True Crime-Blogger Murder, Daycare Shooting; Miscellany-Keeping Safe, Real Hospital Charts

 


Boy, 8, shoots girl, 7, at Maryland day care
When the news that there had been a shooting at a Maryland day care center hit the seven thousand Fox News Alerts recently, speculation abounded. At first it was hinted it might be a terrorist action. Then it was suggested it might be another Columbine, albeit in a miniature version. Next it was an accidental shooting, the handsome anchors alleged.

We’ll assume that an 8 year old shooting a 7 year old must be an accident of some sort, right? By the time Fox played out their news alerts a new story came across the radar and the very sad story of the shooting at the Day Care center was all but forgotten.


From Reuters:

Tue Jan 24, 2006 11:20 AM ET

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - An 8-year-old boy accidentally shot a 7-year-old girl in the arm on Tuesday with a handgun he pulled from his backpack at a day-care center, police in suburban Montgomery County, Maryland, said.

The wounded girl was flown to a local hospital with a non-life-threatening injury, police spokesperson Lucille Baur said. There were six children at the For Kids We Care day-care center at the time the shooting and no one else was injured, she said.

The shooting happened just before 7 a.m. as the boy was handling the gun, which he brought to the center in his backpack, Baur said. Officers were investigating how the boy happened to have the weapon.

Later that evening, the crime gossip shows took up the story. Greta, Nancy Grace, even Bill O’Reilly, discussed this sad tale. It was suggested that the shooting was not accidental, that the little boy with the gun was actually trying to rob the girl he shot. Likely the gun did go off accidentally for no one really knows for sure. I’m inclined to believe the kid didn’t really mean to shoot anyone, that he just wanted to rob the little girl. I can’t get my head wrapped around any other more heinous possibility.

For the story does get murkier. Turns out the kid’s father (or stepfather or his mother’s “significant other”, it’s not clear) has quite the felon record. In addition, according to cable talking heads, there were quite a few weapons laying about that house. Not to mention the fellow was a felon and should have no firearms at all.

Poor kid. Growing up in an environment where armed robbery is something to emulate.

Let’s hope that gun went off by accident. Any other possibility makes me shiver.

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Election Day Tire Slashers Get Probation
I first wrote about this seriously under-the-radar crime in mid-January. Seems a bunch of Milwaukee Democrats got it into their head that the way to fairly win an election would be to slash the tires of the Republican party’s vehicles earmarked to transport voters of their party to the voting booths.

Only the Milwaukee prosecutor has a reputation for loving plea bargains so he did just that.

The bigger story here is that such an awful attack was waged against this country’s election system while all around the world we’re sending observers to insure fair elections in other countries. More, had this been Republican operatives involved in slashing tires of Democrats’ cars, I will be forever convinced one couldn’t make the headlines go away.

Finally, Wisconsin was won by John Kerry by a very close margin. We will never know who really carried the state of Wisconsin.

From The American Mind:

In an unexpected twist in the Election Day tire slashing trial, four former Kerry-Edwards campaign staffers, including the sons of U.S. Rep. Gwen Moore (D-Milwaukee) and former Acting Mayor Marvin Pratt, have agreed to plead no contest to misdemeanors. Prosecutors will recommend probation sentences as part of the deal.

The plea agreements came in the middle of jury deliberations after an eight-day trial on felony property damage charges that carried potential 3 1/2 year prison terms upon conviction.

The surprise resolution was offered by prosecutors at 2 p.m., nearly 7 hours into deliberations and an hour after a jury note complained of an impasse.

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The Latest on the “Cruise Ship Murder” …
…Or the tragedy that befell George Smith IV as he and his new bride honeymooned on a Royal Caribbean Cruise Ship called “Brilliance of the Sea”.

Here’s a more recent update on Smith’s death. Here’s a post made close to the time Smith disappeared.

A synopsis of George’s sad unknown fate is that he and his lovely bride spent much of their time publicly fighting, that George returned to his cabin, possibly with persons unknown, that George’s body outline was imprinted in blood on the canopy covering the rescue boats below his cabin. Nearby passengers heard loud thumps coming from the Smith’s cabin. Jennifer, George’s wife, was found passed out drunk in a nearby corridor and was escorted to her room by ship personnel somewhere around the time George went missing.

Beyond that, the timeline’s murky, the location of Jennifer is fuzzy, the persons partying with George Smith are mysterious.

It’s possible that George Smith IV fell overboard accidentally. However, that bloody image on the canopy at the least reveals that there was some sort of foul play. Foul play that may have caused a dazed Smith to fall overboard.

The latest news into the investigation of what happened to George Smith IV is that famed forensic expert Henry Lee has been hired to help with the investigation.

In keeping with his inscrutable nature, Lee professes to have found “something” but cannot tell us what it is.

More importantly, Lee wanted to test the tossing of a mannequin from the balcony to re-create the scenarios that might have caused Smith to go overboard. I’m no vaunted investigator but I would think such a thing would be a mandatory part of such an investigation. Royal Caribbean didn’t want such a test to be conducted for fear of alarming passengers embarking on the ship the day of Lee’s visit.

Let’s hope somebody comes back and conducts just such a test.

From Local10:

Lee was on board the Royal Caribbean cruise ship, Brilliance of the Seas, Monday with his forensic team to conduct his examination into the case of George Allen Smith IV, who disappeared July 5. Officials for cruise line limited Lee's time on board to two hours.

While the ship was in port in Miami, Lee was granted access to the cabin and balcony where Smith and his bride, Jennifer Hagel-Smith, stayed during the two-week cruise.

But, Lee was denied a request to toss mannequin from the balcony in an attempt to reenact what may have happened to Smith. A cruise line representative said that the request was denied because the cruise line thought it would be an inappropriate experiment since on Monday afternoon, nearly 5,000 passengers would be boarding and disembarking the ship.

After Lee and his team finished on board the Brilliance of the Seas, he told reporters, "I did find something, but I cannot tell you what it is."

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Another Unidentified Dead Toddler

This one judged to be three years old.

From Review Journal.com:

…families who traveled from all over the valley to mourn an unidentified Hispanic girl, believed to be about 3 years old, who was found dead Jan. 12 in a trash bin outside The Fountains of Villa Cordova apartments at 2800 S. Eastern Ave.

"I couldn't go to work the day I heard about her," said a tearful North Las Vegas grandmother who asked to be identified as Susana. "I was devastated. I can't imagine anyone doing something like that. It's just so cold."

The mostly Hispanic crowd filled the church and overflowed into the parking lot. Parents, grandparents and children brought teddy bears, stuffed animals and bouquets of pink roses and white carnations to lay beneath a poster-size composite picture of the brown-eyed girl authorities have dubbed "Jane Cordova Doe."

Three years old. Tossed into a trashcan like so much rubbish. I’m at a loss.

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Okay, So It’s Weird

But for the morbidly curious, Deadmaneating.com gives a listing of requested last meals. Gotta love that site name.

In fact, there is something curious about requested last meals before execution. The first of which would be the history of this practice. Said history also provided at the site.

Below is the last meal requested by the most recent death row inmate.

I can’t help but wonder why a person about to die would request sugar-free desserts.

But then that would be morbidly curious.

Last Meal:
clarence ray allen, california, january 17, 2006
the menu:
buffalo steak, a bucket of KFC white-meat-only chicken, sugar-free pecan pie, sugar-free black walnut ice cream, Indian pan-fried bread and whole milk. The ice cream was left out one hour to thaw, and Allen turned it into a milkshake by hand.

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Tough Talking Blogger Arranges Her Mother’s Murder

This has got to be one of the strangest true crimes of the month. Rachelle Waterman liked to post pictures of her self clad in studded leather collars. She also complained constantly on her blog about her very boring life. In fact, the name of her blog was ”My Crappy Life”. Below, a quote from Rachelle’s blog.

"Ode to Suicide."

Pain consumes my body,
Eating away like lye.
Tearing at my flesh
No more tears left to cry.

The Watermans were considered a close, tight-knit family in the small Alaskan town in which they lived. Rachelle liked to blog and many viewed her strange behavior, dress and blog posts as just those of a maturing, slightly troubled adolescent.

One day Rachelle and her father went away to different appointments. When they returned home, they were informed that Rachelle’s mother, Lauri Waterman, was found dead, burned in the family van.

The story of how Lauri Waterman came to die is as unbelievable as most anything one could read. For Rachelle, it is alleged, arranged for two local thugs to kill her mother. Indeed, Rachelle went to a volleyball tournament the day the thugs were scheduled to do the deed.

And so the deed was done. Lauri Waterman died a horrific death. The thugs who killed her alleged it was Rachelle who asked them to do it and that she gave them the information on how to get into the house and when was a good time.

Click to read the story of Rachelle Waterman, the strangest of strange adolescent bloggers. You simply won’t believe anyone could be so cold.

Waterman said she once told Arrant that her mother physically abused her, threatening her with a knife, beating her with a baseball bat and trying to push her down steps. She said Arrant became upset.

"Arrant tried to get her to go to the police, but she did not want to," according to prosecution papers. "She was depressed and suicidal about this abuse ... so he and Radel might have wanted to do something about it although she doubted they would commit murder

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EMT Kills Co-Worker By a Prank

Couple of things here. Joshua Martin was 25 years old. He had been trained as an Emergency Medical Technician.

Yet he still thought it would be a hoot to zap a co-worker with his defibrillator paddles.

I didn’t know that such a thing would kill a healthy person. Then I haven’t been trained as an EMT. Surely the trained Joshua knew that this kind of horseplay was dangerous.

According to the Times Dispatch, Joshua at first threatened his co-worker, a mother of two young children, with a zap from the paddles but she warned him to put the paddles away.

Still, Joshua leaned over the seat and surprised his colleague with a zap from the paddles. She died three days later, never having recovered from the coma the initial jolt put her in.

It gets even better. Joshua’s family sobbed in the court room, proclaiming Joshua to be a good boy, that he was just playing around.

Uh, I don’t think so. Joshua is not a good boy. He was warned to put the paddles away. He was likely trained that zapping healthy people was very dangerous. He did it anyway. Good boys don’t act that way.

Joshua stands to go away for ten years.

As he should.

LEBANON -- Joshua Philip Martin was in his fourth day on the job as a rescue-squad worker in Russell County when, in a playful mood, he decided to reach into the front seat of the ambulance and zap one of his co-workers with the defibrillator paddles. The rookie's mistake was fatal.

Yesterday, in Russell Circuit Court, a judge convicted Martin, 25, of involuntary manslaughter, warning the burly but pink-faced young man that when he returns to court in March, he likely will be sent to prison. He faces a maximum sentence of 10 years.

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More True Crime Updates HERE
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Rules to Save Your Life

1. Tip from Tae Kwon Do: The elbow is the strongest point on your body. If you are close enough to use it, do! 2. Learned this from a tourist guide in New Orleans. If a robber asks for your wallet and/or purse, DO NOT HAND IT TO HIM. Toss it away from you....chances are that he is more interested in your wallet and/or purse than you, and he will go for the wallet/purse. RUN LIKE MAD IN THE OTHER DIRECTION! 3. If you are ever thrown into the trunk of a car, kick out the back tail lights and stick your arm out the hole and start waving like crazy. The driver won't see you, but everybody else will. This has saved lives. 4. Women have a tendency to get into their cars after shopping, eating, working, etc., and just sit (doing their checkbook, or making a list, etc. DON'T DO THIS!) The predator will be watching you, and this is the perfect opportunity for him to get in on the passenger side, put a gun to your head, and tell you where to go. AS SOON AS YOU GET INTO YOUR CAR, LOCK THE DOORS AND LEAVE. a. If someone is in the car with a gun to your head DO NOT DRIVE OFF, repeat: DO NOT DRIVE OFF! Instead gun the engine and speed into anything, wrecking the car. Your Air Bag will save you. If the person is in the back seat they will get the worst of it. As soon as the car crashes bail out and run. It is better than having them find your body in a remote location. 5. A few notes about getting into your car in a parking lot, or parking garage: A.) Be aware: look around you, look into your car, at the passenger side floor, and in the back seat. B.) If you are parked next to a big van, enter your car from the passenger door. Most serial killers attack their victims by pulling them into their vans while the women are attempting to get into their cars. C.) Look at the car parked on the driver's side of your vehicle, and the passenger side. If a male is sitting alone in the seat nearest your car, you may want to walk back into the mall, or work, and get a guard/policeman to walk you back out. IT IS ALWAYS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY. (And better paranoid than dead.) 6. ALWAYS take the elevator instead of the stairs. (Stairwells are horrible places to be alone and the perfect crime spot. This is especially true at NIGHT!) 7. If the predator has a gun and you are not under his control, ALWAYS RUN! The predator will only hit you (a running target) 4 in 100 times; And even then, it most likely WILL NOT be a vital organ. RUN, Preferably ! in a zig -zag pattern! 8. As women, we are always trying to be sympathetic: STOP. It may get you raped, or killed. Ted Bundy, the serial killer, was a good-looking, well educated man, who ALWAYS played on the sympathies of unsuspecting women. He walked with a cane, or a limp, and often asked "for help" into his vehicle or with his vehicle, which is when he abducted his next victim. 9. Another Safety Point: Someone just told me that her friend heard a crying baby on her porch the night before last, and she called the police because it was late and she thought it was weird. The police told her "Whatever you do, DO NOT open the door." The lady then said that it sounded like the baby had crawled near a window, and she was worried that it would crawl to the street and get run over. The policeman said, "We already have a unit on the way, whatever you do, DO NOT open! the door." He told her that they think a serial killer has a baby's cry recorded and uses it to coax women out of their homes thinking that someone dropped off a baby. He said they have not verified it, but have had several calls by women saying that they hear baby's cries outside their doors when they're home alone at night. Shannon LaForge Courtroom Deputy to Judge Robert Junell U.S. District Court for the Western District

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A Different Take on Being a Redneck

We have enjoyed all the redneck jokes for years. It's time to take a reflective look at the core beliefs of a culture that values their home, family, country and God. If I had to stand before a dozen terrorists who threaten my life, I'd choose a half dozen or so rednecks to back me up. Tire irons, squirrel guns and grit -- that's what rednecks are made of. I hope I am one of those. If you feel the same, pass this on to your redneck friends. Ya'll know who ya' are... You might be a redneck if: It never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase, "One nation, under God." You might be a redneck if: You've never protested about seeing the 10 Commandments posted in public places. You might be a redneck if: You still say "Christmas" instead of "Winter Festival." You might be a redneck if: You bow your head when someone prays. You might be a redneck if: You stand and place your hand over your heart when they play the National Anthem. You might be a redneck if: You treat Viet Nam vets with great respect, and always have. You might be a redneck if: You've never burned an American flag. You might be a redneck if: You know what you believe and you aren't afraid to say so, no matter who is listening. You might be a redneck if: You respect your elders and expect your kids to do the same. You might be a redneck if: You'd give your last dollar to a friend. If you got this email from me, it is because I believe that you, like me, have just enough Red Neck in you to have the same beliefs as those talked about in this email. God Bless the USA! Gitt'er done!!!

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Ending With a Smile

HOSPITAL PATIENTS CHARTS - She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night. - Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year. - On the second day the knee was better, and on the third day it disappeared. - The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed. - The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993. - Discharge status: Alive but without my permission. - Healthy appearing decrepit 69 year old male, mentally alert but forgetful. - The patient refused autopsy. - The patient has no previous history of suicide. - Patient has left white blood cells at another hospital. - Patient's medical history has been remarkably insignificant with only a 40lb weight gain in the past 3 days. - Patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch. - Between you and me, we ought to be able to get this lady pregnant. - Since she can't get pregnant with her husband, I thought you might like to work her up. - She is numb from her toes down. - While in ER, she was examined, X-rated and sent home. - The skin was moist and dry. - Occasional, constant infrequent headaches. - Patient was alert and unresponsive. - Rectal examination revealed a normal size thyroid. - She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life, until she got a divorce. - I saw your patient today, who is still under our car for physical therapy. - Both breasts are equal and reactive to light and accommodation. - Examination of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized. - The lab test indicated abnormal lover function. - The patient was to have a bowel resection. However, he took a job as a stock broker instead. - Skin: somewhat pale but present. - The pelvic exam will be done later on the floor. - Patient was seen in consultation by Dr. Blank, who felt we should sit on the abdomen and I agree. - Large brown stool ambulating in the hall. - Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities

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More Miscellany posts HERE

Quotables-on Hillary, Ted Kennedy, Home Schooling Smile; Gardens-For the Winter Weary

 


A Harsh Truth About Hillary’s Plantation

For surely the sound byte of the past week has been Hillary Clinton’s allegation that the House of Representatives was run like a plantation and her assertion that her audience knew what she was “talking about”.

Said audience being a primarily black audience and the occasion for the speech the birthday of black icon, Martin Luther King.

Of all the rhetoric about this Hillary remark, I find this one, from Opinion Journal.com, to be the harshest as well as the truest.

Al Sharpton arranged that speech and if Al knows nothing else, he knows how to pander to the blacks of New York. He is a major reason Hillary even won her Senate seat in New York, carpetbagger that she is.

She plays on the black sense of grievance then politely walks all over their support in her insane quest for the presidency.

Has anybody seen the latest polls on Hillary? Two years before the 2008 elections, fully 51% of the public state they would never vote for the woman. If this many feel this way now, how bad will it be the close the election looms? Will the Democratic party give up any hope whatsoever of regaining power, all to appease this woman with exactly zero voter appeal?

Mrs. Clinton came to Al Sharpton's MLK celebration looking for an easy harvest of black votes. And she knew the drill--white liberals and Dems whistle for the black vote by pandering to the black sense of grievance. Once positioned as the white champions of this grievance, they actually turn black resentment into white liberal power. Today, Democrats cannot be competitive without this alchemy. So Mrs. Clinton's real insult to blacks--one far uglier than her plantation metaphor--is to value them only for their sense of grievance.

Mrs. Clinton's husband was a master of this alchemy, and his presidency also illustrated its greatest advantage. Once black grievance is morphed into liberal power, it need never be honored. President Clinton notoriously felt black pain, won the black vote, and then rewarded blacks with the cold shower of welfare reform. And here, now, is Mrs. Clinton sidling up to the trough of black grievance, eyes wide in expectation, but also a tad contemptuous. It is hard to fully respect one's suckers.

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Speaking of Hillary

Below, two quotes by Hillary on Iran. Immediately below, Hillary, allegedly the smartest woman in the world, complains during a recent speech in Princeton, N.J., that this administration is “outsourcing” negotiations on Iran. “Outsourcing” being a euphemism for letting the Germans, Russians and French handle Iran. Which is what the White House is doing. For now.

From Newsday:

"I believe that we lost critical time with ... Iran because the White House chose to downplay the threats and to outsource the negotiations," she said. "I don't believe ... in standing on the sidelines."

I am reminded of all of Hillary’s and her party’s yapping about the Bush administration’s alleged refusal to get the international community involved with Iraq. Now she yaps that they’re “outsourcing” the issue of Iran.

Heh.

But it gets better. From OnlineJournal.com: we have this Hillary quote from a speech before AIPAC (American Israel Political Action Committee):

“So let us be unequivocally clear. A nuclear-armed Iran is unacceptable, but it is not just unacceptable to Israel and to the United States. It must be unacceptable to the entire world, starting with the European governments and people. I know that during your conference and in the lobbying that you will be doing on Capitol Hill, you're trying to draw attention to the threat that is posed by a nuclear Iran. And I commend you for these efforts; this is one of our most serious security and foreign policy priorities. And we need to make working with our allies to prevent an Iranian nuclear weapon a top priority.

Hmmmmm. Here Hillary wants the administration to work “with our allies” on Iran.

Speaking from both sides of her mouth, shrewish, dishonest as all get out. And she thinks Americans are going to elect her?

Heh.

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Among Dick Durbin’s Reasons for Not Voting for Alito

Sam Alito, Bush’s recent nominee for Supreme Court Justice, does not, it would seem, like Bruce Springstein. This from a New Jersey native!

At least as Dick Durbin, Senator from Illinois, sees it. For how could a fine Lord from America’s House of Lords (a.k.a. the Senate) possibly vote for a native of New Jersey what doesn’t like The Boss? We’ve got to have standards for installing a judge on the most Supreme of Courts!

According to the Suntimes, Lord Dick Durbin laments:

"Judge Alito was extremely guarded in his answers. Judge Alito, a New Jersey native, wouldn't even say whether he was a Bruce Springsteen fan. I asked him about that, and his answer was, 'I am -- to some degree.' Now he may be one of the few people from New Jersey who has such cautious fealty to The Boss."

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On Jack Abramoff

There are no answers to the problem in the quotes below. There are, however, some not-to-be-denied observations.

From Chuckmuth News & Views:

ONE IN A MILLION

"It's called the 'Abramoff Scandal' because calling it the 'Washington Scandal' would hardly distinguish it from others."

- Paul Jacob of Americans for Limited Government

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Also from News & Views:

POLITICAL ANTS

"When you spread food out on a picnic table, you can expect ants. When you put $3 trillion on the table, you can expect special interests, lobbyists and pork-barrel politicians. As long as the federal government has so much money and power to hand out, we'll never get rid of the Abramoffs. Restrictions on lobbying deal with symptoms, not causes."

- David Boaz of the Cato Institute

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Ted Kennedy and Chutzpah

The bloated Lord from Massachusetts does lend himself so well to ridicule, does he not? I watched him today and the fine Lord made no attempt to pretend to be nothing more than reading the talking points from his special interest contributors.

It’s so sad. But why do the fine people of Massachusetts keep electing this loser?
From the Boston Globe:

THE CHUTZPAH OLYMPICS


"(Judge Robert) Bork's nomination to the Supreme Court was derailed so effectively that 'bork' became a verb meaning to ruthlessly savage a nominee's record in order to defeat his confirmation. And now (Sen Ted) Kennedy complains that judicial nominations are too politicized? If chutzpah were an Olympic event, he would walk away with the gold."

- Boston Globe columnist Jeff Jacoby

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Ending With a Smile

Came across this little funny and couldn’t help but smile.

The sad thing, every word of this tongue-in-cheek bit of sarcasm is true.

From Muth News&Views:

PUBLIC SCHOOL SOCIALIZATION

"When my wife and I mention we are strongly considering homeschooling our children, we are without fail asked, 'But what about socialization?' Fortunately, we found a way our kids can receive the same socialization that government schools provide.

"On Mondays and Wednesdays, I will personally corner my son in the bathroom, give him a wedgie and take his lunch money. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, my wife will make sure to tease our children for not being in the 'in' crowd, taking special care to poke fun at any physical abnormalities. Fridays will be 'Fad and Peer Pressure Day.' We will all compete to see who has the coolest toys, the most expensive clothes, and the loudest, fastest, and most dangerous car.

"Every day, my wife and I will adhere to a routine of cursing and swearing in the hall and mentioning our weekend exploits with alcohol and immorality. And we have asked (our kids) to report us to the authorities in the event we mention faith, religion, or try to bring up morals and values."

- From the Kolbe Little Home Journal, Fall 2005 (Thanks for sending this gem along, Dad!)

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More Notable/Quotables HERE
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Confusing January

Yes I’m starting to get the gardening blues. As expected, the bitter month comes to an end, the days start to grow longer, and dreams of gardens to come begin to capture the imagination.

This January’s been a bit strange. In that the weather, at least round these parts, has been inordinately mild.

Not that I’m complaining. Here in the swamps of Delaware we’ve had incredibly mild days, enough rain to keep things alive, and, we must whisper, no snow.

The plants and birds, however, are a bit confused. For the hedge roses are already turning a bright red that indicates the “blood” of chlorophyll is ready to flow. In addition, protective thorns grow sharp and angry and tiny leaflets are popping out over the plant.

All across our very green lawns, flocks of robins fly in and unless my eyes are deceiving me, seem to be poking the ground for their beloved worms. During the early morning hours I can hear the blue jays scream and new bird sounds that can only indicate some sort of migration.

I want to run out and shout for the hedge roses to STOP, stop the growing, stop with the thorns, stop it already. For while February is the shortest month, it can still pack a winter wallop.

Below is a montage of a garden cartoon and a collection of pictures of one of the most unique gardens I’ve seen in a while. Presented for those pining for the warm growing season ahead.

Winter will return here soon enough, I suspect.



More Gardens and Bird posts HERE

Smiling Sunday-Three Fishgiggles, A Pic and Cartoon; Review-Skating With Celebrities-2nd Night

 


A Beautiful Shooting Star and a Cartoon Smile


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More pics of week HERE

 


Why Women Lie!

One day, when a seamstress was sewing while sitting close to a river, her thimble fell into the river. When she cried out, the Lord appeared and asked, "My dear child, why are you crying?" The seamstress replied that her thimble had fallen into the water and that she needed it to help her husband in making a living for their family. The Lord dipped His hand into the water and pulled up a golden thimble set with pearls. "Is this your thimble?" the Lord asked. The seamstress replied, "No" The Lord again dipped into the river. He held out a silver thimble ringed with sapphires. "Is this your thimble?" the Lord asked. Again, the seamstress replied, "No." The Lord reached down again and came up with a leather thimble. "Is this your thimble?" the Lord asked. The seamstress replied, "Yes." The Lord was pleased with the woman's honesty and gave her all three thimbles to keep, and the seamstress went home happy. Some years later, the seamstress was walking with her husband along the riverbank, and her husband fell into the river and disappeared under the water. When she cried out, the Lord again appeared and asked her, "Why are you crying?" "Oh Lord, my husband has fallen into the river!" The Lord went down into the water and came up with Mel Gibson. "Is this your husband?" the Lord asked. "Yes," cried the seamstress. The Lord was furious. "You lied! That is an untruth!" The seamstress replied, "Oh, forgive me, my Lord. It is a misunderstanding. You see, if I had said 'no' to Mel Gibson, you would have come up with Tom Cruise. Then if I said 'no' to him, you would have come up with my husband. Had I then said 'yes,' you would have given me all three. Lord, I'm not in the best of health and would not be able to take care of all three husbands, so THAT'S why I said 'yes' to Mel Gibson." And so the Lord let her keep him. The moral of this story is: Whenever a woman lies, it's for a good and honorable reason, and in the best interest of others. That's our story, and we're sticking to it.

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Jesse Jackson Turning White?

Jesse Jackson got out of the shower and was drying off when he looked in the mirror and noticed he was white from the neck up to the top of his head. In sheer panic and fearing he was turning white and might have to start working for a living, he called his doctor and told him of his problem. The doctor advised him to come to his office immediately. After an examination, the doctor mixed a concoction of brown liquid, gave it to Jesse and told him to drink it all. Jesse did so in a single gulp and then exclaimed, "That tasted like bullshit!" The doctor replied, "It was, Jesse. You were a quart low."

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On Being Pregnant

A couple just started their Lamaze class and they were given an activity requiring the husband to wear a bag of sand to give him an idea of what it feels like to be pregnant. The husband stood up and shrugged saying, "This doesn't feel so bad." The instructor then dropped a pen and asked the husband to pick it up. "You want me to pick up the pen as if I were pregnant, the way my wife would do it?" the husband asked. "Exactly," replied the instructor. To the delight of the other husbands, he turned to his wife and said, "Honey, pick up that pen for me."

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More Fish Giggles HERE
 


TV Review: Fox's Skating With Celebrities-Second Night

My review on the premiere of this new "celebrity-doing-something-with-a-professional-something-to-revive -a-flaggin-career" was posted on 1/22/06.

Although a bit tongue-in-cheek, I have enjoyed this show and like it better than its counterpart, ABC's Dancing With the Stars, in some respects. Both shows show a "celebrity" moving fluidly around a surface of some sort with another, more professional partner. The Fox show features celebrities on ice, ABC has celebrities on the ballroom floor. Both involve pretty outfits, competition, handsome hosts and judges.

Skating With Celebrities does not have audience call-in though I originally thought that was the case. After this second show in the series, with one out of six contestants now eliminated, I understand the scoring system is a running balance of judge's points for artistic impression and technical merit. Each week the team with the lowest balance in points added from all routines to date will be eliminated.

On to my critique, such as it is.

Each week a new ice-skating move is required. In addition, each week the music will be of a specific genre. For the premiere show, the novice ice-skaters had to do three spins. In this second show in the series, the celebrities had to perform synchronized footwork for at least 1/2 the rink. The music for this second show was from the 70's. If you think "disco" you would be right.

First up were celebrity Kristy Swanson and her partner. Swanson had the lowest score of the premiere week although all the scores were very close. I thought Swanson's performance was much better than her performance in the premiere show and indeed the judges awarded the team a 25.2 for technical and a 25.5 for artistry. Bringing that team's total toa 98.2 for the first two shows.

Next was Bruce Jenner, a former Olympic champion, a brave 55 years old and claiming bad knees. I rather like this fellow although I doubt he will win. I like him because a)he's my age and b)I remember him from his famed Olympic days.

I thought Jenner and his partner's routine was very good, quite fluid. One judge commented snidely that Jenner was "not in the same shape as the 70's", an understatement. Jenner and his partner scored a 49.0 total for this night's routine, bringing their score to a 97.8 cumulative for both nights.

Jillian Berberie was the third celebrity performer. Barberie is very pretty and seems to know a lot about ice-skating. She and her partner scored the highest on the premiere show. In the pre-routine vignette, Barberie was said to have a groin injury. But the show went on.

I did note that Jillian's professional skating partner carried her around a lot during this routine. Even so, Jillian did her turns nicely and to my unpracticed eye, she looked very professional. One judge loved her footwork while another found the performance "disappointing".

Berberie and her partners scored a 50.4 for this night's performance bringing their cumulative score to 102.2.

Next up was celebrity Deborah Gibson. They performed a 70's disco routine complete with the BeeGees in background and a hip 70's hairstyle for the male of the duo. I thought the choreography for their routine was exceptional. One judge pronounced the routine "okay" while another termed it "very smart".

Deborah and her partner scored a total of 48.3 points bringing their cumulative to 96.3.

The final performance was by former child star Todd Bridges. For his routine he sported a happening Afro hairstyle, the black hairstyle of hip during the 70's. My initial thoughts were that Todd was really an awkward skater and then, boom, the big drama of the second night in the series, Todd fell down!

Well it was bound to happen what with a bunch of admittedly inexperienced skaters suddenly charged with the execution of spins and fancy footwork. It still surprised me when it happened.

Bridges and his partner scored a 47.9 for this routine, bringing their cumulative total to 95.6.

Todd and his partner were eliminated during that second night of the series.

The remaining contestants now include:

Jillian Berberie & John Zimmerman

Kurt Browning & Deborah Gibson

Nancy Kerrigan & Dave Coulier

Tai Babilonia & Bruce Jenner

Kristy Swanson & Lloyd Eisler

Same as the premiere night of the series, Jillian Berberie still carries the highest score, both cumulative and for both individual nights of competition.

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More TV Reviews HERE
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Rush Limbaugh-What He Does Wrong, What He Does Not Explain; Pampered Pets-the Dog Who Wants to Play With Cats

 


Where Rush Limbaugh Gets It Wrong

I love Rush Limbaugh. Love everything about the man, love his show, love his wit, love his fluid reading voice, love his talent. A week without Rush is a sad week is I see it.

But for so long I’ve had some thoughts about Rush, thoughts about some things he doesn’t explain to my satisfaction. Also, I think Rush Limbaugh lacks something major in his program and I’d like to take this opportunity to lament.

Beyond my love of Rush, a moment of solemn appreciation for the incredible talent the man possesses that will likely never be equaled, much less excelled, by any radio personality of our era. The man is good at what he does and a bow to excellence is warranted.

Of course many despise Rush Limbaugh, as would be the case with such a polarizing figure. I expect brickbats and rabid anti-Rush comments might accompany this post. Which is fine but anti-Rush zealots are not who I am writing to here. I write to those who listen to Rush Limbaugh, enjoy his show, humor and wit, but might too want this beloved commentator to dwell more on specific issues that trouble me.

This audience of Limbaugh’s would be the fine conservative women of our country. Who constantly get short shrift from this paragon of talk radio excellence.

As I understand it, Limbaugh’s audience demographics consist mostly of males. I don’t know why this is so but if true, then I can certainly think of some ways Rush could get some more female listeners. The hand that rocks the cradle rocks the world, as the saying goes. By breezing over conservative female listeners, and they are out there, Rush’s influence will always be lacking something major and beautiful.

I have some ideas how Rush could boost his female audience but for now, my first soft complaint about Rush Limbaugh’s show and how it leaves me empty at times.

It’s the “Liberal” rant.

Yes, I understand the concept of idealology and firmly subscribe to Thomas Jefferson’s theory of “countervailing forces”; the notion that this country will occasionally go through swings in idealology that will ultimately move the idealogical pendulum from right to left and back to center- as social, legal, even international needs warrant. During the sixties the country was undergoing serious changes to civil rights and racial inequality. There was a strange war in a strange land that required conscripted soldiers to fight. The situation during that era was rife for change. It was a scenario screaming for needed change and through Liberal thoughts and ideas, needed change came. In this new century, and especially after that attack on our peaceful citizens on 9-11-01, comes the time to pull the pendulum back a bit by applying more conservative thought and stern policy to insure this country’s peace and prosperity.

This is the part that bothers me about Rush Limbaugh. He goes on and on about the mysterious “Liberals” and I must wonder who they are. Is there some sort of secret cabal out there, a cabal of card-carrying Liberals who regularly meet to exchange ideas and plans to achieve their ends? Rush goes on and on about “the Liberals”. Who are they? What is their motive? How can we stop them?

Of course I understand the notion of “Liberals” and, at times, refer to them as “Moonbats” such is my exasperation. It’s frustrating to know that there are people out there who are against democracy of all things, in the Mideast. How could democracy ever be a bad thing? While many might argue, intelligently, that it is not America’s job to go all over the world delivering democratic ideals to those who do not want it, I must argue back that once those despots and dictators managed to create a citizenry who cast their eyes of hatred towards a peaceful United States- then proceed to hijack our legal airplanes flying in our legal air space to kill our citizens whose only crime was going to work in their pursuit of happiness- then America’s decision to install democracy in those countries is a sound and sane choice.

We did the same thing with Japan and Germany, did we not? Once Japan got it into its head to bomb the hell out of our ships sitting peacefully in our lawful harbors, well we took action. Once Germany decided to murder all of its Jewish citizens to create a united Europe governed by the Third Reich and purged of Jews, we took action. Both of these countries are now democratic and have they attacked us since?

With a bit of common sense I can figure out that oil money is a big lure. The Saudis, the Iranians, the former dictator Saddam, all have or had control of big oil bucks and they rather like it that way. If their citizens get uppity then direct their hatred to the big Satan across the Atlantic and let us keep our power. Time for these thugs and thieves to go is what I’m saying here. And we’ve got Hugo Chavez bringing up the rear and is it any coincidence that Venezuela has major oil wealth that the lovely Hugo rather enjoys controlling? Follow the money, always a tried and true method.

“Liberals”, whoever they are and whatever their motive, seem to be on the wrong side here. At least as I see it but let’s get back to Rush Limbaugh. He’s the fellow who should be explaining this to us yet somehow he has managed to glom onto the word “Liberal” and uses it indiscriminately and without explanation. Leaving this listener ready to scream: Who are these Liberals and what’s in it for them? At times I’d like to slap Rush and snap him out of that comfortable niche he’s settled into and beg him to get a little more specific. I cannot fight “Liberals” when I don’t know where they’re at and why they do what they do. Rush leaves me empty on this one.

As for Rush’s sad lack of appeal to the females of our country, well the guy is a male. Right there is a problem. I daresay Limbaugh would the first person to readily admit that there’s differences between males and females. Inherent differences governed by nature, differences that might not be fair but are provided by nature and our genes so there’s no sense denying it. Yet this female feels that Rush Limbaugh gives no womanly perspective; that he doesn’t even try.

Though as I understand it, Rush Limbaugh’s producers go to great pains to put female callers through, perhaps for this very reason, it’s still almost impossible to get through to Rush Limbaugh. If sitting and waiting for female callers is the only methodology used by the Limbaugh staff to encourage feminine input, then it’s a lost cause. While I know that Rush doesn’t normally have guests on his show, it might be wise to once in a while, have a conservative female join Rush. On perhaps Rush’s staff could do some research and find conservative females, unknown and uncelebrated, i.e. go out and find some feminine input.

Women are notorious for declaring themselves “Liberal” when the process of managing a household and raising a family is itself a conservative activity. It’s time to educate these kind ladies who consider a “Liberal” a person of great compassion and love and thus choose the title based solely on this perception. Hey Rush, over 50% of this country is female and so long as they choose the prized title of a “Liberal” well, you lose.

After I’d already written this post Rush Limbaugh did have a female caller on his program (Friday –1/27/06) and it was a disaster.

The lady was not a conservative, definitely, but I don’t know I’d call her a liberal. Rush encourages liberals to call and take him on. I thoughts she was a bit of a nut as she asserted that George W. Bush knew the attack of 9-11 was coming and did nothing about it. She also said that President Clinton stopped a terrorist attack in 2000 when an alert FBI agent caught a fellow coming in from Canada with a car load of explosives in his trunk. Now it’s history here that we were attacked in 1993 in the World Trade Center, then the U.S.S. Cole, then many attacks on our embassies in various countries. Clinton failed to stop any of these attacks but the slightly off-center lady mentions that incident with the bomb in the car that had nothing to do with Clinton. Clinton also failed to bring in Bin Laden when offered by the Sudan. So that female callers grip of history is a bit bent.

But Rush decided to engage the woman and then he did the really dumb. Proving my point about Rush. He called the lady “Honey”. Her immediate response was “Don’t call me honey,” and I don’t blame her.

Even though Rush Limbaugh is a master of his craft and can make love to the spoken word, how dumb is it to engage in a serious conversation with a woman and first thing, you call her “honey”? In a rather condescending tone at that because I heard it with my own ears. That would infuriate me in the same circumstances, much less a batty woman who thinks President Bush bombed the World Trade Center. The incident proves to me that Rush is out of touch with conservative women, indeed women in general.

No I have never tried to phone into Rush’s program or do I intend to. I made the transition from Liberal to Conservative my own self, more as part of Thomas Jefferson’s countervailing forces more than anything else. It’s been the manner of our country’s social development since its inception and nothing will nudge that pendulum more than an attack on our own soil. Women get this. If nothing else, women want to protect the children, maintain the families, spread love or sternness, as the need requires.

Yet Rush Limbaugh, maestro of talk radio, continually ignores this segment of the population that could push the concept of conservatism even more than his own fine self.

 

The Dog That Wants to Play With Cats She ain’t nothing but a dog. She was born a dog, live a dog, will die… a dog. I tell this to our three year old Belgian Malinois all the time. For she is a dog what picture should be under the word “dog” in the dictionary. Not that there’s anything wrong with this. Being a dog has been an honorable occupation since man first stood on two legs. Dogs regularly prance around show rings, heads held high, flanks smooth and combed, eyes bright and proud. All across the fruited plains Americans share their homes with various and sundry types of canines and they do with it with love and good will. A dog is NOT a cat. Now the Belgian Shepherd knows this, please understand. In fact, all of our life we’ve lived with both cats and dogs, usually in multiples of each, and they somehow claim their spaces, make their rules, and get along. The former big dog of the household, a mutt of indiscernible origin, accepted cats as part of her life with magnanimity and indeed, often interceded in the occasional cat fights that we should all just get along. Jo-Ann is still working on certain dog issues that have not yet matured. For one thing, she is a big galoot of a dog that regularly can be seen carrying five, six, seven, eight toys in her mouth at one time, however many fit. This does not make for canine gravitas. Another thing, as characteristic of her breed, Jo-Ann has a temperament that has her swinging from chandeliers and bouncing off the walls. She’s three years old now. She wants to play with our four cats desperately. Yet the dog genes kick in and no matter what the situation, inevitably Jo-Ann ends up chasing the cats. The cats, for their part, do not take the big galoot seriously at all and as I tried to pierce Jo-Ann’s dog brain with my words, cats can JUMP! Heh. Well that pretty much puts an end to any games upon as the 70 pound shepherd has no access to high cat poles with shelves just below the ceiling. It’s a dog thing, the chasing instinct. I’ve never met a dog that didn’t consider wheels the enemy, whether on roller skates, lawnmowers, even cars. They move fast, you see, and go round and round. Dogs chase balls more because the things are moving and dogs, well they chase stuff. Including cats that run. Once Jo-Ann chases a cat, which is pretty much anytime they move with any swiftness beyond a crawl, they jump up high. Then, from high over the galoot dog and safe on a shelf, they look down on the dopey dog and the game, as I explain to Jo-Ann, is pretty much over. Now and again the cats are up for a game with the dog. They will walk around her slowly and once they have her attention, they begin to run. Which, as expected, causes Jo-Ann to chase them. The cats, as expected, jump up high and as a group they gaze down on the fooled dog and who knows, maybe they laugh amongst themselves. We have a new kitten. Jo-Ann desperately wants to be friends with the kitten. As for the kitten, after an initial fear of the great big dog compared to her very little self, she got a clue from the other cats and soon enough figured how to jump and indeed, joined in the teasing game with the other felines. Jo-Ann’s big brown eyes fill with the pain of any school child when confronted by mocking bullies. She only wants to play. Being little more than a child herself, Jo-Ann watches the cats engage in their cat games and would like to join in. Heh. The other cats know Jo-Ann is nothing but a dog. So with a huge black nose pressed against the window of cat play, Jo-Ann becomes the kid never picked to be on the team. Instead of joining in on the merry cat games, Jo-Ann BECOMES the cat game. I try to explain this to her but she ain’t nothing but a dog.

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On Keeping Cats Healthy

Better food, more check-ups help cats live longer By Jill Bowen Source: Roanoke Times & World News Q: You have written recently about old cats. I have two 15-year- old cats that appear to be in good health. How much longer do you think they will live? Is there anything special that I ought to be doing for them? I read somewhere of a cat that lived to 29 years. What are the chances that mine will live to that age? A: Cats are living longer than ever before and, by and large, they are living healthier lives thanks in a large part to advances in feline nutrition and veterinary medicine. While heritage plays a part in longevity, better commercial cat foods, early neutering and regular veterinary checkups including vaccinations play an important part. A complete balanced diet is important, as is palatability, as cats are fastidious feeders. As cats get older they lose some of their sense of smell, and consequently, a diminution in the sense of taste, so the brand of food you feed them may have to be changed to accommodate these deficiencies. Dry food is convenient and cheaper than wet food. However, as most cats enjoy wet food, it can be used to tempt them when dry food looses its appeal. Any cat that has had an urinary tract problem needs to be fed wet food, as well as an increased amount of water, to reduce the risk of formation of bladder stones and crystals, which can be a serious problem in male cats. Diseases affecting older cats can be difficult to detect as their onset is usually slow and many times owners think that the signs of an insidious disease are just those of normal aging. If your cat shows any of the following signs, a trip to the veterinarian is suggested to check that there is not an under lying correctable problem: - Joint stiffness and loss of flexibility, which may be a sign of arthritis. - Weight loss, which may be a symptom of gum inflammation and tartar plaques on the teeth. This interferes with eating and may make it painful, causing a decrease in appetite. - Obesity and increase in appetite. Overweight cats are at risk for a number of medical problems, especially diabetes, respiratory and heart problems as well as joint problems. - Increased thirst and urination, often a sign of diabetes or kidney disease. - Poor coat hair quality and lack of grooming. Older cats that are stiff find the effort of maintaining their coat in good condition a great effort, but they appreciate a daily grooming from their owner. Lack of grooming may also denote a tooth problem such as tartar or periodontal disease. - Vomiting, diarrhea or constipation occur more often in older cats, which can be a symptom of hairballs or a more serious systemic problem. Spaying female cats before six months or their first heat reduces the chance of them developing mammary cancer as they age. This cancer is nearly always malignant and lethal in cats. If a cat is overweight, care must be taken in dieting, as cats that are on a reduced diet can develop a fatty liver if the dieting is too severe. A gradual reduction in food will be more beneficial. Producing a weight loss of approximately one pound a month is good and will mean that the cat is not permanently crying by the fridge. To prevent overeating, feed the cat twice daily rather than allowing dry food to be fed ad lib. Cats that are prone to tartar build up on their teeth need dry food, as this helps to prevent tartar build up, though it may be necessary for a professional teeth cleaning at the veterinarian's at least once a year. This cleaning can be arranged to coincide with the annual check up and visit for booster vaccinations. Not so long ago the average life span of a cat was considered to be 12 years; nowadays it is quite common to have cats living to 18 years. Cats that are totally indoor cats are said to live longer as a rule than cats that go outside, although my last three cats, which are both indoor and outdoor cats, were all in their upper teens before they were put to sleep as a final act of kindness after their long and happy lives. One having even accompanied us from England in the late seventies lived to be nearly 20.

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On Fleas and Other Pests

NEW YORK /PRNewswire via COMTEX/ -- Despite veterinarians' efforts to educate clients about the damaging effects of heartworm disease, both dogs and cats appear to be under-protected from this potentially fatal disease. In fact, nearly 40 percent of U.S. dogs are not on a heartworm preventive medication(1) and 95 percent of cats leave their veterinarians office without a heartworm prevention prescription(2). And although many cat owners believe their indoor cats are not at risk, one study showed that 25 percent of cats diagnosed with heartworm disease were indoor cats, according to their owners(3). "Heartworm disease not only can be life-threatening, but can cause disease in dogs and cats, and make them more susceptible to other diseases down the road," said Byron Blagburn, DVM, PhD, professor of parasitology, Auburn University. "Because every unprotected dog or cat is at risk for heartworm disease, I'm a strong advocate for year-round preventive medication." Georgette Wilson, DVM, veterinary operations, Pfizer Animal Health, explained that if a pet is not on heartworm medication year-round, there is a window of opportunity for a pet to be infected with heartworm. Additionally, when heartworm disease isn't treated, it's often fatal. "Pet owners need to understand that once their pet becomes infected with heartworm, the treatments currently available for dogs have potentially serious health complications -- and are expensive. Even worse, there are no approved treatments for cats, so the end result may be a serious chronic disease or death," said Wilson. "Weigh that risk with treating a pet for 12 months a year." Wilson added, "Heartworm is so easy to prevent and so hard to treat. It's one of the few diseases out there like that." Two critical facts about preventing heartworm that pet owners might not know: 1. Heartworms go through five larval stages in the mosquito and dog or cat before reaching adulthood. Because commercially available canine heartworm tests only detect the adult stage, dogs may test negative if the heartworm is in the immature (larval) stages. 2. If a pet is placed on a monthly heartworm preventive and the L5 larvae is already in its system, adult heartworms could develop because preventive medications are only effective against the L3 and L4 larval stages. This pet, even while on a preventive medication, would subsequently test positive once the L5 larvae develop to mature adults. FLEAS - Once fleas take up residence in your house, eradicating them can be a horrendous experience. And it's no wonder why, considering: -- Once an adult, female flea lands on a pet, she can lay 50 eggs a day and more than 2,000 eggs in a lifetime(4). -- The complete life cycle of the flea can be completed in as little as 12-14 days or prolonged up to 180 days(3). -- Adult fleas cannot survive or lay eggs without a blood meal, but may live in the pupal stage from two months to one year without feeding(5). -- Only 5 percent of a home's flea population are adults, which are easily recognizable to the naked eye(4). -- It can take four to eight weeks or longer of topical medication use to completely eradicate all flea life stages from the home(5). -- In the flea life cycle, intermediate stages spend up to 90 percent of their time off the animal(6). However, the adult flea prefers to spend its entire life on just one host. And for every six adult fleas seen, there are 300 more in immature stages in the environment or on the pet(7). "Fleas are malleable, adjustable and amazingly adaptable creatures," said Byron Blagburn, DVM, PhD, professor of parasitology, Auburn University. "They will adjust to whatever situation they have to in their environment to survive - cooler weather, lack of moisture, lack of stimulus - that's why they're such a big problem." "The fleas' stages of life extend way beyond just the adult fleas and maybe an egg or two. In fact, for every adult flea you see, there are about 50 more in immature stages in the environment," said Georgette Wilson, DVM, veterinary operations, Pfizer Animal Health. "That's why it's so important for pet owners to commit to a year-long preventive medication - when fleas invade, they invade beyond what the naked eye can see." Only 5 percent of a home's flea population are adults that you can see. Since there are no products effective against all flea life stages, it is important to use a monthly preventive medicine to eliminate the chance of infestation. "Just a low level of infestation of fleas in varying stages in the environment can take a considerable amount of time to overcome," added Blagburn. "I recommend keeping pets on a flea preventive medication year-round to never allow for those parasites to take off." YEAR-ROUND PROTECTION Although veterinarians continue to educate pet owners on canine and feline parasite protection, it seems that some pets are still unprotected for months at a time, seriously threatening their health as they become a walking target for fleas and other irritating parasite invaders. "Year-round protection is the best medicine, because there are factors beyond our control such as travel schedules, exposure to other animals, and aberrant weather patterns that result in high parasite levels at off-times of the year," explained Georgette Wilson, DVM, veterinary operations, Pfizer Animal Health. "Pet owners shouldn't take any chances. It's much more convenient, and in the best interest of the pet, to administer parasite control year-round." Additionally, the necessary level of parasite protection for "indoor" cats continues to raise questions. Although the majority of indoor cats may stay indoors, the outdoors, such as mud, insects and rodents, can easily find its way into the home. These outdoor elements might harbor parasite eggs or larvae, disease-carrying organisms, fleas, ticks or heartworms. In fact, one study showed that 25 percent of cats diagnosed with heartworm disease were solely indoor cats, according to their owners(2). "In my clinic, when a pet owner comes in with a cat they consider 'exclusively' indoors, I always say first, 'your cat is here today,' and second, 'have you ever seen a mosquito inside your house?'" said Wilson. "Situations like that are eye-openers. Think about when your cats go on the porch, out on the balcony, windowsill or in the backyard - anywhere they can become exposed to other animals or other diseases." Wilson added that pet owners need to understand that even if their pet may not have direct contact with other animals, they may have been exposed to parasites before they were born or when they were nursing from their mother. Parasites have unique ways of hiding in the body and they may not show up for some time. Parasites are more than just irritating to the pet. They can also cause disease in the animal and even cause zoonotic diseases (disease agents shared by humans and animals) in surrounding family members. In fact, it is estimated that 3 to 6 million people are infected with roundworm each year(8). The good news is that parasite prevention is easy. However, the only way to ensure complete protection against some of the worst parasitic enemies, including fleas, heartworm, ear mites, hookworm and roundworm, is to administer year-round, broad-spectrum protection, ringing true for dogs and both outdoor AND indoor cats. "Year-round parasite protection is the fool-proof way to keep your pet healthy and happy," explained Wilson. "Preventive medications today are very safe, very convenient and very effective - there is no reason pets should be under-protected, or not protected at all." Talk to your veterinarian about staying on a steady parasite protection routine for your pet and ensure healthy years ahead.

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More Pampered Pets HERE

Gossip-Pam Anderson Goes After Breasts, Worst Movies 2005; Fiction-The Screaming Blue Jays

 


Shelly Winters Rest In Peace


My favorite character played by Ms. Winters was in The Poseidon Adventure. In that movie she was an overweight has-been who swore she had one more last swim under-water in her. Which she did. Winters’ character swam some distance under-water as the plot required to get the remaining cast to safety. Winters’ character died after that swim but the rest were saved.

May Shelly Winters rest in peace in heaven where everyone is skinny and can swim under-water for hours.

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Now This Is Neat

Imagine how much genuine comet dust would get on E-bay. Even more so from a comet named Wild 2.

The possibilities are endless. Comet dust enclosed in necklaces. Comet dust sprinkled throughout the burned ashes of the cremated. Comet dust good luck charms could get some buyers.

Then again, consider the scams.

Heh.
From Pajamas Media:

DUGWAY PROVING GROUND, Utah, Jan. 15, 2006 (AP Online delivered by Newstex) -- After a seven-year journey, a NASA space capsule returned safely to Earth on Sunday with the first dust ever fetched from a comet, a cosmic bounty that scientists hope will yield clues to how the solar system formed.

The capsule's blazing plunge through the atmosphere lit up parts of the western sky as it capped a mission in which the Stardust spacecraft swooped past a comet known as Wild 2.

"This is not the finish line. This is just the intermediate pit stop," said project manager Tom Duxbury of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, Calif., which managed the $212 million mission.

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Ebert and Roeper’s Worst Movies of 2005

Provided as a public service. I never saw a single one.

Roger Ebert's Worst Movies of 2005:
1. "Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo"
2. "Dukes of Hazzard"
3. "Dirty Love"
4. "D.E.B.S."
5. "Son of the Mask"
6. "Doom"
7. "Constantine"
8. "Undead"
9. "Elektra"
10. "Fantastic Four"

Richard Roeper's Worst Movies of 2005:
1. "Dukes of Hazzard"
2. "Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo"
3. "Monster in Law"
4. "The Longest Yard"
5. "Stealth"
6. "Miss Congeniality 2"
7. "The Man"
8. "Guess Who"
9. "Bewitched"
10. "The Legend of Zorro"

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”Dr. Who” Comes to America

A cult classic, soon to be available on the Sci Fi Channel.

From The DemocraticDaily:

The BBC has reached an agreement with Sci Fi Channel to air the first season of the new Dr. Who series starting in March. It will air at 9:00 p.m. on Fridays as part of Sci Fi Friday, along with shows such as the remake of Battlestar Gallactica. The original Dr. Who series was a cult favorite when it aired in the United States on PBS. The new series was success on BBC both in terms of critical review and ratings.

Sci Fi Channel also has an option on the second series. As part of the arrangement, release of the DVD set of the first season has been delayed until July 4, 2006 rather than around March as originally planned.

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An Action Rife for Derision

Pamela Anderson, she of the big boobs, is on a quest. It’s an important one so don’t snort. The lady wants the bust, heh, of KFC founder Colonel Sanders, removed from Kentucky’s state Capitol building.

What was the good Colonel’s crime that has Pam so upset?

He’s guilty of cruelty to chickens, says Pam of the great intellect.

At times, ladies and gems, the actresses and actors of our world must embrace a cause for purposes of publicity. Why Pamela Anderson chose alleged cruelty to chickens as her cause can cause smirks. Lots of guffaws about breasts and such come to mind.

How serious can such an action be? Banning a bust of the very innocent Colonel Sanders, now how much traction is this going to get?

Heh.

From MSN.com:

Pamela Anderson Takes Aim at KFC

FRANKFORT, Ky. -- Pamela Anderson is leading a charge to remove a bust of KFC founder Colonel Harland Sanders from the state Capitol.

The actress called the Kentucky native's likeness "a monument to cruelty" to chickens in a statement issued by People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, the animal rights group.

The statement did little to ruffle feathers in Gov. Ernie Fletcher's office.

"Colonel Sanders was one of Kentucky's most distinguished citizens, a great entrepreneur and a fine charitable man of faith, and he certainly has a place in Kentucky history. We believe he warrants appropriate recognition as such," Fletcher spokeswoman Jodi Whitaker said.

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It Was Bound to Happen

Seems it’s mostly the female unborn in India that do not get born.

Cultural factors in India make pre-natal selection more of a factor than it might be elsewhere. Female children are expected to provide handsome dowries upon marriage. A male child not only carries on the family name, but is the recipient of those dowries.

Which is why there’s a problem in India with the live births of female children, coincidentally more amongst the wealthier and more-educated in India.

In our own country, thanks to a Supreme Court ruling which took the legislation and oversight of abortion out of the lawmaking process on to a federal right, many late-term partial birth abortions are for the purposes of sex selection. It’s a little known fact and for now, thankfully, partial birth abortion is rare though the civilized would argue it shouldn’t happen at all.

Thus begins the mucking up of nature’s plan. With no human or scientific intervention, Mother Nature manages to get it pretty much right, with female and male births practically equal.

Does not anyone see the problem here? A country with a higher percentage of males than females might soon be the norm. How on earth can this ever be a good thing?

By Scott Baldauf,

Staff writer of The Christian Science Monitor

Fri Jan 13, 3:00 AM ET


NEW DELHI - Banned by Indian law for more than a decade, the practice of prenatal selection and selective abortion remains a common practice in India, claiming up to half a million female children each year, according to a recent study by the British medical journal, The Lancet.

The use of ultrasound equipment to determine the sex of an unborn child - introduced to India in 1979 - has now spread to every district in the country. The study found it played a crucial role in the termination of an estimated 10 million female fetuses in the two decades leading up to 1998, and 5 million since 1994, the year the practice was banned. Few doctors in regular clinics offer the service openly, but activists estimate that sex-selection is a $100 million business in India, largely through mobile sex-selection clinics that
can drive into almost any village or neighborhood.

The practice is common among all religious groups - Hindus, Sikhs, Jains, Muslims, and Christians - but appears to be most common among educated women, a fact that befuddles public health officials and women's rights activists alike.

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Blind Item Fun

ASKED

BEN WIDDICOMBE'S GATECRASHER

Which emaciated actress was grinding her teeth so hard while presenting at the National Board of Review Awards that the crowd was making bets how much booger sugar she had loaded up on before the ceremony?

Some Additional Info:

"Other stars in the audience who came to present awards included Sigourney Weaver, Susan Sarandon, Queen Latifah, Ellen Barkin, Martin Scorsese, Eric Bogosian, Gretchen Mol, director Tod Williams, director Kenneth Lonergan (suffering from laryngitis), Amanda Peet, S. Epatha Mekerson, “Transamerica” director Duncan Taylor, “Mrs. Henderson” writer Martin Sherman, “Good Night and Good Luck” star David Strathairn and actor/director Reuben Santiago Hudson, who’s inherited the legacy of directing plays left behind by the late August Wilson."

GUESSED

Ellen Barkin admitted she was drunk.

Amanda Peet looking too thin in a dress that just hung on her.

Sigourney Weaver

Gretchen Mol (presenter)

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Solving the Rubik’s Cube in 11.13 Seconds

Myself spent many hours trying to solve the Rubik’s cube. A puzzle game that was all the rage when I was a younger (much younger) woman.

11.13 seconds? While they bring their own cube to the competition, a computer program randomly sorts the squares so all contestants start with a properly mixed cube.

Well I’m impressed all to hell.

From Breitbart.com:

A 20-year-old California Institute of Technology student set a new world's record for solving the popular Rubik's Cube puzzle, turning the tiled brain-twister from scrambled to solved in 11.13 seconds.
Leyan Lo is part of Caltech's Rubik's Cube Club, a brainy clutch of students that hosted the competition at the Exploratorium museum in San Francisco. Lo's record-setting time came early Saturday, among his first five tries in the preliminary rounds.

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More Gossip/Speculation HERE
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The Screaming Angels

Dear Harry,
I can't tell you how pleased my husband and I are over your assuming managership of the boys' band. We are quite pleased with the success of their song "Devilish Angel" but frankly, not as surprised as the rest of the world seems to be.
You've asked me to write up a history of the band and below I have done just this. It's a good story and if you will forgive me for the drama of the thing, you will also see just why we are not surprised at Kevin's determination and perseverance. The story really began, you will see, when Kevin was four years old.
We've both looked at your mockup of the band's logo and understand that all members of the band approve. My husband and I also approve, quite heartily.
What a beautiful blue and white angel.
===================================
"Do you think you could keep the racket down just a bit, Kevin?" I shouted over the cacophony that these boys called "music" and deigned to "practice" in our off-the-kitchen garage.
"Aw, Mom. Have a heart. We got a big gig this Thursday night and we need the practice."
"Thursday night?" I asked with this revelatory disclosure. Kevin knew week nights were not band nights.
"I told you, Mom. It's a school dance, for Christ’s sake. Amy Pitcher recommended us, but we had to try out before the committee just like any other band. We only found out last week that we got the job."
"Kevin," I said, quietly but with that unmistakable tone of a lecture now upon. "Can I please see you in the kitchen?"


"I thought I told you no band dates on school nights. I don't know when you supposedly told me this, but I have no recollection. It's part of the deal, you know."
Kevin removed his baseball cap, wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, and replaced the cap over his sweaty hair.
"Mom, I told both you and Dad about this dance. The thing is over by 11:00 pm. It's being sponsored by the booster club. We're going to sing only songs with the word "angel" in them. It's a great way to advertise our band, especially at school and with all the end of year dances coming up."
If I'd had a baseball cap I'd have thrown it at him.
"You didn't tell us about the dance being on a school night. Or was this a convenient oversight?"
Kevin removed his baseball cap yet again and threw it across the kitchen in disgust. He then stormed from the room in adolescent angst at parents that would prevent band gigs on school nights.
I calmly watched all this action and sighed. Kevin's grades were good. But I would insist they were good because John and I kept after him. And one way we kept after him was to confine his band practice and actual gigs to after school and non-school nights. Not that he and his ragtag crew that called themselves "The Screaming Angels" had all that many gigs. Mostly they played at a few wedding receptions and bar mitzvahs. Once they were chosen to be a "filler" band for a famous rock band that stormed our town with a week of concerts. Seems I remember this band has "angel" in their name too, and I wondered if that was why "The Screaming Angels" were picked to begin with.
Still, Kevin was committed to his music and even with the paucity of actual performance dates, what he had garnered was still no small potatoes for what was essentially a garage band.
I heard various car motors come to life and felt the reverberation of slamming doors. Kevin must have sent the band home, I surmised. I was willing to bet that there would be further anguished discussion on this matter when Kevin's father was home.


I picked up Kevin's baseball cap and couldn't help but smile at the picture of the team mascot on its front. I poured myself a cup of coffee and situated myself in a warm sunbeam for the reminisce.
Kevin's band's name was not his own invention, it would seem. The real origin of the screaming angels moniker is an interesting one. In that twilight hours before John arrived home from his long commute to be greeted by an irate Kevin, I considered it time to revisit my memories of the original screaming angels. Such musing is best done in the quiet of solitude and especially before the shouting match soon to come when Kevin dramatically presented his case.

Kevin was only four years old the year he went into a coma. He remained in a coma for six weeks and, I had to smile sitting there in my kitchen sunbeam, they were perhaps the most bizarre six weeks of my life.
He fell from a tree, this son of mine whose pockets were always full of snakes and snails and puppy dog's tails. He had always been all boy, rough and tumble, scraping and running and injuring himself in all manner. The fall from the tree was his undoing.
I'd left him in the care of my younger sister. She was almost twenty at the time, old enough I would have thought, to mind a four year old for the two hours I required to run to the MVA and renew my driver's license. And she was out in the yard with Kevin when he fell from the tall pine tree he insisted to climb to impress his Aunt. Linda thought he was just so cute and talented, my, she often told me, to be climbing trees so effortlessly at such a young age. Only the tree in question grew alongside our house and towered over the driveway; the asphalt and very hard driveway.
Kevin was unconscious as soon as his head the hard surface and remained that way for almost six weeks. Almost, I pondered, except for that one strange moment of lucidity and awareness that occurred on the fifth day after his accident.



"He has a concussion, Mrs. Connoway. It doesn't appear to be life-threatening but he hasn't regained consciousness yet."
The young doctor was speaking to me and John and the terrified Aunt Linda. We all clung together in the emergency room visitor area, waiting for news yet scared of the news.
"Why is he still unconscious?" John said, to my relief. For myself, my heart was racing and continued to race even during the four hour wait before the young doctor gave us even this bit of information. It was the question I most wanted to ask if I could have gotten words past my dry lips.
"The brain is swollen, Mr. Connoway. Eventually the swelling will go down and we're sure he'll regain consciousness with no after effects. We've done a CT scan and show no skull fracture. But bumps to the head will cause the brain to swell and that young fellow took a pretty hard hit. We're going to admit him, of course. We need to watch that swelling that it doesn't become a problem. Then we wouldn't want to let him go until he is awake and alert and can recognize his mommy and daddy."
This disclosure bought more sobs from Linda and I. The poor little guy, all alone in this big hospital. Suppose he wakes up and is terrified because he didn't know where he was?
"You can sleep right by his side, Mrs. Connoway. The pediatric ward has special accommodations for this. Besides we want someone he knows to be by his side at all times. It's best if you talk to him as if he were fully aware. Comas are strange things...."
Before the doctor could finish this thought, Linda, I and now John launched into a harmony of sobs that caused the doctor to recruit some help with this mob of emotional humans.
I did stay with Kevin the whole time he was in the hospital and in, what I could dare to call after five days, a coma.

The word coma is such a chilling word. I considered it synonymous with death. But to describe someone as remaining unconscious after 24 hours of this sleep-like state was a bit foolish. After a full daily cycle, an unconscious person was in a coma, pure and simple. And after three days that Kevin didn't become conscious, I became determined to drag him, kicking and screaming if necessary, out of that coma.
I played his favorite records. I read him his favorite books. I tuned the TV to his favorite cartoons. And the medical personnel did, indeed, tell me this was the right course of action.
But Kevin would not wake up.
On the fifth day into Kevin's coma, he did regain consciousness, but only for a few minutes and only to leave me with two strange clues that made the next five weeks a hysterical and horrible nightmare.
It was 7:00 am and I awoke to my usual stiff back after my night in the chair-bed provided for parents to stay with their sick children.
I made my usual morning trip, first to the bathroom, than up to the hospital's cafeteria for some coffee. When I returned to Kevin's room, I saw that his eyes were open.
I flew across the room, juggling hot coffee, morning newspaper and a danish.
"Kevin! Kevin! This is mommy! Are you all right Kevin? Does anything hurt?"
Kevin's eyes stared straight ahead. He appeared not to recognize me at all.
"Angels," Kevin said in his four year old voice, complete with lisp.
I had by now disentangled myself from the coffee, purse straps and other morning accoutrements. I rang the bell to call a nurse, then leaned over the bed to speak to my newly conscious son.
"Angels? Honey, did you see angels? Where did you see angels?"
At the time, I was so happy to see his eyes and hear his voice, that I made no connection to heaven and angels and the ominousness of all this.
Kevin shook his head affirmative. The action was almost as if slow motion, as if the movement sucked all of his strength. In fact, I watched his eyes droop heavily as if about to close again. This re-fueled my panic.

"Kevin, where did you see angels? What did the angels say? Do you want Mommy to get you more angels?"
He opened his eyes again, with apparent great effort. My God, I thought, I'm losing him again.
"What did the angels say, Kevin?"
I'm not sure why I kept asking Kevin what the angels said, except I had this crazy idea in my head that maybe the angels were calling him home or something. "Follow the light," or some such. In my hysteria, fear and confusion, I just wanted my four year old to tell me what the angels were telling him. I wanted to warn him not to follow the angels, to stay here with Mommy.
"Screaming, Mommy. The angels were screaming. Please bring back the angels, Mommy. I liked the angels."
These were the last words my son said for the next five weeks.

The doctors were greatly heartened by the fact that Kevin regained consciousness and were certain that it was a matter of time until he fully regained it forever. For after Kevin told me about the screaming angels, he lapsed back into a coma.
For almost a week Kevin was subjected to every neurological and radiological test known to medicine. A pediatric neuro-surgeon from St. Jude's children's hospital was called in for a consultation. Cat scans were made and regarded by the medical professionals.
"We can see no reason why your son doesn't regain consciousness, Mr. and Mrs. Connoway. The best in the business can find nothing neurologically wrong with him. We detect no swelling in his brain. Our best assumption is that he bruised some part of his brain that will just have to heal. Meanwhile, I think it best you continue to talk to him and occupy his unconscious mind with familiar things. It's probably the best way to bring him around once that bruise heals."
John and I clung to each other as Kevin's pediatrician told us all this, which basically told us nothing.

"Meanwhile, we're going to be moving Kevin up on the neurological ward until he regains consciousness. They have better access to the cat scans and know far more about brain injuries than we do here on the pediatric ward. Once he regains consciousness we'll bring him back down to peds for a couple days of observation."
My heart broke as they wheeled my unconscious son out of his bright room with its walls full of cartoon Micky Mouses and Donald Ducks.
I spent the better part of the next week reading the unconscious Kevin his favorite stories, telling him about the goings on in our household, and reminding him that Skipper, our Scottish terrier, missed him terribly.
By the end of this second week, I was exhausted and frustrated. I began to ponder the significance of the screaming angels.
"Well there's a baseball team called the Angels," my husband said in the first of many brainstorming sessions to ascertain what Kevin might have seen and just how we could make him see it again. Assuming this brought him to consciousness to begin with, which we did not know for sure. We did know that he was still unconscious. I was convinced that the screaming angels were the key to bringing him back to reality. Only I didn't know what the hell the screaming angels were.
"Maybe he was listening to a baseball game on TV and heard the screaming fans. Maybe he heard the announcer call the team the angels."
I wrote all this down.
"I think there was some sort of kid's movie called the screaming angels...by Walt Disney or something like that. Maybe one of the kids on the peds ward was playing a tape of it."
This from my Uncle Marvin, also one of the family cabal called to help with the mystery.
"It seems to me that one of Kevin's favorite coloring books has a picture of angels in it. In the picture, the angels are playing trumpets. Maybe he thought the trumpets were a kind of screaming."
My mother and Kevin's grandmother offered this thought.
I kept writing.

"Isn't there a TV show on, something about angels? Stars that guy used to be in Bonanza?"
I noted this, my father's observation.
"Christmas songs!" I threw down my pen and shouted. "Maybe he heard Christmas songs...'Angels We Have Heard on High'...'Hark the Herald Angels Sing'...Christmas is only six weeks away. Could have heard it on the radio from the nurse's station."
I made a note of my own genius.

"Miss Carol, we have angels in our classroom," Sandy Burke tugged at my sweater and whispered in my ear. Sandy was Kevin's friend who also happened to live next store. She was better than two years older than Kevin and was thus familiar with classrooms unknown as yet to Kevin.
"Honey," I whispered back, appreciating her offering especially in view that she was specifically recruited for her child's perspective, "Kevin doesn't go to school. He wouldn't have seen an angel in your classroom."
Sandy tugged again, and I leaned down to hear her shy whisper.
"He could have seen the picture on my book."
"What book, Sandy? Go home and bring the book with the angel picture back."
The brainstorming group discussed and tossed about other angel options while we waited on Sandy. Sure enough she returned with her catechism and right on the front was a picture of a little girl followed by a huge angel.
"This is a guardian angel," Sandy whispered to me. Sandy attended a Catholic school so the catechism made sense. What didn't make sense was whether Kevin had ever seen this book. But Sandy said that he had seen it many times; that many days she stopped by after school and before going into her house. She had her books along and Kevin liked to look at them.
"Okay...here's what we have," I said, and scanned my list.
"A Disney movie about angels, angels with trumpets, California Angels, a Michael Landon angel TV show, Christmas songs about angels, and a great big picture of an angel on the front of Sandy's catechism."

"Only one of those I could think of as screaming is the baseball team," Uncle Marvin pointed out. We launched into a fifteen minute free for all debating a large guardian angel translated as screaming, the tv show turned up VERY loud, Christmas songs in late October much less screaming, and the Disney movie that was really "The Bad News Bears" because Uncle Marvin was confused.
"Whatever it takes, I'm going to find some facsimile of screaming angels and present them to Kevin until he wakes up from this coma!"
I ended the family argument with this proclamation and stomped from the room.

The next five weeks were horrible, disappointing, frustrating and fruitless. Twice I was almost thrown in jail and once I was banned from the hospital for twenty-four hours.
The neurology ward in a hospital is a somber place. Kevin was in what they called a constant care unit, a gloomy room shared by three other patients who were either in a coma or in some state of mental disorientation. We didn't help matters with our endless procession of angels.
It was the eight foot angel that caused the first incident. I had decided to get this possibility out of the way immediately because I was certain Kevin would not interpret Sandy's picture of a guardian angel as "screaming angels". And I warned Uncle Marvin to stay in the bathroom until I told him it was okay to come out, but no...he has to come right into the room, wobbling on those stilts and wearing that ridiculous ratty sheet and aluminum foil halo. The idea was that he would stand over Kevin's bed as the large guardian angel stood over the child on Sandy's catechism. Only Uncle Marvin falls off the stilts first thing and one of Kevin's roommates was not yet fully asleep and his mind was not working right to begin with.

The patient runs screaming to the nurse's station that a ghost is in the room and trying to kill him. I'm shoving stilts and sheets under Kevin's bed before the ladies in white descended en masse to catch me in the middle of my little play. The medical personnel, it turned out, did not place much faith in my screaming angel scenario and hence, discouraged attempts to blare Christmas music or sneak Michael Landon onto the ward. And I thought I had everything hidden when a cavalcade of nurses marched into the room, collective hands on hips and ready to rip off the heads of those who caused this disturbance. Uncle Marvin and I stood nervously by Kevin's bed, stiltless and normally attired, and tried to pretend ignorance to the patient's ghostly rants. The nurses only guffawed at our pathetic lies until my eyes followed theirs in the direction of Uncle Marvin's head. Sure enough, he still had his foil halo firmly attached to his skull, even as he explained his just recent arrival to the hospital directly from his job.
We really did get Michael Landon to come and visit Kevin. He wasn't dead then. And the nurses couldn't do anything about this because Kevin was allowed two visitors and there was nothing saying one of them couldn't be a guy who plays an angel on television.
When that didn't work, John quizzed all of his friends for forgotten tapes of California angel baseball games. He especially requested tapes where the crowd is really screaming. John finally obtained such a tape, and we played it over and over for the better part of 24 hours until the same patient that saw the ghost now told the nurse he was Rod Carew and had to leave for batting practice.
When we brought in the angels with the trumpets it was the first time I was threatened with jail and also the time that the hospital administrator banned me from the hospital. I had no idea they could even do such a thing.
By this time, John was getting concerned with my vehemence not to mention my disruption of the neurological ward. He refused to wear his angel outfit much less play any trumpet.

I really planned things this time, waiting until Kevin's unbalanced roommate was sound asleep and having Uncle Marvin to distract the nurses just enough for me to sneak in with the angels and blare quickly on our trumpets. Ideally we should have blared those trumpets for a few hours or better, but I knew I'd have to settle for one quick burst. I figured it might be enough to call Kevin back from wherever the hell he was.
Only Uncle Marvin took a liking to one nurse and forgot to do his job in his flirting. Me, my mother and my father, barely had time to sneak into the room in our angel attire and get one toot off on the trumpets before we were physically booted out by hospital security.
It really was getting close to Christmas when I resorted to the Christmas songs. This was the second time I was almost thrown in jail but Linda did some quick thinking and promised to only play the music through earphones in Kevin's ears. Which was a pretty good idea and I wish Linda had thought of it sooner because by this point I was getting a bit unraveled. Linda, God love her irresponsible self that let my son climb high trees, wasn't part of all my angel hysteria because she was away at college. She was home for Christmas vacation, in fact, when I asked her to tape as many angel Christmas songs as she could. She'd asked what she could do to help and this was my request.
When she showed up for her visit, I grabbed the tape and proceeded to play it loudly by Kevin's bedside before any sort of explanation. It was a spur of the moment type of thing, as the nurses were having their own Christmas party and when Linda phoned me before riding over to the hospital, I asked her to get here quick and bring the angel tape.
The nurses were not fooled. They ran into Kevin's room as if a white-clad army, yanked the tape-player out of my hand and ejected that tape clear across the room. It was through Linda's intercession and compromise of the ear plugs that I managed to stay out of jail. That and the nurse army didn't want to jail a woman with a son in a coma and so close to Christmas.
"What's the deal with the Christmas songs?" Linda asked, when we finally disentangled from the mad nurses and left to the hospital cafeteria for some coffee.
"I wrote you that Kevin awoke once from his coma, didn't I?"

"Yes. But you didn't write anything about angels."
I held my coffee cup in the air. Maybe I didn't mention anything about angels in my letters to Linda. Then I'd only written about two letters to her, such was my dedication to the angel cause.
I explained about the screaming angels then, finally relaxed enough to regale with the tales of trying to wake Kevin from his coma. I was stopped in the midst of the stories by Linda's furrowed brow.
After several moments of silence I asked, "What?"
"He calls the birds angels," Linda said. I remember that day, we were both in the yard. I showed him the robins and some chickadees. You really should teach that child more about nature," Linda said pointedly and I wanted to slap her. If her idea of teaching a child about nature is allowing them to climb up a tall spindly-limbed pine tree, then no thanks. But I held my tongue to concentrate on my rushing thoughts about bird angels.
"Why call the birds angels?"
"Kevin made it up. He asked if angels had wings and I said they did. Then he asked me if the birds were angels and I said no. But he insisted that if they have wings they must be angels."
I prompted Linda for more, but she had no more than this anecdote. She said that Kevin went off to play or something and he had no more to say about the bird-angels.
We sat quiet and sipped our coffees, pondering birds with wings and a four year old's concept of angels.
"I don't get the screaming thing," I finally said. "Are there any birds that scream?"
Linda furrowed that brow again, Miss nature lover.
She snapped her fingers. "Blue Jays! Blue Jays scream! In fact, there was a Blue Jay in that pine tree and it screamed at him when he tried to climb it. I remember he laughed and called it a screaming angel."

Quick as a flash and with no concern about the white Mafia, I ran up those steps. First I tracked down one nurse, than a doctor, than anyone who was even a hospital employee.
"The Blue Jays are the screaming angels!" I shouted to all, who responded only with a look of incomprehension.
I tore into Kevin's room, pulled out the ear plugs with the Christmas songs and asked the nurse's assistant changing his bed where I could find a tape of Blue Jay screams. Perhaps the hospital gift shop?
Before the young girl could begin to ponder the strange question, Linda tore into the room after me.
"Carol, Carol...calm down! Look, it's still daylight out there," and then she went over to the window to check this fact.
"This place is surrounded by woods. There's got to be plenty of Blue Jays around and while I bet you can't find a tape of Blue Jay screams in the hospital gift shop, I bet we can get a bag of peanuts. If we can get him moved to a lower level, I bet I could entice some REAL Blue Jays to give us some screams."
It was then I remembered Kevin's old room in the pediatrics' ward. His bed was directly next to a window and yes, it faced a copse of trees. This must have been the source of his "angels' screams."
I realize I was a woman possessed and there was no proof that the angel screams would jolt Kevin out of that coma. All the medical personnel had told me as much. But I was so convinced that I formed a plan.
I told Linda to go find some peanuts and get some Blue Jays around room 203 in the pediatric ward. In fifteen minutes, I told her, I, and Kevin, would be in that room, directly next to that window. There'd better be Blue Jays there, I said, or I'll never forgive her for my son's injury.
Kevin did emerge from his coma that night. And it was after he listened to Blue Jay screams, after I absconded with a white coat and pushed Kevin out of that room down to the elevator as if I had every right to do so. The nurses were by now knee deep in their Christmas party and so was the rest of the hospital judging by how easily I did the deed.

Linda managed to climb to the window of Kevin's old room by scaling ancient brick and window frames. She placed the peanuts directly on the sill and just as soon as I rolled Kevin's bed over to the window, the Blue Jays were already screaming in and snatching peanuts.
It took almost a half an hour for any medical personnel to find out I'd physically abducted Kevin, bed and all. The two young children in Kevin's old room thought it a great game so they didn't tell.
By the time hospital security stormed the room and threatened me with jail once again, I was too driven to care.
"Move this bed and I'll slash my wrists," I shouted, holding a Bic razor threateningly above my arm. "I only want him to hear the Blue Jays for a bit, then you can take him back to his room."
The hospital guards, nurses and curiosity seekers held back, pondering this woman and the window sill full of Blue Jays. Not to mention the woman outside the window hanging by the ledge.
When this didn't snap Kevin out of his coma, I "surrendered". An orderly came to roll Kevin's bed back to the neurology ward. I held my hands out for the handcuffs I thought sure to come.
"Mom," I thought I heard. Then again, louder, "Mommy?"
There was then tears of happiness, hugs and a million questions. Even the nurses forgot their anger at my trickery and gathered around Kevin to finally see his eyes.
Kevin came home the following day, such was the turnabout in his condition. The doctors had no explanation other than the bruise on his brain had finally healed.

I heard the slamming of the car door and was snapped from my memories. John was home. I needed to prepare him for the argument soon to come. Kevin heard it too and was in the kitchen, ready for the debate.
I played with Kevin's baseball cap, twirling it in my hand and smiling at the Blue Jay logo.

"Kevin," I said quickly, wanting to say this before his father came in, "I've changed my mind. Your band can play at the school dance."
And that was when the band first sang their hit song "Devilish Angel", a tune Kevin and the drummer co-wrote as a lark and played only because they needed more songs with the word "angel". The song really took off by word of mouth, then via local radio stations. Finally the song was properly recorded and hit the national airwaves.
In my reminisces, I pondered that Kevin's perseverance in the face of all odds might well be hereditary. I decided that since he came by it naturally, I may as well let his band play at the dance.
The rest, as they say, is history.
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That's the story, Harry. I love that logo of a screaming Blue Jay.
~~~~~~~~~~
More Smashing Fiction HERE