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Once a House

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Sad. It was once a house, filled with love? It was a shelter from the storm. It was a home. No longer, homes need care. This one was left abandoned long ago. In a little bit, there will be more disrepair. At this point it’s really a matter of who knocks it down. But, then where do you take the trash?

Still Around

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It’s an outhouse! Seen one? They still have them. The modern ones are Porta-potty or Mr John or something funny. There’s nothing funny here. When you gotta go, you gotta go. I was amused to see them labeled “men” and “women” too. Still around, and this one will be here when you come back.

Crossroad – nowhere

Helvetia, WV, the Hutte (huh-ta). Try to pronounce it? It’s at a crossroads and is an old restaurant – ‘been there forever. Family run. Quaint. Colorful. Fun. The food is straightforward. Yup, they had a switchboard – old. It was a fun spot. It was a long way from home. We won’t be back – maybe?

Construction

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Fascinating! They are building bridges all over these days. This is the new Goethals bridge connecting Staten Island with New Jersey. The old bridge was really narrow. I mean really! It was barely wide enough for a car. So you can imagine passing an 18 wheel tractor trailer truck on the bridge. That is not for the faint hearted. I’m not; so I passed lots of trucks in my day. The style is now about towers that lean out. I never knew bridge building could be so dated and architecturally interesting.

Buddy, can you spare a dime?

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Seen one lately? Know what it is? Amazing! Payphones are a relic. It cost a dime to make a call when I grew up. It was later a quarter – that would be 25 cents. David objected strenuously. He had to use them when he was in high school. Nope, he did not have a cellphone until his senior year. Imagine that. This forlorn thing was sitting on a wall at a closed abandoned country store. Progress?

Badness…mucho

img_5354Pulled the bathroom curtain down

Ate the rose

Unrolled the toilet paper and made confetti

Flipped the pan – ate the pear tart

Lifted the roll top door – chewed the bag – ate the cat treats

Opened the bi-fold doors and ate cat food – food coma

Opened the laundry room door – jail break

Tormented Elle

Climbed on the table when we eat

Climbed on the table and escaped with grilled cheese sandwich

The list goes on and bad behavior will continue. More to follow… With a cute face like this, can you really be mad?

Where were you when Kennedy was shot

When John F Kennedy was elected, he was JFK. Later it was LBJ. No one else is really known by their initials. I was in a salvage shop and on the counter, was a stack of my hometown newspapers. Yellowed dog eared, there sat a stack of three on top. Stunned, I looked at each. The third one down carried the fateful headline that rocked my childhood. Yup! The woman at the counter was a kid. For her it was 9/11. We all have our moment. I had just gotten done with track practice. The ‘chief executive’ was dead. Denial. They didn’t say ‘President.” Maybe it was not so. It was one of the few times I ever saw my mother cry, as she watched the funeral on our Philco black and white TV. Years later, from a fellow neurosurgeon, I heard the tale of that day in Parkland Hospital ER. JFK was brought in by ambulance. It did not take the neurosurgeon more than a moment to glance over and pronounce him a “goner.” He related that he was next looking at a .45 pistol as the Secret Service told him divert his attention back and to attend the case “now.” It was only then he realized who the gunshot victim was. Gunshot injuries to the head never cease to make the ER staff breathlessly call you. But the secret is that the bullet settled the argument on the street. You arrive in the ER dead or alive. The role of neurosurgery is limited.

I will quickly recall a phone call I received at 3AM when I was chief resident at Bellevue. “We’re getting a gunshot to the head from Columbia.” my junior resident related. At 3AM it’s a rule. Make sure I am speaking in sentences before you give me information. Columbia? The South American country.

No! Columbia University – Neurological Institute of New York, the pre-eminent “Ivory Tower” uptown. Why? “…because they are not taking gunshots tonight.”

It turned out that my counterpart chief resident at Columbia was too lazy to get his ass out of bed in the middle of the night so he turned the case down and sloughed it off downtown.

Happy ending! The bullet was lodged under the scalp and had never penetrated the skull. My junior resident removed the bullet at the bedside in the ER slot and in an act of cheekiness sent the bullet fragment with our complements to Columbia. Our respective departmental chairmen had some choice words to share in the morning. Life goes on in the big city….

That reminds me of when the orthopedic surgery resident put a patient in traction by driving a Steinman pin through and through the skull….

Traffic Light

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You carry a camera around; you get these shots. I don’t know whether you want one, but I got this. I just looked out and saw the juxtaposition. Neat! Stop at McD? Your call.

Bird on a wire

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It was the title of an old Mel Gibson and Goldie Hawn movie. Better not to see it. I can’t bear to watch it again. Funny, it doesn’t show up much on cable TV either. Nice shot taken while I waited at the traffic light. It works for me. Symbolism, there’s got to be a deeper meaning somewhere here?

Baby

Oakland, Maryland. Junior was tucked in a corner and had been marked down three times. “Lightbulb!” Look up the brand to find it’s provenance and worth. Ah! The price is less than you can get on eBay. It’s not pretty. It runs. The key!? No key! I need to get one. Surprisingly, most clocks and keys are separated from one another. It’s not a universal key. But one can be had on Amazon. Is there anything they don’t stock? Yes, parts for my Kieninger movement clock! Yes, the grandfather now has a grand baby. It’s a New England Clock Company steeple clock… just like the picture on the internet. ….needs work…right, twice a day.