Halloween Left-overs

This year I was optimistic about the number of kids that would come trick or treating. After all, COVID has quieted down in our area and everybody is anxious to get out. A month before the event my grocery store ran a sale of Halloween candy. I bit and bought a bag of 250 pieces of Snickers, 3 Musketeers, Twix, and M&Ms. Guess what? The crowd was minimal. I don’t think we had fifty kids come to the door. Of course it helped when my neighbor two doors down set up a giant air slide that he uses for his grand kids and I saw several kids pass by my house and make a b-line to the slide. Thank you Sue, but next time give me a warning. Now I’m stuck with all my favorite candies tempting me to kiss KETO goodbye. The system doesn’t work if I eat KETO breakfast, lunch, and supper, but snack on candies in between.

I worked a couple of hours this afternoon troubleshooting my pond pump which mysteriously stopped pushing water to my water fall. I pulled it out a couple of days ago when the temperature was in the low sixties, today it is in the thirties and a few hours ago it was snowing. Not very good weather to be playing outside in water, but it was a great day to play inside with water. I disassembled the pump and found nothing that would stop the impeller. I plugged it in on the bench and the impeller spun. After putting it back together I had two bolts left over and no nuts. I searched for a few minutes and thought maybe I have some of these nuts in my cache. I have hundreds of nuts, but not the kind I needed. I moved every tool, and part I had on the bench but found nothing. I scanned the floor around my bench with a spot light, nothing. Then the brain kicked in and started retracing my steps, I did walk the parts to the slop sink to clean them, so I scanned the sink, nothing. Then the light went on above my mind, look in the drain. Yep that’s where they were.

A second assembly later I declared the pump ready for a test, indoors that is. I left off the 90 degree elbow with the check valve, and put the pump in a five gallon bucket with water to test in my basement slop sink. The water shot up and gushed forth. Next, I thought why not see if the valve is the problem. I reassembled the elbow with the valve, and then thought long and hard about plugging it in. Do I venture ahead and test with the possibility of having to clean up four gallons of water, or do I drag the thing up the stairs to test it on the patio. I chose the patio. It took a few minutes to get it in place, but that was easier than mopping the basement from a man-made flood. I plugged it in, and water gushed out of the elbow, Great, I thought then it turned off. What? Why did that happen? My mind raced through a checklist of possibilities and then it dawned on me the bucket was empty. In that instant of turning the pump on it emptied the bucket. Whew! Problem solved.

I carried the bucket and the pump back to the basement and refilled the bucket with water. The manufacturer recommends storing the unit submerged in water to keep the seals from drying out and causing the oil to leak. Even though I am satisfied that the pump is healthy I still have a problem. The water fall no longer works, The next step will be to look for things that may be plugging the plumbing. If I live until April and I remember where I left off I’ll tackle it then. Right now I’m dreaming about wintering in Arizona where the only way I know if it snows is when the mountain tops above 7000 feet turn white.

A Demon Inside Me

It was a bit chilly this rainy afternoon when I attended the OASIS monthly meeting. The theme today was “Being Thankful.” The Lions club turned out in healthy numbers and that was a good thing. Because there was a Thanksgiving turkey dinner with all the trimmings, it took a bunch of Lions to serve the meal to the twenty visually impaired people in attendance. For the second time this week, I ate a meal from Cup A Joes cafe. They were identical, and both were delicious, KETO be damned. I can feel the slippage away from a rigorous diet in my waist. I am mentally defeated and rapidly succumbing to the carbohydrate world of mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, bread-stuffing, pumpkin pie, and more. The only thing KETO on my plate was the turkey.

In my mind I am building a case of determination to get back to a rigorous KETO meal plan with 1500 calories per day. I will not buy new clothes to match my waist again.

The biggest challenge will be getting my breakfast back in control. Ever since I found KETO bread at the grocery I have been living carb high. The bread is certainly lower in carbs than normal sliced white bread, but two slices is just two grams away from the daily carb-limit of twenty.

Once I finally make up my mind to get off bread again the sweets will also fall off the plate. I’ll again be substituting berries for dessert. One reason I fell off the plan was a sudden distaste for eggs. Eggs are a staple for KETO breakfast plans. Hard boiled, scrambled, omelets, poached, after awhile the palette simply rejects eggs no matter how they are cooked or disguised. Another mistake I have made is to allow portion control to become a dirty phrase.

My, my how I have to get myself back into control once more. I will add one more thing before I sign off. It is a whole lot easier to gain weight than it is to lose it. With Thanksgiving right around the corner the temptation to gorge on carb-calories becomes a demon inside me.

In Shock

There is one comment that puts me into shock every time I hear it, “so and so died.” I opened a text message today and the words were “did you hear that Les died?” Les who? was my reply. I only know one Les and he is not ready to die. It got me down, and I don’t need anything else to be funky about. The dark days of November do me in every year. I sat on this for a while and then decided to call a fellow Lion who knew Les. Yes, he confirmed it, Les had a heart attack either late last night or early this morning.

Lion Les Egbert

Les was a member of the Frankfort Lions Club joining in 1979, and was president in the 1984-85 term, he loved the club. He was a stickler for the rules. He knew the Lions Club International Constitution by heart and could quote from it. At times this made him a royal pain in the ass because he would squelch some good ideas with his penchant for the rules, but he kept us honest and I liked him for that.

There are some people who lead very private lives and Les was one of them. Ask any of the long time Lions in our club if Les had kids and no one can answer. Did he have siblings? No one knows. He does (did) have a wife of many years who he adored. I saw them together in church most every Sunday, until Covid hit. Like all things related to Covid my relationship with Les stopped. I saw him again after mask mandates loosened and we were able to meet face to face again.

When I was president of the club I had to communicate the old fashioned way with Les. He refused to become computer literate and thus had no e-mail. He didn’t believe in electronic messaging. I wound up calling him or sending him post cards with announcements. We had sixty members and only four did not have e-mail. On a few occasions I forgot to send him a special message and he would remind me by explaining the value of keeping members informed by US mail. He also rubbed it in with “when I was president we always sent postal meeting reminders.”

I will miss Les and his obstinate ways. Even though I hated to hear his comments and arguments he always succeeded in giving me a lesson in leadership.

Racist Roads?

Thank God I gave up spending my life reading news websites in favor of living to enjoy life. A few years ago I spent myriads of hours reading political BS about just about everything. All it did was to expand my vocabulary to understand what Democrats were calling me, like racist, homophobe, xenophobic.

This morning I spent driving to the north suburbs of Chicago to visit a business called Aum-Bio in Rolling Meadows. My wife believes and relies on alternative therapies for curing her ills and maintaining her health. Upon our return I decided to spend an hour reading internet news sites. The one headline that caught my attention contained the term “racist roads.” That one made me laugh out loud. Democrats are no longer satisfied with calling their opponents racists and are turning to the roads. Pretty desperate if you ask me. I had to open this article to get the details for how roads can be classified as racist. Wonder-Boy Secretary of Transportation Mayor Pete Buttigieg made the comment. He explained that he would use a large percentage of the money from the 1.5 trillion dollar infrastructure bill to address the problem of racist roads. To me that means that he will invent several new agencies staffed with high paid impossible to fire government employees to study the problem and at the end will recommend replacing the so called roads with new ones that cut right through old established neighborhoods.

Back in the nineteen fifties then mayor of Chicago Richard J. Daley was responsible for getting a new super highway built to serve Chicago. Since Lake Michigan borders the east side of the city the new road had to enter the city from the south, and exit to the north. This road would be part of Interstates 90, and 94 that skirt the south end of Lake Michigan and then head back north through Chicago into Wisconsin before they again turn west at different latitudes.

The 1950’s demographic history of Chicago shows that most of the black population lived on the near south side in ghettos that came into existence after the great fire in the eighteen hundreds. I can call these ghettos because I personally witnessed the neighborhoods as I road the Red Rocket street car down Cottage Grove Avenue to 22nd street where I got off and walked to Michael Reese Hospital for physical therapy. I was shocked at the dilapidation of the buildings along the way especially those north of 55th street. It got worse and worse the further north toward the city-center. At times I was the only white boy on the car amongst blacks. Since I wore a neck brace and used crutches I was often offered a seat by a black person, usually a very tired looking lady who could hardly wait to get home. Since I was taught to respect my elders I never accepted an offer, I waited until a seat became open. I never feared for my life, no one ever tried to intimidate me we were just passengers on a public mode of transportation trying to get somewhere.

Looking at the map that decided where the Dan Ryan Expressway (1-94) was to go, it is clear to see that the black population won privy to Chicago’s prized lakefront access. It was the white who could not cross under low bridges by bus to get to the beaches, it was the blacks who had privilege to prime lakefront views and access. It was the whites who could not access Chicago’s largest parks like Washington Park, and Jackson Park. The whites the of the city are owed reparation for access to the prime lakefront properties, and access to the nicest parks in the mid-west.

Since the fifties and Interstate 94 (Dan Ryan Expressway) was completed as a necessary road, the black population has expanded twenty miles to the east and west sides of I-94 all the way into the south suburbs to east-west road Interstate 80. Chicago has had a Democrat mayor exclusively during that time. Wonder-boy Mayor Pete should have claimed this fact as well in his announcement. Instead he makes it sound like the entire population of the U.S.A. is race hating. I can say with some probability of accuracy that his home town of South Bend, Indiana of which he was mayor, has a similar historical story to tell.

I do say to Wonder-Boy Buttigieg yes, Chicago was segmented into neighborhoods, and yes, at that time whites were very prejudiced. I have a problem with that because my trips for physical therapy were the result of spending four months in a hospital being cared for by many black nurses, and therapists. I got to know these people very well and never came to a conclusion that they were anything other than people just like me. They just happened to be a different color and a different culture. Maybe Mayor Daley decided the interstate should split the blacks from the whites, but he had to make a decision on which neighborhoods to upset with this road which goes directly into the city from the south, and at the same time would destroy some very old and dangerous buildings.

As I examine the map above the split shows a that ten to twenty percent of the black population was on the white-side(west) of the highway. Since the interstate system was new in 1950 there were no laws that dictated the clearance of underpasses or overpasses. As a point of interest the Dan Ryan does not have underpasses. Every street that crosses the highway is an overpass and does not limit any bus or truck from passing over it. The laws did not dictate that there should be ample clearance for busses to carry us from the west to the east side beaches because there was no need for it. It is my guess that if Wonder-Boy Buttigieg were in a position to make that decision he would have done exactly the same, except he too would have forgotten to raise the clearances for busses. Where we do have clearance problems is when a railroad crosses a road. Many of these underpasses are so low that trucks crossing under them decapitate their roofs. Wonder Boy does not address problems caused by hundred year old railroad crossings. Were these intentionally made too low for the purpose of separating blacks from whites? I don’t think so.

There are no racist roads anywhere in the country, only racists who keep promoting that we are a racist country.