Fourty Years and I Still Haven't Used Algebra

Thinking back, I have spent a lot of years being educated. Thirteen years for K-12 in public schools, four years of undergraduate and four part-time years of graduate school.
While I realize the intent in K-12 was to provide a "well rounded" education, there was a fair amount of time spent on stuff that has not been retained and never used. The title of this piece is one example. Algebra was a required course, but I have no recollection of how it works and have never had a need for it in my profession. I took two years of French. As a result I cannot speak, write, or follow a conversation in French. According to my brother, the only value to studying foreign languages in school was that he can now ask someone to go to bed with him in three different languages (he obviously got more out of it than I did). I took music for three years, but can't read music. In English classes, I learned to appreciate Lord of the Rings, to dislike Shakespeare, to not have any interest in poetry and to find that diagramming sentences was a total waste of time . Physics was a mystery. Shop class taught me how to use basic tools so I can hang a picture or change a washer in a faucet, but I would never try to actually build something. Others are handy; I am not.
Looking back at my teachers, I view tenure as a double-edged sword. I had a lot of teachers who cared and wanted to do a good job, and I had many who were not very motivated and could best be described as jerks. Still others such as the one math teacher I had, was very nice but his communication style was on a level that many (including me) did not comprehend what he was trying to teach. I liked him; I just didn't get what he was trying to teach.
In undergraduate school, while I majored in Nursing, I took a variety of non-Nursing courses. Among them were Sociology, Philosophy, Phys Ed (golf, tennis and bowling, none of which I have done again in over 30 years), three different chemistry courses,  and other classes whose subjects I can't even remember. While there may be pieces of these courses that I actually remember and use, the vast majority must be in part of my brain that I just don't use and, for the most part, can't access.
In graduate school, I had to take Statistics. What I took away from the class was that, if I ever needed to use statistics, I would pay someone else to do the work for me. Accounting and Managerial Finance have actually been useful because I have had to manage multi-million dollar budgets. Christian Social Principles (it was a Catholic college) taught me about ethics. Nursing Research taught me how to read a research article and differentiate between good and sloppy research. Nursing Theories taught me various theories. I found that professionally, I am eclectic in this regard; I do not embrace one single theory, but rather parts of several. Nursing concepts taught me how to examine an issue in depth. Since part of my personality is that I am very analytical, it was helpful in structuring my thinking.
Overall, there has been a lot of "stuff" poured into my brain over the years. Some of it has been helpful to what I do today, some has been "nice to know" and some has been a colossal waste of time. Over the years, my brain has learned to retain and use what I need, to know where to look for things I might need, and to forget a lot of the useless stuff. I also separate work from pleasure. I enjoy history and trivia. I can discuss the Battle of Rourke's Drift (the British won) or tell you what famous entertainer died while sitting on the toilet (Elvis). It all boils down to knowing what you need to know for work and what you want to know for the rest (and Algebra is not one of them).

Hold my beer

This past week, on our vacation to Acadia, my wife and daughter and I were enjoying a picnic lunch on the granite ledges above the shore between Sand Beach and the Otter Cliffs. I spotted two men (in the photo above) near the shore, and their behavior gave a hint of some excitement to come.

Let me start by saying that the rangers had posted signs saying "Dangerous Surf" and "Use Extreme Caution". A few years back, a 12-year old girl had been washed off the rocks nearby and was killed, so the warnings were not to be taken lightly.

The man on the right in the photo was in a typical photographer's pose with the camera held in front of him, but was also motioning to his companion to move closer to the water, where the waves were breaking over the rocks along the shore.

I was imagining the account in the newspaper about the man being washed off the rocks, with the usual descriptor "and alcohol was involved". As you can imagine, the wet rocks were quite slippery, and, while we watched, he slipped on the wet rock and landed face down. Miraculously, he did not end up getting washed off the rock, but whatever he was holding in his right hand (cell phone? beer?) was apparently broken or spilled.

He was able to regain his feet and did not appear to be injured. After this apparent near-death experience, one would think that the two of them would move away from the surf to a safer location. You would be wrong. The photographer was again motioning to his companion to move closer to the surf, and his buddy was doing so. I don't know if they were disinhibited or stupid or both, but it did not look like it was going to end well.

How did it end? We didn't stay to see how it worked out. We had finished lunch and decided to continue our sightseeing, entertaining though this was. I am assuming that, since I didn't see anything on the local television news about someone being drowned in the high surf, that nothing bad happened, but it's possible the photographer did not want to try to explain an incident that started with "Hold my beer."

 

I don't understand electricity, but I know it calms me

The title is a quote from comedian Emo Phillips, and is used to illustrate that there are a lot of things in life we may not understand, and it's OK. Brains function differently. Some people are voracious learners, some remember seemingly everything, some can explain any conundrum, and some are just clueless (to varying degrees).
There are a lot of things I need to know in life, but probably an even greater number of things that it's either nice to know or I don't need to know at all. For work, it's important to know the physical environment and how it operates (policies and procedures), who works there, and the people we serve. Less important is knowing all of the details of everyone's personal life, where the spare toothbrushes are stored or how much everyone gets paid. You tend to remember the important stuff, and know where to look or who to ask for the other stuff.
Outside of work, I also prioritize what I choose to understand and remember. Examples of things I choose not to understand/remember:
- Algebra (it has been 40 years since I learned it and I still haven't used it)
- Suggested Retail Price (it's just something made up with no link to reality)
- Why does anyone care about what anyone named Kardashian says or does?
- What possessed Lincoln Chaffee (and several other equally notables) to run for President?
- Street names (I can get where I want to go in Burlington but usually have no idea of the name of the street)
- Fairs (they are often little more then open-air psychiatric units)
- Who is my State Representative? (I have no idea and not knowing hasn't done any harm)
- What are the names of the prescription medications I take? (I know some, but I can just look at the bottles)
- When did I get divorced? (I would need to find the divorce papers; but it really doesn't matter)
- When are various relative's birthdays? (Fortunately, my wife remembers these things)
- Why are any of the Real Housewives shows on television?
- How did we ever do our taxes correctly ourselves before Turbo Tax?
These are just a few examples; there are probably hundreds more. I am also sometimes amazed at some of the stuff that I remember that seems pretty useless (history, quotes, etc.). As long as I can remember or research the important stuff, though, it's OK.
Like Emo, there are things in life that just work, I am not sure why, and I don't really need to know.

Democracy is the art of running the circus from the monkey cage

The title of this piece is a quote from fellow curmudgeon HL Mencken. Although he died over half a century ago, his jaundiced view of politics seems just as relevant today. The current contest to be elected President, although in its' early stages, is a prime example of this.
With all of the people running for the Republican nomination, everyone is wanting attention, and is saying whatever they need to in order to get it. The recent debate was reminiscent of a dysfunctional family Thanksgiving dinner, with the adult table and the children's' table. Although I chose not to watch the entire debate, the news clips clearly communicated the substance (not much) and the entertainment value of the event.
Will the future debates that are planned have any substance? While I have my doubts, the field will likely narrow as some of the lesser-known candidates fade into obscurity where they belong and drop out. If enough do this, the children's table will go away. In the end, we may be left with three or four candidates, although the way polls change, it's hard to know for sure who they will ultimately be. In the last campaign cycle, Herman Cain was flying high at the top of the polls for awhile, and faded quickly. Just about anything is possible. Pundits say that Donald Trump will eventually fade, but his bombast and total aversion to etiquette in the meantime is priceless.
For the  Democrats, you have Hillary, Bernie, and former Maryland governor Martin O'Malley.  Hillary has the baggage of being associated with the sometimes-sleazy Clinton Political Machine, Bernie is a nice guy who is totally ineffectual as a legislator, and O'Malley is just not doing or saying anything to get any attention. Would any of them make an effective President? It is hard to imagine.
Right now, the monkey cage is crowded and most of the inhabitants are doing little more than throwing poop at each other. While entertaining, it hardly instills confidence in any of them. Hopefully, as the cage becomes less crowded, the remaining candidates will do a better job of convincing you that they deserve your vote.
Then again, maybe not, but that's democracy.

Trump: He had an asshole transplant, but it rejected him

The part of the title about a transplant comes from the punch line of an old Monty Python joke. While the Pythons were referring to Richard Nixon, it could equally be applied to Donald Trump. As the (by several standard deviations) most colorful presidential candidate, I look forward, usually in amazement, to what he will say next.
For example, he recently made the boast that he would build a fence at the southern border and "make Mexico pay for it". Really? I would like to see the reaction of the President of Mexico when Trump sends him the bill. If it  were me, it would go right into the recycle container. The Mexican President's reaction might be different, but I doubt it involves getting out his checkbook.
A few days back, he gave out Lindsey Graham's personal cell phone number at a political rally. If he thinks that something this crass is perfectly OK to do and demonstrates sound judgment, is this the man you want to trust with the nuclear codes?
I was especially amused when he described Hillary Clinton as the "absolute worst Secretary of State in the history of the country". What he seems to have forgotten is that he donated to Clinton's political campaign when she ran for Senator from New York. One has to wonder: Is he lying now or did he just have terrible judgment back then when he made the donation? I am sure it would not be a question to which he would respond gracefully.
In today's news, Trump has "banned" the Des Moines Register from covering his political events because he became piqued at one of their editorials when they suggested that he was a blowhard and should drop out of the presidential race. If you think about it, this is pretty much empty rhetoric. Nothing would stop a reporter (minus cameras and other bulky equipment) from walking in with the rest of the crowd, observing and reporting. It just goes to show he has a pretty thin skin for anyone who uses the same approach toward him that he uses toward others.
While you may have surmised that I would never vote for Donald Trump for anything, I sincerely hope that this transplant recipient stays in the presidential race purely for the entertainment value. He makes pretty much anyone else look good.

Donald Trump: Hair or Helmet?

One of my current forms of entertainment is listening to Donald Trump on television. It's hard to take him seriously. He comes across as arrogant, bombastic, and has a worldview that can best be described as "wingnut".
When one watches "The Donald" spouting off, it is hard for your attention not to be drawn to his hair. As one who shaves his head, I cannot profess to be an expert on hairstyles, but his is one that I find hard to believe there to be anything natural about it.
A parallel to this goes back to my youth when, as a teenager, I worked in a small hospital in Pennsylvania. The Administrator  was a woman who never went to college, but her career took her from passing out meal trays to patients to being Administrator of the hospital. The rumor that she had been the mistress of the Chief of Surgery may have contributed to her phenomenal rise, but that's a story for another time.
A defining feature of this woman was her blond hair. It struck me that it always looked exactly the same and there was never a single hair out of place. Sometimes, my imagination can be quite entertaining, and I used to fantasize that she was actually completely bald and that her hair was actually a helmet that came off every night and went onto a stand next to her bed. Fast forward 40+ years to today, and my  mind takes me in the same direction with Trump.
Take a look at The Donald. Hair or Helmet? I might be mistaken, but perhaps not. You decide.

I've had a wonderful time, but this wasn't it

I recently went to my doctor's office because I had been experiencing an increase in shortness of breath (I have long-standing lung problems) and occasional pressure in my chest.
The Physician Assistant who examined me decided he wanted to refer me for a "stress-echo" test. Back in 1980, I worked in Cardiology doing stress tests, so I was familiar with that part of it, but they did not do stress-echos back then. Turns out it is a combination of a stress test and an echocardiogram.
I am not addicted to exercise, and the fact that I get short of breath very easily did not give me confidence that things were going to end well. On the bright side, at least it got me out of work early.
I arrived at the Cardiology Clinic, signed in, and sat down in the waiting room. While I was killing time reading work emails on my phone, the fire alarm went off, and everyone needed to evacuate the building. We waited outside for about 20 minutes, then were allowed back into the building. I sat back down but, a few minutes later, the fire alarms went off again and everyone again exited the building. The fire department was still there, decided that there was a defect with the fire alarm, and allowed everyone back into the building.
There were three staff in the room to do the test. The Cardiac Tech (Jennie) got me connected to the wireless EKG equipment. The Echo Tech (Tiffany) operated the ultrasound equipment to test before and after the stress test. The nurse (Joy) monitored the high tech readout on the screen while I was on the treadmill. If I were being executed by lethal injection, I could not have asked for a more delightful group for the occasion.
In a stress test, you start walking on a treadmill and, every three minutes, it increases in speed and elevation. Surprisingly, I made it through the first two stages and started the third, although my legs felt like someone was stabbing them and I was struggling to breathe . If I had any pressure in my chest, I didn't notice it because of the struggle to breathe. I gave up, got back on the stretcher, and Tiffany did her thing with the ultrasound machine while I struggled to breath.
I have to thank the late Groucho Marx for the title of this piece, it was perfect for the occasion. While I wouldn't wish a stress echo upon anyone, the three ladies provided a positive aspect to an otherwise near-death experience. Thank you, Groucho, for finding the words to express my sentiments.

Trying to make things work in government is like trying to sew a button on a custard pie

The title of this piece is from the late Admiral Hyman Rickover. Admiral Rickover headed the efforts of the United States Navy to design and build nuclear-powered warships, and was intimately familiar with the dysfunction of the United States Government.
Examples of governmental dysfunction are countless, but among them:
- The IRS (is there a single human being on this planet that actually understands the Tax Code?)
- Congressmen introducing bills that are over 1000 pages long (Does anyone actually read them?)
- The military procurement system (Some items take so long to develop that they are obsolete by the time the military gets them.)
- The Veterans Administration System (The recent scandal involving false records of appointments to show they were doing better then they actually were says it all.)
- The Secret Service(They used to be good.)
All organizations have dysfunction to one degree or another, and these same organizations no doubt have a lot of good and competent people. Good people doing their jobs competently is what we expect, and the screw-ups should be invisible to the public. Taken as a whole, our government accomplishes a lot and delivers a lot of service. Due to its' staggering size, though, the waste and incompetence can appear to be staggering. Unfortunately, the system has evolved into something that can probably never be fixed (we probably couldn't even agree on what "fixed" is.)
Rickover had a strong personality and high expectations, and was able to be successful more often than not. If he could see us today, he would probably be thinking that the button slid completely off the pie.

You can get by with charm for about 15 minutes; after that, you'd better know something

The title of this piece was some sage advice shared with me by Betty, one of my peers, who worked with me at a large (15,000 employees) hospital in Pennsylvania many years ago. Betty was the manager of the Emergency Departments at the two campuses, while I managed the three psychiatric units.
In our nursing management group (our official job title was Director of Patient Care Services), Betty was a leader. While she had a doctorate in Education, you would never know it because she was more focused on doing the job competently and professionally than flaunting academic credentials. She led by example and was someone who genuinely earned your respect.
We reported to a Senior VP of Nursing and her group of Nursing Administrators. While all were academically qualified for their positions, and generally polite and professional on the surface, the Administrators seemed to often rely upon bullying and intimidation when challenged in a situation beyond their skills. Both Betty and I experienced bullying and, like many others in the nursing management group, moved on  jobs elsewhere. While the Senior VP of Nursing and her Administrators were eventually fired, an environment had been created which posed a major challenge to the nursing executive who took over (who ultimately did a fantastic job of turning things around).
Being recruited to come to Vermont, I had an opportunity to start over in a new organization. In the seven years I was there, I worked for four different Senior VPs of Nursing and three different Nursing Administrators. Nursing leadership could best be described as unstable because of the turnover, with three of the four Senior VPs of Nursing being forced out because of the institutional politics.
Of the three Nursing Administrators for whom I worked, the first two were fine, the last not so much. (My severance agreement with the hospital prohibits me from saying anything negative about the institution or its' officers, so I will omit names of both.)
This individual, while she had two Masters degrees, could best be described as "highly intelligent without a corresponding level of competence". The fact that she is also married to a chairman of a politically powerful department of the hospital would seem to go a long way to explaining how she got the job in the first place and continues to survive with apparent impunity.
While it is regrettable that people like this rise to positions of power and inflict themselves upon others, they also serve as important examples to myself and others on how not to do things. People like this are (regardless of reality) never wrong, and are feared rather than respected.
When given a choice between Betty and this unnamed individual, I will always remember Betty as a  positive role model. It is OK to say "I don't know" or to change ones' position on a subject if someone convinces you. While that other individual is still around, it is not a positive and certainly not because of practicing "you'd better know something". I guess I should thank her for the lesson she gave as well.