm posting it anyway. Here: *Thank You, Author, Whoever You Are!*
I mean, really. It is SO Florida.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The other day I went up to a local Christian bookstore and saw a "Honk if you love Jesus" bumper sticker.
I was feeling particularly sassy that day, because I had just come from a thrilling choir practice followed by a powerful prayer meeting, so I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper.
I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is, and I didn't notice that the light had changed. It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus; because if he hadn't honked, I'd never have noticed.
I found that LOTS of people love Jesus. Why, while I was sitting there, the nice man behind started honking like crazy, and he leaned out of his window and screamed, "for the love of God, GO! GO!" What an exuberant cheerleader he was for the Lord. Everyone started honking! I just leaned out of my window and started waving and smiling at all these loving people.
I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love. There must have been a man from Florida back there, because I heard him yelling something about a sunny beach.
I saw another man waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. When I asked my teenage grandson in the back seat what that meant, he said that it was a Hawaiian good luck sign or something.
Well, I've never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign back.
My grandson burst out laughing; why, even he was enjoying this religious experience.
A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me.
I bet they wanted to pray or ask what church I attended, but this is when I noticed the light had changed.
So I waved to all my sisters and brothers, smiled at them all, and drove on through the intersection.
I noticed I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again, and I felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared, so I slowed the car down, leaned out of the window, and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away.
Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!
One of those neighbors is an extremely funny, irreverent, intelligent, sweet, genuinely kind person. I call her BB. She's a Florida senior herself. One of the Good Ones, folks. You have no idea what you're missing not knowing her. Oh, the stories she has to tell!
She doesn't drive a car any more. A golf cart instead. Sometimes when I go visit, she takes me back home in it. This is Important! when I can't make the 75 yards or so on my own. She lives sort of kitty-corner to me.
BB's an internet surfer and puzzle freak. She catches herself up at 3am still playing. And she's got a talent for those funny emails and photos and such that people like to send around. Miss Popularity there gets 30 or 50 emails a day, too. Handles her correspondence like a pro. Not bad for an 81-year-old. (Or for a 48-year-old either.)
I asked her to see if she could source these emails for me so I could credit the originator and post them. We can't always get that info. That's what happened on this one. But it made me laugh so I'm posting it anyway. Here: *Thank You, Author, Whoever You Are!*
I mean, really. It is SO Florida.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The other day I went up to a local Christian bookstore and saw a "Honk if you love Jesus" bumper sticker.
I was feeling particularly sassy that day, because I had just come from a thrilling choir practice followed by a powerful prayer meeting, so I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper.
I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is, and I didn't notice that the light had changed. It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus; because if he hadn't honked, I'd never have noticed.
I found that LOTS of people love Jesus. Why, while I was sitting there, the nice man behind started honking like crazy, and he leaned out of his window and screamed, "for the love of God, GO! GO!" What an exuberant cheerleader he was for the Lord. Everyone started honking! I just leaned out of my window and started waving and smiling at all these loving people.
I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love. There must have been a man from Florida back there, because I heard him yelling something about a sunny beach.
I saw another man waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. When I asked my teenage grandson in the back seat what that meant, he said that it was a Hawaiian good luck sign or something.
Well, I've never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sign back.
My grandson burst out laughing; why, even he was enjoying this religious experience.
A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me.
I bet they wanted to pray or ask what church I attended, but this is when I noticed the light had changed.
So I waved to all my sisters and brothers, smiled at them all, and drove on through the intersection.
I noticed I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again, and I felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared, so I slowed the car down, leaned out of the window, and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away.
Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!
Friday, August 18, 2006
Going to the Gyno - Lady Lady Docs Only
I can't STAND to go to a male gyno. No way. Been there done that. Got told so much BS I couldn't take it any more.
Such as:
-It's not possible for a Pap smear to hurt because there aren't any nerve endings in that part of the cervix.
-Menstrual cramps are mostly psychological.
-If you're married and you kept your maiden name, in Illinois, we won't accept a check from you. The law says only the husband is legally liable so we refuse checks if you keep your maiden name. You must pay cash or bring your husband with a check.
-You can't feel ovulation. That's an old wives tale.
And so on.
Of course, this was years back. But it's all I needed to know. With two emergency exceptions, I never went near a male gyno again. It just made sense to me that someone with the same body as mine wouldn't be telling me a Pap smear can't hurt. I wanted a doc who didn't like Pap smears herself.
Here's what the lady lady docs have done for me:
-Warm up the speculum.
-Put little socks on the stirrups so they aren't ice cold on your feet.
-Tell jokes.
-Ask me if I want to get the icky part - the Pap smear - over with first.
-Don't scorn me when I tell them what lady bits hurt and how. No. They LISTEN. Check stuff. Explain it to me.
And so on.
See, it all started when I was 15 and went on the pill. I needed it not for birth control but for medical benefits. Teen acne. And for the terrible cramps I've had since the very beginning. Killer, almost passing out on the girl's room floor at school, bleeding hugely for 7 days, that sort of thing.
Now, kmom always raised us up to say that using birth control was far better than having an unwanted pregnancy. And that she knew perfectly well that teens can get pregnant. Oftentimes, in the heat of the moment - so it's best to be prepared. Quite sensible, and to this day I agree with her 100%.
So what did she do when we left that office with my birth control pill rx to kill my cramps?
She cried and cried.
It was one of the few irrational but sweet mothery things I've ever known her to do.
That gyno was her gyno. The guy who started me on the BS I wrote about above. My cramps were all in my mind, PAP smears can't hurt, you can't feel ovulation, and a few years later, refusing to take my check. They did that part in a very nasty way, in front of all the other people in the waiting room - acting outraged that I'd wanted to pay with a check.
This was the first time they'd ever even charged me, since kdad is a doc, and doc's families used to treat each other for free. So I didn't even know they wanted a payment until I was walking out the door. They really seemed to get a charge out of humiliating me. I had a distinct impression that keeping my maiden name upon marriage had a lot to do with it. Younger women out there may not know how very nasty people could get about that, back then. Vicious. Vindictive.
That doc is still in business, all these years later. And now, he's come to see that his patients are deserting him left and right because they want to go to a female gyno.
Gee.
I wonder why.
So he tries to find a female gyno to join his practice. And he's furious. FURIOUS.
Why?
Because they want so much pay.
See, they're in such high demand, he has to pay the going rate or they won't consider working for him. And that rate is a nice big income.
He feels, somehow, this is unfair.
And me, I feel so extremely pleased.
It really strikes me as hilarious.
After kmom told me about his lady gyno troubles, I told her this:
That doctor is the very first gyno I ever had. He was so ignorant of true things about women's bodies, and so belittling about it, and so nasty about method of payment, that HE is the reason I SWORE I'd never see another male gyno again. Not if I could help it. No way.
So now he's reaping exactly what he, personally, sowed. The punishment fits the crime with a hand-in-glove perfection we rarely see.
And I sure would love it if you could explain that to him.
She politely declined. He's still her doc. I can see that.
But hey, I'm still laughing.
Paybacks are hell, guy.
Such as:
-It's not possible for a Pap smear to hurt because there aren't any nerve endings in that part of the cervix.
-Menstrual cramps are mostly psychological.
-If you're married and you kept your maiden name, in Illinois, we won't accept a check from you. The law says only the husband is legally liable so we refuse checks if you keep your maiden name. You must pay cash or bring your husband with a check.
-You can't feel ovulation. That's an old wives tale.
And so on.
Of course, this was years back. But it's all I needed to know. With two emergency exceptions, I never went near a male gyno again. It just made sense to me that someone with the same body as mine wouldn't be telling me a Pap smear can't hurt. I wanted a doc who didn't like Pap smears herself.
Here's what the lady lady docs have done for me:
-Warm up the speculum.
-Put little socks on the stirrups so they aren't ice cold on your feet.
-Tell jokes.
-Ask me if I want to get the icky part - the Pap smear - over with first.
-Don't scorn me when I tell them what lady bits hurt and how. No. They LISTEN. Check stuff. Explain it to me.
And so on.
See, it all started when I was 15 and went on the pill. I needed it not for birth control but for medical benefits. Teen acne. And for the terrible cramps I've had since the very beginning. Killer, almost passing out on the girl's room floor at school, bleeding hugely for 7 days, that sort of thing.
Now, kmom always raised us up to say that using birth control was far better than having an unwanted pregnancy. And that she knew perfectly well that teens can get pregnant. Oftentimes, in the heat of the moment - so it's best to be prepared. Quite sensible, and to this day I agree with her 100%.
So what did she do when we left that office with my birth control pill rx to kill my cramps?
She cried and cried.
It was one of the few irrational but sweet mothery things I've ever known her to do.
That gyno was her gyno. The guy who started me on the BS I wrote about above. My cramps were all in my mind, PAP smears can't hurt, you can't feel ovulation, and a few years later, refusing to take my check. They did that part in a very nasty way, in front of all the other people in the waiting room - acting outraged that I'd wanted to pay with a check.
This was the first time they'd ever even charged me, since kdad is a doc, and doc's families used to treat each other for free. So I didn't even know they wanted a payment until I was walking out the door. They really seemed to get a charge out of humiliating me. I had a distinct impression that keeping my maiden name upon marriage had a lot to do with it. Younger women out there may not know how very nasty people could get about that, back then. Vicious. Vindictive.
That doc is still in business, all these years later. And now, he's come to see that his patients are deserting him left and right because they want to go to a female gyno.
Gee.
I wonder why.
So he tries to find a female gyno to join his practice. And he's furious. FURIOUS.
Why?
Because they want so much pay.
See, they're in such high demand, he has to pay the going rate or they won't consider working for him. And that rate is a nice big income.
He feels, somehow, this is unfair.
And me, I feel so extremely pleased.
It really strikes me as hilarious.
After kmom told me about his lady gyno troubles, I told her this:
That doctor is the very first gyno I ever had. He was so ignorant of true things about women's bodies, and so belittling about it, and so nasty about method of payment, that HE is the reason I SWORE I'd never see another male gyno again. Not if I could help it. No way.
So now he's reaping exactly what he, personally, sowed. The punishment fits the crime with a hand-in-glove perfection we rarely see.
And I sure would love it if you could explain that to him.
She politely declined. He's still her doc. I can see that.
But hey, I'm still laughing.
Paybacks are hell, guy.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
The Resurrection of Bane
That may be blasphemy, right there. If so, please excuse. I'm using it in a common-language context, okay?
Because a weird and wonderful blogger, Bane, was recently restored to the 'sphere after almost leaving us forever.
Bane's broke. This, despite a number of talents and lots of education. See, he has a child who needs really extreme medical care. Lots of very expensive and ongoing surgeries, for birth defects, I believe; I don't know the particulars. But surely it's a terrible burden emotionally and financially both, and this on a guy who clearly truly loves his children. The time and attention and good firm parenting he lavishes on them is a beautiful thing to read about on his blog.
Add to that, he's disabled himself now with arthritis. He's a stay-at-home dad. I think maybe he's home-schooling his two young kids - if not formally, then by definition, considering the amount of thought and care and direction he puts into their activities.
He's a heavy poster, 3-6 per day, full of raunch and fun and snark and strong opinions and naughtiness and such. Truly superb writing. Gifted. His wide readership loves him, and some hate him too. Or both. Some readers are serious Bane addicts. I disagree with many of his positions on things, and I'm not alone. Still, I've come to enjoy reading him. A unique voice in the 'sphere, Bane is. Me, I don't make that claim idly. Ever.
Well. The House of Bane can't afford many very basic things people need, and that kids need too, like books and stuff. So just imagine their feelings when Bane's computer gave up the ghost.
Despair. Absolute and utter despair.
He needs this outlet like nobody's business, and he was ready to quit. Over - at first - a couple hundred buck's worth of parts.
Then everything ELSE on the machine blew too. Whole new system was in order, there. Given the amount of entertainment and thought-provocation he'd provided his blog readers over the years, I thought he'd earned it. And as it turns out, lots of other people did too.
His blog maintenance buddy and friend, LL of Chromed Curses, took over from her location. She did interim postings, and made a Call for Donations that, incredibly, raised enough money to get him a new system that did justice to his artistry as a writer. She gathered a LOT of input from knowledgeable readers on what would suit Bane's computer needs. She got it specially built and quick-shipped to him, and he's online on his own again.
All this took something like 10 days after the old system first went down. Then, since there were customer service problems with Tiger Direct, the vendor, she got the shipping cost reimbursed. That was 25% of the order. We're probably talking roughly $250 or so, ballpark guess - a HUGE savings. Around the same amount that, initially, was budgeted to fix the old computer was what she recovered from the manufacturer. Given my own background and circumstances, I admire that.
This was a really great thing to watch unfold. So: Welcome back, Bane! Welcome back. I don't like everything you say, but hey. I have some really strong feelings about that free speech thing. Not to mention, about our right and responsibility to think for ourselves. Looks to me like you actually do. Fire away! Ah, to your heart's content.
And Wendy? aka LL? I'll just repeat a comment I left over there at Bane's place:
LL, you're a WONDER. Serious business. An idle remark about an online pissing contest, and you took off like a bird in flight, acrobatic and astute, performing a sort of miracle of restoration.
Of resurrection. For a lot of us, I think Acidman was at the back of our minds throughout. It's been such a healing thing, watching all this unfold.
And now you've answered one of my Friday questions: How much do you charge for your blog maintenance? (just curious!)
Answer: It's free.
Now THAT'S a friend.
Because a weird and wonderful blogger, Bane, was recently restored to the 'sphere after almost leaving us forever.
Bane's broke. This, despite a number of talents and lots of education. See, he has a child who needs really extreme medical care. Lots of very expensive and ongoing surgeries, for birth defects, I believe; I don't know the particulars. But surely it's a terrible burden emotionally and financially both, and this on a guy who clearly truly loves his children. The time and attention and good firm parenting he lavishes on them is a beautiful thing to read about on his blog.
Add to that, he's disabled himself now with arthritis. He's a stay-at-home dad. I think maybe he's home-schooling his two young kids - if not formally, then by definition, considering the amount of thought and care and direction he puts into their activities.
He's a heavy poster, 3-6 per day, full of raunch and fun and snark and strong opinions and naughtiness and such. Truly superb writing. Gifted. His wide readership loves him, and some hate him too. Or both. Some readers are serious Bane addicts. I disagree with many of his positions on things, and I'm not alone. Still, I've come to enjoy reading him. A unique voice in the 'sphere, Bane is. Me, I don't make that claim idly. Ever.
Well. The House of Bane can't afford many very basic things people need, and that kids need too, like books and stuff. So just imagine their feelings when Bane's computer gave up the ghost.
Despair. Absolute and utter despair.
He needs this outlet like nobody's business, and he was ready to quit. Over - at first - a couple hundred buck's worth of parts.
Then everything ELSE on the machine blew too. Whole new system was in order, there. Given the amount of entertainment and thought-provocation he'd provided his blog readers over the years, I thought he'd earned it. And as it turns out, lots of other people did too.
His blog maintenance buddy and friend, LL of Chromed Curses, took over from her location. She did interim postings, and made a Call for Donations that, incredibly, raised enough money to get him a new system that did justice to his artistry as a writer. She gathered a LOT of input from knowledgeable readers on what would suit Bane's computer needs. She got it specially built and quick-shipped to him, and he's online on his own again.
All this took something like 10 days after the old system first went down. Then, since there were customer service problems with Tiger Direct, the vendor, she got the shipping cost reimbursed. That was 25% of the order. We're probably talking roughly $250 or so, ballpark guess - a HUGE savings. Around the same amount that, initially, was budgeted to fix the old computer was what she recovered from the manufacturer. Given my own background and circumstances, I admire that.
This was a really great thing to watch unfold. So: Welcome back, Bane! Welcome back. I don't like everything you say, but hey. I have some really strong feelings about that free speech thing. Not to mention, about our right and responsibility to think for ourselves. Looks to me like you actually do. Fire away! Ah, to your heart's content.
And Wendy? aka LL? I'll just repeat a comment I left over there at Bane's place:
LL, you're a WONDER. Serious business. An idle remark about an online pissing contest, and you took off like a bird in flight, acrobatic and astute, performing a sort of miracle of restoration.
Of resurrection. For a lot of us, I think Acidman was at the back of our minds throughout. It's been such a healing thing, watching all this unfold.
And now you've answered one of my Friday questions: How much do you charge for your blog maintenance? (just curious!)
Answer: It's free.
Now THAT'S a friend.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Bees STING. Well, okay, they bite too. But that ain't the business end. Nope.
Livey has a funny post up about a bee issue.
They keep on - she says - BITING her.
OW! you just hit one of k's Pet Peeves.
STING! STING! not BITE.
The business end matters. It matters a lot because knowing which is which aids in your self-defense once attacked, and in your pre-attack self-protection.
The business end is either the bite or the sting. The bite is from the mouth. The sting is from the abdomen - generally referred to as *The [Critter's] Butt.*
Let's talk Bite vs. Butt.
The business end is *The Butt* on bees. The ones that sting are all female, and the venom's in the stinger. Same with ants and wasps - again, all female - and with scorpions. Stingrays too. All *Butt.* All stinger venom.
Some of them will grab you with their jaws (or a scorpion's claws) in order to get a good purchase. IOW, they hold on tight with their jaws while getting the business end in position to inject poison through the stinger. The stinger works a bit like a little hypodermic.
But that ain't nothing, that jaw grab. A tiny pinch, really. Not a *Bite.* It's the sting that hurts like a sonofabitch, because of the venom. And it can kill you sometimes, almost always from an allergic reaction. Almost no stingers have venom potent enough to kill you outright, otherwise.
Exceptions: Some rays, some scorpions (only one species in the US), and the very rare case of getting trapped somehow, or being dead drunk, and getting literally stung to death by thousands of critters, usually either fire ants or yellow jackets (a small but very nasty type of hornet).
The business end is *The Bite* on things like poisonous snakes, spiders, and lizards like Gila monsters and some iguanas and monitors. Those lizards are now known to be venomous - not poisonous due to massive nasty bacteria as once thought. Oddities like jellyfish, electric eels, bufo marinas (cane toad), etc. aren't *Bite* OR *Butt* - but I'll leave that exotica out for now.
Venom, in spiders, is universal. It's how they eat. However, almost NO spiders have venom that actually affects humans. It's almost always just meant to do things to their insect prey.
In Wisconsin, where Livey is? Poisonous spiders are very, very rare. The only ones you might ever see are northern black widow or brown recluse. Both venoms are nasty and can be lethal. Down here in SoFL, we have southern black widows, northern black widows, brown widows, and red widows.
Brown recluse is not indigenous here, but so many of them are *tourist spiders,* arriving in plant pots shipped from recluse areas, or in people's luggage as they travel here, that we actually get a fair amount of damage from them biting people. This is denied and poo-poo'ed by certain ignorant doctors, who didn't read up enough to know that in many cases the spider was caught, brought to the hospital, and correctly identified as a brown recluse.
I was (most likely but not for absolute sure) privileged to experience this myself last summer. You can't test for brown recluse bite, so the only way to REALLY know is if you catch the spider that bit ya. I didn't. However, the wound made a very characteristic *red, white, and blue sign,* or *bullseye,* in appearance; my symptoms were classic (but systemic, not necrotic); and I was in Tourist Brown Recluse territory during the time they go out hunting for food: in a plant nursery, one that had a large interstate/import business, in the middle of the night. (My bad. I was committing a crime, trespassing into a nursery that was sold to developers, rescuing a few abandoned plants before the bulldozers showed up. And I'd do it all over again. We had a BLAST!, and rescued some great plants that didn't deserve to die. Not to mention, lots of empty pots to put them in. And trays and stakes and labels and orchid hooks and...)
I noticed another blogger almost lost a family member to a recluse bite recently, too, though I'm afraid I can't remember who.
Snakes are rarely lethal either. Here we have Eastern Diamondback rattlers, dusky pygmy rattlers, water moccasins (cottonmouths) and coral snakes. In N. Florida they have copperheads and timber rattlers too. Wisconsin has a few timber rattlers and the small, very beautiful, very rare, massasauga rattler. Neither have any known territory anywhere near Livey's house.
I'll note this too: In the US, bee and wasp stings and lightning strikes, put together, kill far more people every year than snakebites.
Which leads me to that admonition you ALWAYS hear from folks like me: *Leave It Alone.* With almost no exceptions, if you don't bother IT, it won't bother you.
Case in point: We may have had the first coral snake bite fatality in Florida in 40 years - ever since antivenin became available. This was in June, out by Naples, FL. What happened? In the small town of Bonita, a bunch of homeless people live out in the woods by a river, some for many years. One evening, after some drinks, a few guys spied a coral snake. It bit one guy. Another guy went after said snake. It bit him. This pissed said guy off and he started playing *quien es mas macho* with the snake - slashing it with a BROKEN BEER BOTTLE.
Yes. Dumb. Naturally he got bit some more as he slashed away. And being sussed, after he killed the snake, he kept talking to his buddies and then went to sleep - and to die. The first guy who got bit, meanwhile, took the dead snake and went on his bike to the fire/rescue station a mile down the road. He, quite properly, went to the hospital with his dead snake, and survived.
My next point follows. I've seen ever so many rednecks in the 'sphere talking about how they always kill snakes on sight because they are so terrified of them. I mean, uh, because snakes just give them the creeps and that's all there is to it. AND, uh, they are Protecting The Children. Like any good Macho Redneck would!
Well, guys, sorry. I have zero respect for that. Zero. For one thing, no matter how yellow-belly chicken you are, you should not go around killing things on sight. It's just wrong, eight ways from Sunday. Killing snakes, for example, means you're killing beneficial predators that eat rats and mice and lots of other things that can present health dangers to you.
For another, your own actions make you some of the few people who SHOULD be afraid. Why? Because messing with a poisonous snake is a common way people get close enough to the snake to get bit in the first place! That's not the snake's fault any more. It's YOU that got you bit. Own up and take responsibility.
In other words, killing snakes on sight is just out-and-out DUMB. Dumb, I don't respect.
Critters - on the other hand - I do.
Critters are ALWAYS cool.
THERE! Now wasn't that fun?
Livey? ummm...by the way: Sorry about your bee sting. Really. That's just no fun at all.
They keep on - she says - BITING her.
OW! you just hit one of k's Pet Peeves.
STING! STING! not BITE.
The business end matters. It matters a lot because knowing which is which aids in your self-defense once attacked, and in your pre-attack self-protection.
The business end is either the bite or the sting. The bite is from the mouth. The sting is from the abdomen - generally referred to as *The [Critter's] Butt.*
Let's talk Bite vs. Butt.
The business end is *The Butt* on bees. The ones that sting are all female, and the venom's in the stinger. Same with ants and wasps - again, all female - and with scorpions. Stingrays too. All *Butt.* All stinger venom.
Some of them will grab you with their jaws (or a scorpion's claws) in order to get a good purchase. IOW, they hold on tight with their jaws while getting the business end in position to inject poison through the stinger. The stinger works a bit like a little hypodermic.
But that ain't nothing, that jaw grab. A tiny pinch, really. Not a *Bite.* It's the sting that hurts like a sonofabitch, because of the venom. And it can kill you sometimes, almost always from an allergic reaction. Almost no stingers have venom potent enough to kill you outright, otherwise.
Exceptions: Some rays, some scorpions (only one species in the US), and the very rare case of getting trapped somehow, or being dead drunk, and getting literally stung to death by thousands of critters, usually either fire ants or yellow jackets (a small but very nasty type of hornet).
The business end is *The Bite* on things like poisonous snakes, spiders, and lizards like Gila monsters and some iguanas and monitors. Those lizards are now known to be venomous - not poisonous due to massive nasty bacteria as once thought. Oddities like jellyfish, electric eels, bufo marinas (cane toad), etc. aren't *Bite* OR *Butt* - but I'll leave that exotica out for now.
Venom, in spiders, is universal. It's how they eat. However, almost NO spiders have venom that actually affects humans. It's almost always just meant to do things to their insect prey.
In Wisconsin, where Livey is? Poisonous spiders are very, very rare. The only ones you might ever see are northern black widow or brown recluse. Both venoms are nasty and can be lethal. Down here in SoFL, we have southern black widows, northern black widows, brown widows, and red widows.
Brown recluse is not indigenous here, but so many of them are *tourist spiders,* arriving in plant pots shipped from recluse areas, or in people's luggage as they travel here, that we actually get a fair amount of damage from them biting people. This is denied and poo-poo'ed by certain ignorant doctors, who didn't read up enough to know that in many cases the spider was caught, brought to the hospital, and correctly identified as a brown recluse.
I was (most likely but not for absolute sure) privileged to experience this myself last summer. You can't test for brown recluse bite, so the only way to REALLY know is if you catch the spider that bit ya. I didn't. However, the wound made a very characteristic *red, white, and blue sign,* or *bullseye,* in appearance; my symptoms were classic (but systemic, not necrotic); and I was in Tourist Brown Recluse territory during the time they go out hunting for food: in a plant nursery, one that had a large interstate/import business, in the middle of the night. (My bad. I was committing a crime, trespassing into a nursery that was sold to developers, rescuing a few abandoned plants before the bulldozers showed up. And I'd do it all over again. We had a BLAST!, and rescued some great plants that didn't deserve to die. Not to mention, lots of empty pots to put them in. And trays and stakes and labels and orchid hooks and...)
I noticed another blogger almost lost a family member to a recluse bite recently, too, though I'm afraid I can't remember who.
Snakes are rarely lethal either. Here we have Eastern Diamondback rattlers, dusky pygmy rattlers, water moccasins (cottonmouths) and coral snakes. In N. Florida they have copperheads and timber rattlers too. Wisconsin has a few timber rattlers and the small, very beautiful, very rare, massasauga rattler. Neither have any known territory anywhere near Livey's house.
I'll note this too: In the US, bee and wasp stings and lightning strikes, put together, kill far more people every year than snakebites.
Which leads me to that admonition you ALWAYS hear from folks like me: *Leave It Alone.* With almost no exceptions, if you don't bother IT, it won't bother you.
Case in point: We may have had the first coral snake bite fatality in Florida in 40 years - ever since antivenin became available. This was in June, out by Naples, FL. What happened? In the small town of Bonita, a bunch of homeless people live out in the woods by a river, some for many years. One evening, after some drinks, a few guys spied a coral snake. It bit one guy. Another guy went after said snake. It bit him. This pissed said guy off and he started playing *quien es mas macho* with the snake - slashing it with a BROKEN BEER BOTTLE.
Yes. Dumb. Naturally he got bit some more as he slashed away. And being sussed, after he killed the snake, he kept talking to his buddies and then went to sleep - and to die. The first guy who got bit, meanwhile, took the dead snake and went on his bike to the fire/rescue station a mile down the road. He, quite properly, went to the hospital with his dead snake, and survived.
My next point follows. I've seen ever so many rednecks in the 'sphere talking about how they always kill snakes on sight because they are so terrified of them. I mean, uh, because snakes just give them the creeps and that's all there is to it. AND, uh, they are Protecting The Children. Like any good Macho Redneck would!
Well, guys, sorry. I have zero respect for that. Zero. For one thing, no matter how yellow-belly chicken you are, you should not go around killing things on sight. It's just wrong, eight ways from Sunday. Killing snakes, for example, means you're killing beneficial predators that eat rats and mice and lots of other things that can present health dangers to you.
For another, your own actions make you some of the few people who SHOULD be afraid. Why? Because messing with a poisonous snake is a common way people get close enough to the snake to get bit in the first place! That's not the snake's fault any more. It's YOU that got you bit. Own up and take responsibility.
In other words, killing snakes on sight is just out-and-out DUMB. Dumb, I don't respect.
Critters - on the other hand - I do.
Critters are ALWAYS cool.
THERE! Now wasn't that fun?
Livey? ummm...by the way: Sorry about your bee sting. Really. That's just no fun at all.
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