Wednesday, October 16, 2019

Megan

The last time I had any contact other than Facebook with Megan Cianfrance, she was a senior at Green Mountain.  The senior class had somehow convinced me to sponsor them for a trip to the Museum of Science and Nature during Senior Week.  I reluctantly agreed and found myself walking through the museum with a bunch of kids and quoting Catcher in the Rye as we walked by the glass enclosed dioramas filled with polar bears and sheets of blue ice and deer and badgers and pretty little Indian squaws convening over freshly woven blankets.  It was a nice time.

When we were headed toward the bus (it was only a small group of seniors making the trip), Megan came running up to me.  "Mr. S.  Mr. S.  Could I sit next to you on the ride back?  I want you to protect me from ____________(name withheld)."

It seems there was this lost little senior boy who had developed a crush on Megan.  Who could blame him?  He started a little friendly stalking at school, but I guess the stalking had gotten out of hand at the museum.  Megan, being a member of the Cianfrance family, was simply too nice to hurt the kid's feelings.  That's why she figured sitting next to me would be a harmless way to fend the little creep off.

I said sure thing and we rode back up to Green Mountain together.  The stalker ended up about four rows behind where he sat looking longingly at Miss Cianfrance.  Megan and I talked about what she had planned for the next year.  We talked about her brothers, school politics, prom, graduation parties, the usual stuff.  It was a nice time.

I went to her funeral yesterday.  She was 36 and died in her sleep about a week ago, leaving two children, a husband, and scores of devoted family members and friends behind.  The Reflection Pavilion at Crown Hill was standing room only, but I did manage to recognize a few faces of Megan's high school classmates.

Derek came up and gave Kathie and I tearful hugs.  I hadn't seen him since his first film, "Brother Tied," screened in Denver years ago.  He lives in Brooklyn now with his wife and children.  They are both filmmakers.  Derek and I spent a lot of time together in The Ram Page office years ago.

After the funeral proper, I managed to make my way to shake Jason's hand.  Jason was the first Cianfrance to appear in one of my classrooms and he was a terrific kid.  I discovered he is a 25 year veteran teacher along with his wife.  I can attest that a family with two teachers at the helm is a comfortable way to live.  I'm so happy for him.

This was the second funeral I have attended for a former student.  John Bezdek's was the first.  I didn't like the feeling at either one.  It just wasn't right.  Megan's beautiful little boy wept loudly through the entire ceremony.  He is just a year older than Willa.  I don't want to think about the trauma he faces.  Megan's daughter is older than the boy and the spitting image of her mother.  She managed, although I don't know how, to maintain her composure through the whole thing.

The two kids went up and put some keepsakes in the coffin and right before they shoved the coffin into the wall, the kids released a bunch of doves who kept flying in circles above the crowd with the traffic on Wadsworth roaring by.  The juxtaposition was, to say the least, disconcerting.

While the celebrant was saying a bunch of things that my unaided hearing had no chance to discern, I looked at the plaques on the wall.  There were a lot of last names that were familiar.  I was heartened to see that so many of the deceased were long lived.  There was one old guy who managed to last until he was a hundred and ten.  I wonder if they released doves at his funeral.

I leaned over and told Kathie once again that I wanted nothing to do with a formal funeral in front of a wall.  I want her to sneak into my old classroom and spread my ashes in one of the book cabinets, preferably the one that used to hold Brave New World.

On the other hand, I do want the doves.

Monday, October 14, 2019

Fire Alarms and Nuclear Explosions

I want to elaborate a little on the whole hearing aid experience.  My new (actually, my first) hearing aids will be here around the first of November.  My appointment is already set up.

I'm looking forward to them primarily because once I have them I can stop thinking about them all the time.  They aren't all that noticeable.  Jaydee, when she looked at my loaner pair, said they looked like part of my glasses.

I was at The Yard House at Colorado Mills with some friends a couple nights ago.  Every young person on the west side of town must number The Yard House as a destination beer hall.  It was packed to the rafters and there were another two dozen people waiting outside to get in.  I don't understand it.  The food was decidedly mediocre and the din made any attempt at conversation, at least for me, impossible.  Trust me.  I won't be going back.  But I bring the place up because if I had had my hearing aids on that evening, I might have stood an outside chance of knowing what my friends were talking about.  As it was, I just waited till we were on our way home and let Kathie explain what I had missed.

I'll be able to hear the girls in the car, anybody in the car, more easily.  I won't have to turn around while traveling on C-470 so I can read Willa's lips when she says something.  Things will be safer.

The most interesting thing about the hearing aids is that they come in different price ranges so as to accommodate any budget.  Each price range lists what the wearer might hear with the hearing device he or she chooses.  I guess I'm spoiled, or too stupid to worry about money, but it is hard for me to imagine getting hearing devices that don't offer the best sound.

The audiologist showed us a chart of five different devices, the cheapest starting at $800 with increments for the others going all the way up to $4800.

I asked how they were different, if there were any disadvantages to getting the most expensive devices, other than cost.  The chart explained everything in horrifying detail.  Let me see if I can remember.

The cheapest hearing devices would cost me $1600 for a pair and Kaiser forks over $500 per ear.  That leaves me with a bill of only $600 for the EconoAids.  That's not really what they are called, but it fits.  The EconoAids are clearly not for everyone, but if cost is a factor, they are the ones for you.  With them fitted neatly in place and stuck into both of your ears, you will be able to hear fire alarms and nuclear explosions.

For an additional $1200 or so, you will not only be able to hear nuclear explosions, but will also  be able to make out what another individual is saying as long as that individual is sitting facing you with knees touching.

The next increment is even more audiologically impressive.  You will be able to hear all the things the cheaper models insure, but you will also be able to make out words and phrases in a public setting.  Television shows will become instantly understandable.  Of course, closed captioning is also advised as an adjunct.

The devices just keep getting better.

I got the top of the line.  For that I will be able to hear the whole range of sounds that humans and machinery can make.  "Would you like to hear music," the audiologist asked.

"Why not," I answered.  "I remember liking music."

"Well, if you like music, these top of the line devices are for you."

"Will I still be able to hear a nuclear explosion?"

Saturday, October 12, 2019

Sorry. No Jokes.

The images and descriptions are so visceral I don't see how anyone could react to them with anything other than horror, disgust, and tears.

I'm talking about the daily onslaught from the media of images and sound bites from all the trouble spots in the world and from all the trouble spots in Donald Trump's mind.  There is almost nothing else to look at, to think about, and I'm wondering how it is possible that our country is so divided that two people, one liberal and the other conservative, could look at the same phenomena and come away with two completely opposed opinions.

Let's start with something easy.  Do you suppose that Trump supporters looked at everything Obama and the Democratic coalition did with the same horror that I look at everything Trump and his minions do?  For instance, I love Governor Polis.  I love his daily Facebook messages.  I love how quickly he has moved.  When I think about free full day kindergarten I almost want to cry because it has been so long coming.  My education convinces me that full day kindergarten will be a boon, not only to parents who don't have to fork over tuition payments anymore, but to the entire state.  The money we will have to spend will be paid back tenfold.  But does a hard core Republican look at free kindergarten as some kind of harbinger of the end of the world.  Will it just start our state down the slippery slope to financial ruin?  Does that hard core Republican ever take into consideration the welfare of Colorado's children?

I saw a report on TV this morning about our country's new policy of keeping immigrants in Mexico as they wait to see if they can enter our country.  The report cited statistics showing the increased danger many of those immigrants face because of this policy.  And, of course, the TV showed grainy images of the living conditions those immigrants have to face.

I look on that situation with a combination of horror and shame.  I can't believe our country is treating people like that.  Does a Trump supporter (Wait.  Cross that out.  I'm going to stop using the phrase Trump supporter and just start using Republican instead.  If anyone can still call themselves a Republican after the last three years, they are complicit in Trump's systematic destruction of the country.).  Does a Republican look at that same situation at the border with pride and satisfaction?  Do they insist that it is about time we kept people from shithole countries out?  I can't fathom that reaction and I guess Republicans can't fathom mine.

On the same TV station there was a report from Syria.  A Turkish bomb exploded nearby, killing several civilians and injuring others.  One of those injured was a little girl with a bandage around her head and wounds all over her body.  Her mother explained to the reporter what had happened and the little girl tried to put her hands over her ears so she couldn't hear.  She didn't want to relive her nightmare and she started weeping and reaching for her mom.  She kept asking why.

I was overcome.  Is it possible that a Republican could look at that clip and take pride in our abandonment of the Kurds?  Would they be proud of Trump for having the "courage" to pull us out of this endless war in the mideast?  Would they just ignore the human toll Trump's pull out has caused and continues to cause?

There was yet another article about Greta Thunberg talking to a state legislature.  Whenever I think about her, I get happy.  I know what passionate teenagers can accomplish.  I think they are the only people who can lead us out of this morass we find ourselves in.  When a Republican looks at Greta does he just revert to Fox speaking points?  Does he/she see a kid who is mentally ill?  Are Republicans convinced that her crusade is all part of the Deep State's liberal plan to ruin the world?  Did Al Gore put her up to this?

I read an article yesterday in The New Yorker about black women fighting against anti-abortion forces in the South.  I came across some startling facts.  For instance, in Georgia prisons regularly shackle pregnant women during childbirth.  The state legislature actually debated the practice.  When I read that I am yet again horrified.  When a Republican reads that, does he or she believe shackling women (read: black women) during child birth is a good idea?  After all, we don't want them escaping, trailing their placenta behind them.  How is it possible that there could be two opinions about this practice?

In South Carolina in 1995, the state added regulations that required all clinics practicing second trimester abortions meet the same design and construction standards as "ambulatory surgical facilities."  The result:  More than half of the South Carolina women seeking abortions had to leave the state.  I look at those regulations as an obvious attempt to circumvent Roe v. Wade.  Do Republicans really see the added regulations as an honest attempt by the legislature to insure the good health of those seeking abortions?

TRAP (Targeted Regulation of Abortion Providers) laws have been passed by Republican controlled state legislatures to subvert Roe v. Wade.  As a result, in Alabama, there are only three clinics in the entire state, down from twenty in 1992.  Now, I don't much like the idea of abortion.  But I like the idea of taking away choice from women even less.  Do Republicans look at this same situation and praise Donald Trump for reinstalling Christian values to mainstream America?  Please.

One more example.  A woman called up the two black crusading women and told them that she was in her early twenties, with two children, on Medicaid, unemployed, and eight weeks pregnant.  Her abortion would cost 600 bucks and she only had 200.  The abortion was scheduled for the next day and she was contemplating hocking her wedding ring.  They told her to "hold on to that."  They would figure it out before it got to that point.

When a Republican sees this pregnant woman's plight, does he/she see a threat to our country?  Does he/she just casually think that it was her fault?  She shouldn't be so irresponsible as to get pregnant again?  Does he think that it serves her right?

That's why I've been so depressed of late.  I don't want to believe that we are that far apart, all evidence to the contrary.

Sorry there weren't any jokes in this.

 


Thursday, October 3, 2019

My New Ladder Is Ready To Climb

I was turning onto Yosemite when the tears started coming.  Kathie even put her hand on my shoulder and asked me if I wanted her to drive.

I was fine.

I assured her.

The thing is I cry over almost anything lately.  I think/hope it comes with being in my seventies.

How terribly strange.

I had to stop watching reruns of The Andy Griffith Show because they had me crying so much.  Opie does it to me every time.  That's a slight exaggeration, but it makes my point.

We were just coming from my latest hearing appointment.  I've ordered hearing aids.  They'll be here the first part of November.  Kathie and I have from now (October 3) until then to figure out how to pay for them.  I'm almost in favor of forgetting the whole thing.  I have managed to cope with my abysmal hearing for over forty years.  I'm seventy-one.  What's another forty years asking Kathie what everybody is talking about?

Whenever I say stuff like that, Kathie and anyone else within earshot roll their eyes.  I guess they're right.

So, we ordered the things.  There were four or five price ranges, each reflecting the quality of the hearing device in question.  We chose the top.  I figure if I have to have hearing aids, I might as well have the best.

I got to choose the color.  It was a lot like buying a car.  The selections were limited, but if I wanted to get a children's hearing aid, the colors would be a lot brighter.  I went with the grey.  There was a flesh colored choice, but it looked too much like something that fell off a Barbie Doll.

But back to the tears on Yosemite.  This hearing thing has been the first thing in my life (rheumatic fever when I was six doesn't count) that required repeated visits to the doctor, the first sign that I'm getting old.  I know that sounds stupid--I've been getting old for years--but that's how I looked, am looking, at it.

You have to understand that it has been a terrible month, maybe even a little longer.  I had to have a root canal and a subsequent crown.  We had to buy a new television.  We had to buy a new lawn mower.  Then Kathie's crown broke.  And now we have hearing aids to buy.

There is a movement going through Congress to add hearing aid coverage to Medicare, to no longer consider hearing aids as merely cosmetic(!), but Mitch McConnell is working happily to keep it off the floor.

So I guess all that stuff coalesced in that one moment on Yosemite.

By the time I got  home, I was all better and ready to climb up my new ladder to paint my house.

It is what it is in the suburbs.