blood pressure - exercise - and other potpourri (or pot pouring)

 potpourri   - I always thought it was pot pourri with the space.  Spell check disagrees.  I don't doubt.  Some Chinese AI guy might lop off my head.

-------- blood pressure -------------

I have asked this questions over and over.  I have never gotten a straight answer - just some casual "don't worry about it;  you're fine" answer.  I really wanted to know.  I'd bet few of my readers (wherever and whenever and whoever they are) have rarely heard an answer worthy of an Academy award.   Here it is.

I read the Temple paper in the morning.  I'm pretty thorough usually.  I end by reading the funnies and doing the sudoko.  It is a process.  Then, the papers are piled in a basket for my #2 daughter who takes them monthly to line the cages of her rabbits.  A great "final" solution.

In an article this morning by Lauran Neergaard, I read about a guy who has blood pressure problems.  They tell me:  "don't worry about it;  you're fine."  So, I suppose I am.  I can usually count on a little less than 120 over 80   (120/80).  Her article actually briefly explained the numbers.  Have you ever heard an explanation?  I am going to quote her now:

"Two numbers describe blood pressure.  The top, "systolic" pressure is the force blood puts on the walls of arteries as its pumped out of the heart.  The bottom "diastolic" number measures that same pressure but between heartbeats."   How about that?  Was that so hard to explain?  Nobody has even tried to do that for me.  I've asked.  But, let's continue:

"Normal is less than 120 over 80.  Blood pressure naturally fluctuates throughout the day, higher when you're physically active or stressed.  but when it stays high -- consistently 130 over 80 or higher, according to most recent guidelines -- it stiffens arteries and makes the heart work harder."  So there you go.  Now, I know.  It makes no difference in what I do; but, now I know.  I bet I could have found this on google.  

The article continues to explain how to take blood pressure and so forth - describing when medicine is appropriate.    "Medicine is a must once hypertension reaches 140/90."   See - I betcha regular ole doctors and nurses never thought about creating a one page sheet with this type of info on it.  It should be on light blue paper - save yellow paper for urinary explanations.  I am saving this article in my file of 'never re-read' articles that I've been saving for decades in a small box under the bed.  

On the same page ------- exercise---------

of the Temple paper was a too long article about how to exercise when you get old (me) to help you strengthen  you sense of good balance.  Several simple exercises  Ask me in the comment section and I'll quote from that article.   Moving on.

--------------

My wife has a new Indian name since she broke her pinky finger:  Princess Crooked Paw.

I was driving to Lubbock one time.  After passing Cisco ( a lovely squirrely town ) I noticed the Interstate had a mile maker:   316   From that day forwarded (not being the most religious person in my family) I envisioned some local church sneaking out and attaching the word  JOHN to that marker.  It would read  JOHN 316.  A small piece of wood painted with holes drilled - then bolted to the top of the marker. Do it in the middle of the night when no Hwy Patrol will arrest you.  Think how many 316 mile markers there are in the Continental USA.  Sure, some stupid kid will get killed in the traffic.  Interstates are not the safest places to walk.    Perhaps there is another Bible quote Deuter../.Duteromi/ Duetterom ... never mind - go to the Book of Mark - that's easier to spell.

Last thing:   SWMBO    I had an Uncle Bob (Robert Lee Metz).  One of his common comments was  SWMBO.  This is how he talked about his wife Ruth.    She Who Must Be Obeyed.   Thought that was funny.  My wife now has a T-shirt with that imprinted.  More on Uncle Bob later.

mtz

ramble

 I did not have a storied career in education.  My name is not up on any building or football field.  Alumni groups do not call and beg me to attend their 25th graduation festivals.  Nobody really remembers me in the band business unless I taught them.  Even at that, most have moved on to have a life without me.  And, that is the way it should be.  Anyone still obsessed with his high school band director after 25 plus years must be a bit deranged.

I know when I left high school, I never went back to visit with my h.s. band director - or choir director for that matter.   I did sing in the choir at my choir (Mr. Benningfield) director's funeral.  All of Metze boys just happened to be in town, so we joined the Methodist choir for that occasion.  It was nice I suppose.  My mother sure did like it; but, she could be easy to please when it came to her 4 boys.

There were a few things that were certainly fun & perhaps noteworthy (to coin a phrase by a musician).  I cannot remember the year or other names or much detail ... and I believe I've mentioned this one before.  I was hired to play trumpet at a dance.  I think it was in Hobbs, NM - but it may have been in Clovis.  If Hobbs had a military base in the early 60's, that was it.  It was a big dance band - sightread the songs - fun - good Lubbock musicians throughout the band.  The driver had one of those giant Cadillacs from the 60s with bench seats.

I rode in the front in the middle - happens when you are one of the youngest.  I think brother Jim played trombone that night.  The driver was a big guy.  I cannot remember his name.  Played bass fiddle.  He was very well know in the Lubbock jazz music scene.  I think he carried his bass in the trunk of that massive Cad.  I know, we use to carry a bass fiddle in the trunk of my 1963 Pontiac.  Big Trunks.  

I was quite impressed with the Cadillac.  Most of all was it's automatic headlight dimmer -- 2 lane roads (another reason to think it was Hobbs) - as we met a car on those lonely nighttime backroads of the Texas Panhandle, the car would automatically dim it's headlights.   I was so jealous that my 56 Chevy didn't have that.

Anyway, the job was a 3 or 4 hour gig.  It was for a military base dance - probably officer's club.  I do feel certain it wasn't the local VFW hall.   We'd play about 50-60 minutes or so; then, we'd take a break.   Out of nowhere came these guys carrying harmonicas - all kinds of harmonicas.  They were THE HARMONICATS.  I had seen them on the Ed Sullivan show several times.  They were a fun group.  I'd have to say that our "breaks" that night were more fun than most.  That's all I can remember about the night.  You can look the Harmonicats up online.  They sold over a million copies of "Peg of my Heart."   I always say that I played backup for the Harmonicats.  That wasn't really true.  Still, that is what I said.

----

FYI - JUST asked Google who was the short guy  who played with the Harmonicats.  Turns out I was a bit wrong.  Johnny Puleo (look him up).  Dwarf.  Look him up and learn a bit of history about harmonica groups of the 50s and 60s.  He also appeared in the 1956 movie Trapeze.  I still intend to say I played backup for the Harmonicats.  When you are 84, you can make up all sorts of things.

----

Just like when I was in Texas Tech and played in the orchestra, we played back up for Captain Kangaroo one concert.  He never knew I was there.  Still - it was fun.  There was the time the Four Freshmen came to Tech for a concert.  Afterwards - we "special" people got to go back stage and watch as the Freshmen did a little joint concert back stage with 4 guys from the Tech choir department.  That was fun to share.

But, probably one of the most fun things I got to do ------- after I graduated and began teaching, I got a call from my old trumpet teacher, Richard Tolley.  He needed me to come play2nd trumpet with the band for the Barnum & Bailey circus.  Yes, for 3 - 4 performances, I sat on the floor and sightread marches and waltzes while the Barnum & Bailey Circus did it's performance.  I remember being a bit worried at the time because I did not have a musician's union card.  But, nobody else seemed to mind.  Playing for a real circus.   Nobody asked me to quit my real job and join the circus.  Going to clown college was a bit of a stretch for me.

There were probably other things.  They'll come to mind later.  The birth of my 3 children ranks right  up there - but, y'know, that really is a different thing.

see ya, mtz

I've still got it

 I'm old.  I have wrinkles where muscles should be.  Black spots and other uglies have taken over my seeable skin.  These spots are not dangerous; just ugly.  I am a male.  All males think (or hope to believe) they are God's gift to the other gender - yes, just for the record, there are only 2 genders.  I am one; girls are the other.  

But since I turned "old," only my wife thinks I'm cute.  And, I'm not sure about that.  It wouldn't matter how many my photos I would display of my younger years, I'm still not a beauty...even then.

--------------

My wife was given a gift card to Dairy Queen at Christmas.  Nice.  Monday, we drove south to the town of Jerrell which is the closest DQ to Salado.  Christine (dotter) drove up from Georgetown and met us for the festival.  Good stuff was consumed.

Sitting in a corner booth to my left was a mama, daddy, son, and daughter.  I think the dot was probably about 2 to 3.  Who knows.  Blond.  I just happened to glance in that direction and she peeked around her daddy's head, rolled her eyes, and flashed me a beautiful smile.  I was indeed captivated.  How do you spell mischeavous ?   spell check.  "mischievous"   She had a mischievous smile - a come hither glance - in her purple outfit she was something.    

YessireeBob, I still have it at 84 yrs.  I kept glancing over.  She couldn't keep her eyes off me.

The kicker:

As we left I walked over to the table and said to the mother, "Your daughter has been flirting with me."

She laughed and explained, "She is a He."

YessireeBob, I still have it.

m

bang up time

In my previous post - I thought the title about "bile" would attract the weird reader.  Apparently I was wrong.  In the past, my off color titles have shown to have more readers.  I wonder why that is?  

Now this post is not off color or even a hint of it - we'll call this a warning for those who don't want to waste time unless there is some naughty meat available.  Warning.  Warning.  Spoiler Alert.

Might I point out that we have arrived in the year 2025.  In this year I will turn 85.  I don't care what you say; that is getting old.  You may have heard that old people don't feel old in the brain dept.  It's the arms and limbs and back and other physical attributes (not a good word here) that feel off kilter.  About this age you can start saying anything you like and it will be treated kindly.  Old gaffer - talk bad - okay though - he's older than dirt - let's laugh at his mutterings.

I live in a great neighborhood.  In spite of having the title Amity attached, it's not bad.  Nobody really bothers you here.  You can have a big ole shed out back - about any size - nobody cares.  Have 2 or 3 sheds, it's okay.  Don't get the yard mowed weekly, nobody pushes you.  I have weeds.  Boy do I have weeds.  I'm doing what I can to get rid of them  No letters in the mail about weed growth.  [who can afford to hire a company to do weed control?  not a retired teacher, that's for sure.]   

On legal days, we can shoot off fireworks with nary a complaint.  Sure, some are issuing request to limit your noise because of dogs and post-war disorders.  Loud noises seem to affect those two groups more than others.  I can tell you that we have a 3rd group.  It (also) affects little old 84 year old wives that want to go to sleep about 10 p.m.  Consequently, this affects little old 84 year old husbands who want to keep peace with the spouse.

Our neighbors spend WAY too much money on pretty, loud fireworks.  For cheap people like me, they are fun to watch (free).  On every appropriate holiday, the big fireworks start just after dark and continue liberally until after midnight...or as I like to say "Midnight:30."  It is just not one neighbor; it is MANY neighbors.  The people behind us put on quite a show.  Again, it is fun to watch...big ole honking displays.  Neighbors enjoying the evening...have another hot dog and beer..."Hey, Ethel, watch this one!"

Knowing this was in the works for New Years eve, I was able to get my little Sadie out early to do her duty. Then, night began to fall.  All you-know-what broke loose.  Our dogs hid out in certain places - usually close to one of us.  Night fell about 7:30 or so.   The displays never let up.  The noise seemed to echo off the houses and the sheds.  My wife sat up in bed messing with her phone past midnight.  

At midnight:45 I was able to get Sadie out to "Flush" her system.  Even then we (she & I) heard 2 booms.  Sadie wasn't sure she was up for this adventure.  Job finished we went straight to bed.  The wife had the light out and was muttering something about spraying people with a water cannon.  

Daughter Christine's dogs never left her side.  About 2:45 I had to get up for my Necessary.  I asked Sadie if she needed to go out.  Popped right up - dogs forget and forgive easier than humans.  And, Yes, at 2:45, in the middle of her full squat, someone nearby set off a big Boom!   2:45!!! 

Cheeeeee!  I VOWED TO DRIVE THE NEIGHBORHOOD AT 7 IN THE MORN BLASTING OPERA FROM MY CAR SPEAKERS!!!!

👅👹😈😡💩💥😍   REVENGE!!

Oops, slept till 9:30 - forgot.  I hope y'all had a big helping of nice black-eye peas and ham.  Corn bread would have been nice too.

m

bile what?

 This is a bit "not me."  Short & sweet.

So, I did my duty on the throne on Monday.  Everything moved right along.  As I cleaned up, I noticed my product  (poop for those who are lost) was green.  Green.  Am I sick?  Why is it green?

Any guesses before I go on?

===========

The 30th was my daughter's 60th birthday.  We had an early family party - cake / presents etc. The party was on Sunday before my visiting family left to drive home in Lubbock & Waxahachie.  It was such a hurried up event, that my daughter even made her own cake - even though I did put candles on it.

Now my daughter had a vision:  Why should a red velvet cake be red.  WELLSIR, it is because you put red cake coloring in it.  But do you have to use red?  Of course not.  The choice is yours.  My dot decided to use Blue cake coloring.  Thus, we had a Blue Velvet Cake with white icing.  It was really pretty.  

I've entered a new era of my diabetes.  At 84, I am going to have small slices of things like birthday cake.  I'm hoping that I am not killing myself.  But, a small slice of blue velvet - if it doesn't cause a sugar problem, maybe it won't hurt.   The family, everyone, had blue cake and a great time.

Have you figured out the answer to my question yet?  

The daughter explains to me that your "bile" is yellow.  Look up bile if you don't know.   That yellow bile mixed with blue cake coloring    =   yes green poop.

She figures we are having Green Velvet Cake for St. Patrick's Day.

That's all for now - more maybe tomorrow - I have been too long away from this missive.

mtz

   

Hey Cupcake!

 quickie:

son-in-law Tom has a birthday today.  Born in 1976, you figure the age.

Today in honor, I made cupcakes - chocolate with chocolate icing, a jar of sprinkles is standing by.

Here is the bit.  At 84, today marks the first day in my entire life that I made cupcakes.  Never before.  You'd think that I would have done it earlier.  But, no.  My young life, we never had cupcakes.  We might have a cake - big cake -  or pie - but we just didn't eat / have cupcakes.

So the stone is over.  There are other things I have never done.  Stay tuned,

good-bye and  Happy Thanksgiving

m

 

busy buzy bizzy bucees

Absolutely NOTHING to do with bucees - just thought it fit the title.

This has been a busy couple of weeks.  Frankly, I was much busier when I was teaching.  Every day and minute had a plan and no rest for the wicked.  I'd go home in the evening and still have book work to do - much of which I should have done at school.  But, watching TV at night and keeping the hands occupied was what I did.  Back to now.

---------

As you may remember in past blugs/blogs my wife was mopping the floor when her feet slid out from under her.  She landed on her side on top of her RIGHT hand.  It broke her pinkie finger.  Now, you might think that the pinkie finger is the best one to break .  You might think that.  I have a different opinion.  Ya see.  (to take a song lyric)  It DON'T matter which one you break.  You are down and out.  Pinkie, Ring, Naughty, Pointer, or the Thumb.  Doesn't matter.  Left or right hand, now that matters.

If you are right handed, you must do everything with the left hand now.

If you are left handed, you must do everything with the right hand now.

It matters.  Try picking your nose with the wrong hand.  Or cutting meat or dishing out potatoes.  Making an obscene gesture doesn't seem to be affected.  Tie your dominant hand to your side for a day.  You'll see.

Broken finger selection is not an option.  When one finger is down, it bothers all the others.  Fingers are connected.  I used to tell my band students, God messed up when he made the ring finger.  It won't work as good as the first two.

Here is the process we journeyed through:  Got her up off the floor.  Saw the pinkie all bent around. Knew we were going to a doctor.  Put the mop away.  Baylor Scott & White has a clinic about  a mile from here, give or take a mile.  Got on the phone to see if she can come there or should we go to emergency room in Temple.  Didn't work.  BS&W has this plan.  You call their number - turns out to be a "main" number - they do all the scheduling for all of their facilities and doctors.  

You CAN'T talk to the local number.  No Way.  Centralize is the wave of the future.  Of course, even that doesn't work immediately.  You have to provide all information:  name, address, date-of-birth, insurance, name of 1st born, if you feel safe at home, what color shirt did you wear to the ball, oh oh oh the list goes on.  I said to the nice lady, "Never-mind, we'll just go down there and walk in."

We did.  

The clinic greeted us nicely and was concerned about the finger.  I was told to wait while the office staff could determine if someone there could work on the finger.  We waited.  There was.  That will be $5.  We went into room.  The provider was a nice young lady - P.A. - not doctor.  she wrapped it up and put a funny brace on it.  Then, it was determined we should move up the medical ladder to one with more specialized knowledge.  Front desk checked the computer.  We had a choice:  wait for 2 1/2 weeks to see someone in Temple  OR  go tomorrow to Killeen.  Wonder which we chose?

Next day, we saw a nice guy in Killeen  - it seems he is a P.A. also - but, he has had experience in this area  to a degree. A bit alarmed he was.  He got on the computer and scheduled us into Temple.  He used a word- can't remember - big long word - expedite.  That's it.  Our appointment was Expedited.  Within a couple of days, Temple Raney Bone and Whatever group saw her.  Learned that her finger splint should never have been used.  They used a device similar to the Chinese torture toy from our years past - it stretched her finger out till xray saw the bone snap into place.  The medical staff was excited and hooped it up just a bit.   A beautiful hand/arm cast was created - in red by choice - we were to come back in 3 weeks to have the cast removed.

Dealing with a spouse who is wearing a cast - red or any color - is not a joy.  Still the right hand is disabled.  It must be kept dry.  Showers and other water things are a major process.  3 weeks passed.  It was a Chinese Torture.  Finally this past Tuesday:  cast came off.  That is sorta fun to watch too.  Finger is somewhat better - still crooked.    Now we start OT.  I suppose they send her to Occupation Therapy so she can get a job in the future.  I figure she needs to learn to drive a truck.  Certainly it is not called PT - because this is only physical therapy.  I'm looking forward to the psychology visits later...surely they will come.

Now, we have several days of OT to enjoy - plus our own personal physical therapy at home, guided by me ( ** an expert ** ) 3x a day.  The pinkie finger looks terrible.  She will never be able to get a hand modeling contract in the future.  That career is gone.  In the meantime, life goes on around here. I had to give some blood and see my cancer urology doctor and get my cancer shot.  The doctor went out of town so the actual appointment has been moved to April - but, still I GOT THE SHOT.  My blood shows that my PSA  is  <.01  They tell me - this is good.   Men:  get your PSA checked.  You want to catch the prostate cancer earlier than I did.   

We went to pharmacy and had the flu and covid shots.  Wife had her annual dermatology visit - all's well there.  Another round of doctor and OT visits come  after Thanksgiving.  Medical must be taking Thanksgiving off.  Must B.

====

When I leave the house, I dog-proof certain areas.  Close doors - hide trash - put edibles off tables - etc.   Forgot yesterday one of the bits.  Came home to a bathroom with garbage spread all over the floor.  I called our little Anna to me (a big basset with an enormous bark).  She rounded the corner and saw the bathroom floor.  Immediately, she flipped around and ran to the other room  I still verbally assaulted her.  Won't matter.  She'll forget everything except where the trash can is.

You might say that she forgave me for fussing so loudly.

So that is the way it is.  One little nonsense followed by another.  It doesn't seem that little things will ever let up.  One annoyance after another.  That is life.  One thing leads to another.  I guess it is like:  a door closes and another opens.  but in reverse.  

Have I ever mentioned that black trim has fallen off my car.  I have one piece of trim taped back on the car with bright pink duck tape.  It is certainly pretty.   That trim piece has an electrical component and can't be just set aside.  So my driver's window is taped shut.  Can't use drive-up windows, window won't move.  I bet we look like some backwoods hicks driving around with pink duck tape on the window.  At least carjackers should leave us alone - ducked taped cars don't register high on the "steal" list.

Love ya.  Keep your heads down and open some more doors.  But above all, be sure to keep some pink duck tape in your car trunk.  Ya never know....

mtz    and  ** from above **  definition  Expert: An " Ex "  is a has been.  A " Pert"  [ spurt ] is a drip under pressure. [ Daffynition ]