New threads...

New threads...

Emergency medicine, as a volunteer service #EMS

Emergency medicine, as a volunteer service #EMS

Adult cough syrup: Apple cider (apple a day...) Maker's Mark Bourbon (alcohol is antiseptic) Lemon juice (anti-inflammatory) Honey (antibacterial)

Adult cough syrup: Apple cider (apple a day...) Maker's Mark Bourbon (alcohol is antiseptic) Lemon juice (anti-inflammatory) Honey (antibacterial)

Government Schools and Santa Letters...

The No. 1 Rule for dealing with media:  Never, ever argue with people who buy ink by the barrel.

Which brings us to The Enterprise-Tocsin of Indianola, Mississippi, and Lockard Elementary School in the same town, and the annual tradition of printing the letters of school children to Santa.

In today's edition (December 19, 2013), the year's collection of letters was printed along with the note you see above.

Santa Letters are fun because of the spelling and grammar used.  They reflect an innocence that is quickly being lost.  They represent the dreams and wishes of young children.  Santa Letters aren't intended to represent a school, or the school's academic standing (or lack thereof?). 

So, why were these Santa letters edited by the school?  Was a statement being made by editing these letters?  Who directed the editing?  What was the purpose for doing this?

Are school administrators trying to "put on airs" that the first- and second-grade students don't make spelling and grammatical errors in their writing? 

Is this a subliminal way of exercising government censorship over the children's writing?  Isn't that just what it is?  A public entity altered the printed word of civilians prior to release for publication.

What is going on here?

My Pipe...

Whene’re I take my pipe and stuff it
And smoke to pass the time away,
My thoughts as I sit there and puff it,
Dwell on a picture sad and grey:
It teaches me that very like
Am I myself unto my pipe.
Like me, this pipe so fragrant burning
Is made of naught but earth and clay;
To earth I too shall be returning.
It falls and, ere I’d think to say,
It breaks in two before my eyes;
In store for me a like fate lies.
No stain the pipe’s hue yet doth darken;
It remains white. Thus do I know
That when to death’s call I must harken
My body too, all pale will grow
To black beneath the sod ’twill turn.
Or when the pipe is fairly glowing,
Behold then, instantaniously,
The smoke off into thin air going,
Till naught but ash is left to see.
Man’s frame likewise away will burn
And unto dust his body turn.
How oft it happens when one’s smoking:
The stopper’s missing from the shelf,
And one goes with one’s finger poking
Into the bowl and burns oneself.
If in the pipe such pain doth dwell,
How hot must be the pains of Hell.
Thus o’er my pipe, in contemplation
Of such things, I can constantly
Indulge in fruitful meditation
And so, puffing contentedly,
On land, on sea, at home, abroad,
I smoke my pipe and worship God.

Johann Sebastian Bach

Lipitor, anyone?

Lipitor, anyone?

Life Lessons from EMS: Note to my Son

If, as a 30-something year-old, you find yourself in the company of a carload of women, who beat you up and dump you on the highway in the middle of a moonless night, DO NOT call your daddy asking for a ride after the EMTs show up.  Surrender your Man-Card to the EMTs and start walking.  Otherwise, it just makes you look weak to the medics.

That is all, carry on.

Disclaimer: Any apparent similarity to any real, perceived, or theoretical personis purely coincidental and the story outlined above may or may not have any validity or association with any real event.