It has been quite a while since I have written about our new home. Seven months in and to quote White Sox announcer Ken Harrelson, there are “ducks on the pond.” Also swans, geese, herons and one prehistoric looking, pterodactyl-like creature. We have mastered the local walking and running trails and measured out our Sunday morning hike to breakfast in downtown Deerfield. Does a five-mile march cancel out an order of french toast and bacon?

We have also discovered the gem of the house. Projecting off the side of the kitchen and reaching out toward the pond is our new sanctuary. Call it a “Three Seasons Room” or a covered porch, it is tranquil, breeze cooled, and until winter comes, the best spot to curl up with a weekend-morning cup of tea or a before-dinner magazine. We each have our own corner to lounge in, and the kitten loves it as much as we do. She patiently waits each morning for one of us to open the door so she can settle under one of the sunlit chairs.

It is not a big space; Barb says her one regret with the house is that we didn’t make this room large enough for a kitchen table. But with jalousied windows, a high pitched roof, and rustic timbers, it truly brings the outside in. And I love that. Despite going out for a run or two every week, nightly walks around the neighborhood “loop,” and even going to a few ballgames in the last month, I am an indoor type of guy.

Going with us to a restaurant that features outside seating? Sorry, but I will tell the hostess we would prefer that indoor table in the corner. Sure, I will go to a concert at Wrigley or Soldier Field, but aren’t the sound and sight lines better at the United Center? And no need to watch Brant Miller or Tom Skilling for their over-excited weather forecasts. Rain won’t dampen an indoor concert.

The lounge chairs on our outdoor deck? I haven’t used them once. Buy a sexy convertible? No interest for me. Yeah, the wind in your face can be cool, but who needs the bugs and the exhaust fumes? And the road noise makes it really hard to listen to my latest audiobook. Especially when it’s the latest spy thriller and the narrator is expounding in a poorly done Eastern European accent.

So yeah, I am an inside guy. But the Three Seasons Room lets me enjoy the summer and still bring a hint of the outdoors in. All in all, I am a happy camper–as long as I am “camping in!”

***

Hey-I had my first viral post last week!  If you haven’t read it yet, here is the link: Repeal and Replace Donald Trump.  Let me know if you agree. You can leave a comment on the blog or email me at les.raff@post.com And feel free to share this post or any others in Downsize, Maybe.

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It’s that time of year. Beginning tomorrow, Chicago will once again host Lollapalooza, one of the countries largest annual music festivals. Four days of music, sun, and traffic jams. In the meantime, Washington DC, continues to host the nation’s other ongoing source of entertainment, as the Trump administration lurches along from one calamity to the next. So how do the two compare?

10 DIFFERENCES

1. Lollapalooza loves coming to Chicago every year.

Trumpapalooza wants to “send in the Feds” to Chicago.

 

2. Perry Ferrell, the Lollapalooza organizer, played in “Jane’s Addiction.”

John Kelly, the Trumpapalooza Chief of Staff, played in “The United States Marine Corp.”

 

3. Lollapalooza brings in new acts every year.

Trumpapalooza brings in new players every week.

 

4. According to Maxim Magazine, Lollapalooza attendees are looking for sex with partners.

According to now vanquished Anthony Scaramucci, members of the team Trumpapalooza are  looking for sex with themselves.

 

5. Lollapalooza bands play at lots of aftershows that come as a surprise

Trumpapalooza players leak lots of news that comes as a surprise.

 

6. Lollapalooza tickets sell out in about 30 seconds and everybody shows up.

Trumpapalooza claimed the Innauguration had the biggest crowd in history, but nobody showed up.

 

7. Lollapalooza wants to bring in people from all over the world.

Trumpapalooza likes to keep things home grown.

 

8. Lots of people at Lollapalooza will be on drugs.

Everyone in the Trumpapalooza administration seems to be on drugs.

 

9. Lollapalooza headliners include “Arcade Fire” and “Lourde.”

The President of Trumpapalooza loves to fire people and thinks he IS the Lord.

 

10. If we are good boys and girls Lollapalooza will be back next year.

If we are good boys and girls Trumpapalooza will be gone by next year

 

I’ll stick to Lolla–even though I hate crowds! What about you?

——————-
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Eighteen months ago I started out with a gentle parody of the Republican and Democratic Primary/Debate process. A little later I turned my focus more specifically to Donald Trump.  After his win in November, I beseeched him to be a President who listened to, and governed for, all of us–regardless of age, race, profession or social status. And even this week, my mockery was passive in nature.

I do not know what finally flipped my switch. Maybe it is the cumulative weight of his tweets, his shameless disregard for protocol, his lack of any consistent policy on anything that has turned up the burn. The ongoing debacle in the Senate is made untenable knowing that there is a President who will sign any bill obliterating the Affordable Care Act, probably without even knowing the contents, just to live up to one of his loudest and least thought out campaign pledges. Donald, who knew health care reform could be so complicated?

John McCain, whom you alternately say is or isn’t a hero, gave you and the rest of the Republican Senate majority some cover to allow you to try to work with the Democratic opposition to repair a flawed but savable health care plan. But instead, you and Mitch McConnell prefer a  blaze of destruction.

Your foreign policy is a sham apparently designed to protect your personal interests; your Cabinet is mostly packed with lightweights. Your communications team is a joke, even if we must say goodbye to Melissa McCarthy’s Sean Spicer impersonation. Today you fret and tweet about transgender personnel in the military while we read that North Korea is closer than ever to developing usable ICBMs. Do you represent the country’s priorities? Are you the man we need making key decisions while the Doomsday Clock ticks closer to midnight? Or do you calculate that a nuclear war might help us forget all about your hostility to the undeniable fact of global warming? I can see the tweet now “Oops, HUGE atomic explosion, nuclear winter will prove global warming GIANT hoax. #toldyouso #bigboom.”

Walls instead of bridges, vitriol instead of vision. Six months have already been too much.

So what will it be–do we repeal you with the 25th Amendment or replace you with impeachment? The time has come for one or the other.

 

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The following transcript was discovered in the hidden files on Sean Spicer upon his sudden resignation as White House Press Secretary.

 

Secret taping of Raff household during Sunday Barbecue July 16

Dr. Raff: Thank you all for coming to our lovely home today for this wonderful barbecue. I am about to go out and ignite our deluxe, 24 burner, gas grill, but before I do, I think you should all let me know just how you think I have performed over the last six months. No alternate facts, just the truth. Who wants to go first?

Son-in-law:  I have only been in the family for a few weeks, but I want to tell you that this has been the most fantastic family I could ever hope to marry in to. I love your daughter, but it was knowing that you were the pater familias that prompted me to ask her to marry me.

Dr. Raff: Thank you, though I don’t like foreign words around here. They will be banned as soon as I build a wall between our back yard and the neighbors.

Son: Thanks for having us here Dad. Every day of my life has been blessed by having you as my father. As an attorney I once defended some pretty sleazy guys, so it is no problem for me to defend you in anything you do. And I swear I have never had a secret meeting with any one at any time in any place.

Dr. Raff: Thank you son. I always knew you were a smart one. But now I want to hear from your lovely wife.

Daughter-in-law: I just want to say how enlightened and enriched my life has become since I have known you. I would trust every aspect of my life to you. Even though my own father is a physician, I have no doubt that you are the best and smartest doctor I have ever met.

Dr. Raff: I can tweet that—”best doctor in the world”. And what about the little ones?

3 year old granddaughter: Baba, I love you so much, that I just want to keep hugging you and playing with you. I am so happy I see you so much. I learn so much from you.

1 year old granddaughter: Baba! Baba!

Dr. Raff: Good to  see you are both being brought up the right way. Is there anyone we haven’t heard from yet? I see a few hands raised.

Daughter: Not only did you throw us the perfect wedding, your promise to pardon us from any crime we may ever commit is the warmest and most loving gift we could ever hope for.

Dr. Raff: That’s right honey. Your daddy will always be there for you. And now my lovely wife.

Wife: Dear, I never tell you enough how wonderful  a husband, father and grandfather you are. You put the bread on our table, the roof over our heads and make sure we have health care even though that freaking Obamacare doubled our premiums. If you are ever investigated I will do my best to hide any incriminating evidence.

Dr. Raff: Thank you all. I know your praises are heartfelt and that I deserve every bit of everything that comes my way. I am going to go out now to grill some fantastic steaks with the biggest baked potatoes this country has ever seen. Great, just great.

Sound of footsteps followed by door opening and closing.

3 year old granddaughter: What a bleep.

1 year old granddaughter: Bleep right.
——————–

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Are you a fan? Get your kicks watching Cersei and Jon Snow and fire breathing dragons? Then I am sure that you will be home Sunday night perched in front of your favorite TV set to watch the Season 7 premiere of “Game of Thrones” live. Sure you could go to a GOT party, but that’s like a Super Bowl Party, too much attention to the food, not enough attention to the onscreen action. And who wants to wait while your hosts try to figure out how to work the remote to replay a key scene?

We will be home in front of our new 4K HDTV megaset watching HBO with rapt attention and trying to remember how last season ended. Who is good, who is evil, who is alive, who is dead, and who is somewhere in between?

We have been watching for years, and I have read a few of the George RR Martin novels. But don’t think that is wasted time! Here are 10 life lessons I have learned watching since the beginning.

1. Dragons cause mayhem. Unfortunately, State Farm doesn’t insure for THAT type of mayhem.
2. Shadows make perfect assasins. They don’t leave fingerprints or DNA.
3. Pretending your nephew is your illegitimate son can screw up lots of lives. And it won’t make your wife happy.
4. Short people got no reason to live…no wait, that’s a Randy Newman song. In GOT the short guy kills it. Literally.
5. Immature, egotistical teenage megalomaniacs make less than ideal rulers. No matter how old they are.
6. Dogs WILL bite the hand that feeds them. And the arms, face, neck, toes etc.
7. Walls have a purpose. When the bad hombres are White Walkers.
8. Sex with siblings. It is as creepy as it sounds.
9. Watching your sibling be killed by molten gold. Also creepy.
10. Hotels charge more for Red Weddings. It’s hard to get the blood out of the carpet.

There you have it. 10 ways “Game of Thrones” has explained the world to me. Next week I’ll tell you what I have learned from “The Walking Dead…”

 

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Scenario #1: I told you about some ghosts in our machine. The new Sony TVs we bought at Abt Television and Appliances didn’t communicate well with our Comcast/Xfinity cable system. Frequent shutdowns and reboots made watching “The Walking Dead” and “Girls” even greater hardships than they otherwise would have been. In contrast, our older TVs and the non-Sonys seemed to work fine.

Every service man in the Lake and Cook counties took a shot at remedying the situation, with shiny new HDMI connectors, pulsating cable boxes and advice to start this or stop that, but nothing worked. Neither Comcast nor our TV installer had much of an explanation. My Google research DID suggest that we weren’t the only ones who had the Sony-Comcast issue, but it was as well hidden as the dark web. And other sufferers had no explanation either.

In desperation, Barb and I returned to Abt on a busy Sunday afternoon. For those of you not in the know, Abt is a family owned appliance store in the northern Chicago suburbs. Everyone shops there. We spoke with a manager who listened patiently and suggested a remedy. He would send out a floor model non-Sony television to temporarily replace one of the balking Sony’s. If that resolved the problem, the store would take back any of the sets we had difficulty with and replace them with new sets, different brands, of our choice and of equal value.

A few days later, we had the temporary replacement. It worked fine, and to our astonishment, all the other new sets now worked too! Maybe our Xfinity system had just failed when working with that many Sony sets. After all, Xfinity is not Infinity. We stopped back at Abt, spoke with our new manager-buddy, and selected the permanent replacement. Of course, we upgraded. And now everything works. A new UltraHDTV for us, a new sale for Abt. Good service and smiles all around.

Scenario #2: The house is almost furnished. But one wall in the loft still needs some bookcases.  After I nixed custom cabinetry from Stan the Cabinet Man, Barb found some workable pieces at IKEA. We worked with a knowledgeable salesman and selected the system we wanted. We chose to have IKEA deliver the pieces and do the assembly and installation as well.

The service company IKEA uses arrived at the prescribed date and time, carried the pieces to the loft, and assembled the bookcases. Then the fun began. Scanning the wall to find studs, they were shocked to find that there were water pipes in the wall. We were NOT shocked since there is a bathroom on the other side of that wall. The delivery/assembly/installation team informed us that IKEA rules prohibited them from drilling into a wall with water pipes. Calls to the delivery company and IKEA confirmed this.

“OK,” we said, “just leave the pieces and we will hire someone else to install them.”  A bit of a bother, but no big deal. “Nope,” they told us, “rules are we have to take these back to the store, where they will probably be thrown out.” Not the first time I have been amazed at the waste of a Scandanavian company!

And the aggravation continues. The next day I spent one hour and 38 minutes (yes, my desk phone has a timer,) on the phone with IKEA customer service, most of the time on hold, trying to arrange for a refund for the product that we did not have. The upshot? It will take weeks, and probably countless hours on hold before the credit appears on my Visa statement. “That,” I was told, “is the way it is.”

Scenario #1 vs Scenario #2. Which store would YOU go back to?

 

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The candidate seemed like a good fit for the position we were advertising. She was a new graduate, had the requisite college degree, and impressed the Human Resources phone screener. She was punctual for her interview, had obviously researched our company online, gave appropriate answers to our questions, and asked the right ones of her own. The reference checks were all positive, and after a bit of salary negotiation, she accepted our offer. We welcomed her to the fold.

The first week seemed to go well. Corporate orientation, the lab orientation, review of our electronic Standard Operating Procedure Manuals, shadowing of co-workers–all the usual. Even a perfect score on our (admittedly simple) open book test on lab techniques. So I was not quite prepared…

I walked into my office at 6:00 a.m. Monday morning. Less than 30 seconds later, she was telling me “I need to tell you that this job is not a good fit for me. I am resigning.” It was an out of the blue stunner. In a bit of a pique, I asked her to leave immediately and let her know NOT to use us a reference. And in a flash, she was gone.

Later that day, after I had cooled off a bit, I emailed to ask her what she meant by “it was not a good fit.” She responded promptly that she had not anticipated that she would have to do the same thing every day. This surprised me, as the duties had been pretty much laid out during the interview process. We are a diagnostic laboratory. Every day we get specimens, every day we process them. Everyone is free to make suggestions for changes in our processes, but the daily requirement doesn’t change.

In retrospect, she was probably over-qualified (my bad) but what entry level job isn’t repetitious or not quite the perfect fit?  The new associate in a law firm does the scut work, a sales person sells every day, the beginning of my pathology residency was autopsy after autopsy. But aren’t those great chances to learn work etiquette, teamwork, and inner resolve?

The same day, I read an article in the New York Times, “On Campus, Failure is in the Syllabus.”   Smith College has found it necessary to teach their students what it means to screw up. Many of them have never had to deal with failure, and just don’t know how. A sequela of the participation trophy era? As I grew up I earned plenty of academic honors but flopped miserably when trying out for any basketball, baseball or football team.  I dealt with it and moved on. It was what you did. It seems students at Smith and other colleges just don’t know about that.

We will interview more candidates. I will be sure to make crystal clear that the job “is what it is.” And I think I will add in a new question. “What have you failed at.” Because there will be days when the specimen delivery is late and the formalin spills and label machine jams. I don’t want it to be the first time our new employee has ever experienced a setback or ever missed a deadline! I will want to know they have the fortitude to keep on going. It’s what you do!

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Ask a gaggle of anatomic pathologists what their most important tool is, and they will almost certainly tell you it is their microscope. Ask them who their most intimate friend is and they may tell you the same thing. We know every metallic curve and protuberance, every knob and dial. Line up five microscopes in the dark and I doubt any of us would have any difficulty identifying our own by feel alone. We have chosen each eyepiece with care and selected the magnification we want on each objective. Those of us who do lots of very high power work such as examining blood smears or bone marrow aspirations do our best to keep the immersion oil we use from infiltrating every crease and crevice, not always with success.

I am on the third ‘scope of my professional career, an Olympus model with an ergonomic head and five different magnifications. It has a video attachment so that I can share my findings with my colleagues and take photographs, but like every pathologist for over one hundred years, I am looking through my eyepieces at an actual glass slide when making my diagnosis. The dimming of that era is beginning. The microscope may be on its way to joining the typewriter and the land telephone line in the Smithsonian Museum Hall of Relics.

There has been much interest in “liquid biopsies,” extracting DNA from a patient’s bloodstream to diagnose cancer and other diseases. Progress has been made, but widespread utilization is still more than a few years away. The change I am talking about is happening now. In April the FDA gave Royal Philips, a Dutch firm, permission to market its Intellisite digital pathology system for primary diagnosis in the US. What is the Intellisite and why could it spell the end to my intense affair with my microscope?

First let us examine how the slide under my microscope objective was made, and how it got to my desk.

• The biopsy tissues we receive are transported to us “fixed” in formalin which prevents deterioration.
• Our histology team then processes the tissue (we use a special laboratory microwave for the processing) to prepare it for paraffin infiltration.
• The tissue is placed in a plastic cassette which is then filled with paraffin wax. The wax also infiltrates deep into the tissue, solidifying it.
• A histotech cuts the tissue block into thin sections, which float on a water bath and are scooped onto a glass slide.
• The slide is stained with a variety of dyes and passed on to the pathologists.
• The pathologist examines the slide under the microscope and determines the proper diagnosis.

So what changes with digital pathology? Virtually nothing, until the end game. Instead of the slide being turned into the pathologist, the digital system photographs the entire slide creating a virtual image that can be seen on a local digital network, or with enough bandwidth, on the Internet. Instead of moving the slide along the flat stage of a microscope, we maneuver the image using a mouse or keyboard. Just like the original glass slide, the virtual image can be viewed at varying magnification.  And just as radiologists can read an x-ray from anywhere in the world, pathologists will have the same ability with digitized slides.

Now that Philips has gotten the OK to market this system, are changes going to happen overnight? Not at all. Radiology changed quickly because it was possible to eliminate x-ray film and go directly to digital images. But as we have seen, in pathology the glass slide must still be prepared, a time and labor intensive operation. Digitizing doesn’t eliminate any of this; it is an additional step. And the equipment won’t be cheap.

Other hurdles? Reading a digitized slide takes some training. I have had the opportunity to examine them in training courses and my comfort level in making a diagnosis definitely doesn’t match the confidence I have with the glass slide on my ‘scope. In addition, state health agencies may restrict how and by whom slides of patients in their states can be read.

The early use of digital will probably be in consultation, seeking an expert opinion on a particularly tough case. Currently, if I want to do that, I package the glass slide and FedEx it to my consultant. Moving the case from the recipient hospital loading dock to the consultant’s desk may add a day or two to the process. An electronic way to send the case eliminates much of this delay. Voila! Instant consultation. There will also be some use in remote hospitals and in small hospitals that are part of larger medical systems but don’t necessarily have pathologists on site.

But for now, I can continue to have a relationship with my microscope. I think she will last as long in this business as I do . Of course, I  said that about my old flip phone too!

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Miss yesterday’s post? Click here: A Dad’s Look at his Daughter’s Wedding.

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We gave Alex our blessing, and I didn’t cry.
We toasted Laury and Alex’s engagement, and I didn’t cry.
We chose the hotel and the band, the florist and the photographer, and I didn’t cry.
We saw Laury model her gown, and I didn’t cry.
We sent invitations to friends and family everywhere, and I didn’t cry.
We counted responses and unpacked gifts, and I didn’t cry.
We picked the menu and planned the seating arrangements, and I didn’t cry.
We rehearsed and watched the video montage, and I didn’t cry.
We dressed and primped, and I didn’t cry.
We posed for the photographer, and I didn’t cry.
We witnessed the Ketubah signing, and I didn’t cry
We lined up for the procession, and I didn’t cry.
We entered the room and took our place by the Chuppah, and I didn’t cry.
We anticipated as the trio began playing “Edelweiss,” and I didn’t cry.
We beamed as Laury walked down the aisle, and I didn’t cry.
We listened to the Rabbi as he married together our daughter and our new son-in-law, and I didn’t cry.
We dined, we danced, and we laughed with our guests, and I didn’t cry.
We gave our toasts and cheered as our son Michael give his, and I didn’t cry.
We “Raised our Glass,” we were elevated by the Horah and we went down low to “Shout,” and I didn’t cry.
We hugged our guests as they left, and I didn’t cry.

All night long I smiled and smiled. And yes, at the end of the night my eyes were still dry. Amidst it all, the celebration, the excitement, the music, and most of all amidst all the love, I just didn’t have room for tears. But maybe I will shed one or two now. Or maybe a whole flood. You never know.

 

 

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