Today on “Meet the Press”: REXIT–The Raff’s to Leave Long Grove, Local Economy Trembles.

Dramatic Theme Music ♬ ♬ ♬

Chuck Todd (CT): Good Morning, This is Chuck Todd welcoming you to our weekly edition of “Meet the Press.” Today we look at the dramatic and perhaps misunderstood decision by the Raff family to cut ties with Long Grove, ending 26 years of intertwined destinies. With me today is my distinguished panel: Bono, lead singer of the Irish rock band U2, Ken “Hawk” Harrelson, the long-time voice of the Chicago White Sox, and Daenerys “Stormborn” Targaryen, First of her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhyonar, and the First Men, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Queen of Meereen, Khalesi, and Mother of Dragons.

CT: Bono, let’s start with you. Did you see this coming? Did you really believe that one of your biggest fans would leave the comfort and familiarity of Long Grove for the unknown, moving to the virtually identical suburb of Riverwoods?

Bono (B): It’s what I have been writing about, singing about, for years. It’s all about love. Why stop loving the people of Long Grove? They must be wearing rose colored glasses if they believe they are heading for something better. Raff’s, why not wrap your neighbors in your arms and move all of them with you? It’s all about love, and album sales and downloads. You must lead with your hearts.

Daenarys Targaryen (DT): Yes. Leadership, that’s what it takes. These Raff”s think of themselves as leaders with their Home Owners Associations and their School Boards. But where are their dragons? Where are the people being burned at the stake? How do you lead when you don’t instill fear in the hearts of your subjects? That is what I want to know.

B: And don’t forget, people anticipating a quick separation will be disappointed. Disentangling from the landscaper, the snowplower, the cleaning lady-that all may take months. And then of course there is Comcast. That may take years.

CT: Mr. Harrelson, what ramifications do YOU see from this vote.

Ken Harrelson (KH): Let me tell you Chuck, back in ’67 when I was with the Red Sox if those owners had tried to trade Yaz, I can tell you there would have been all sorts of an outcry. He was the greatest ball player I ever saw and I saw ’em all going back to the Babe.

CT: I’m sure Hawk, though I don’t think you are THAT old. And what does this have to do with the Raff’s leaving Long Grove?

KH: It’s no different than the way the umpires all disrespect our White Sox. We can never catch a break and…

CT: Moving on, we have a special guest to comment on REXIT. With us on the phone is the presumptive Republican Presidential Candidate Donald Trump.

Donald Trump (Don): Hey Chuck, what’s presumptive about me. I hate that word. I’ve got the nomination all sewn up no matter what crap the delegates try and throw at me. And who’s the chick with aal the hair on the panel with you? Doesn’t she know there is only room for one blonde crackpot here?

DT: Off with his head!

Don: She sounds like Lying Hilary to me! Yeah honey, you can dump those dragons, I’ll show you a hot time.

B: Love, people, just love.

CT: I’m afraid that’s all the time we have today. Join us again next week, and remember, if it’s Sunday, it’s “Meet the Press.”

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Our music contest has ended. The winner of the $25 Amazon Gift Card will be announced in our next post.

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A Progress Report at the Half Way Mark–Will I Get Steamed?

If it takes a year to build a house, then the calendar on the wall tells us we are just about 50% complete. So our glass is both half full and half empty. Let’s take a look at where we are, and where we still need to go.

Work on the outer shell of the house is well beyond the midpoint. The concrete with additional waterproofing? Done. The wood framing with the green Zip System sheathing? Done and done. Masons are progressing well with the exterior stone; the roof shingles are more than 90% installed. All the sleepless nights (Barb’s, not mine) worrying about the best stone and shingle to choose have paid off, the colors and styles blend beautifully. And for those of you following since the beginning, the muntons look swell too.

The interior framing of the house has been completed for weeks. A few walls have been shuffled, with a larger powder room appearing here, a closet melting away there. The design for the stairs leading to the loft space continues to perplex, with Ham and Jeff (you remember our architect Alexander Hamilton and builder Thomas Jefferson) going five rounds in a UFC cage match before agreeing on how many steps need to be above the middle platform and how many below. Working with designer Betsy Ross, we all agreed on a creative “slat” effect for the top of the stairs. We like the way it will allow light from the picture window in the loft to filter down the staircase.

PVC and copper pipes have sprouted on all levels, and sheet metal HVAC ventilation shafts are blooming as well. Routing the ventilation has led to some redesign in the office and the basement, but the changes are improvements, not defects. We also did the first half of our walk through with the electrician, placing outlets and switches. Although these were all on the original blueprints, furniture placement has required some variation. No sweat at this point.

As we toured the master bathroom with the electrician, Barb said to me “This is your last chance for a steam shower. Are you sure you don’t want it?” After a ten minute exposition by designer Betsy on the merits of steam on aging bodies (ours, not hers,) I caved and agreed to go for it. But when Ham and Jeff did some back of the hand calculations and whispered in my ear the cost of adding steam to our shower, I decided I had no problem with a few aches and pains as I age. The steam shower was vaporized.

So here we are, six months down, six months to go. All the behind the scenes work Barb has put in will start paying off soon, as the flooring, light fixtures and appliances that have been selected begin to appear at the construction site. Add in a little landscaping, and we will be partying with all our new, friendly, neighbors before you know it.

The first drink will be on me!

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Am I Cooked? Hot Tea and Other Risks

Oh I like coffee…

…and I like tea

Blues Traveler–1994

Coffee drinkers are rejoicing. A UN study shows no increased cancer risk for java juicers, no matter how many jolts of Joe you go for in a day. So until the next study comes out disputing these findings –give it a week or two–Starbucks, Dunkin’ Donuts, and McDonalds can keep your magic elixir flowing. But for me, the news was not so good.

Other than enjoying an occasional scoop of Baskin-Robbins Jamoca Almond Fudge and a rarer slice of tiramisu, I keep away from coffee. It isn’t the caffeine I am avoiding, I just have under-developed coffee savoring taste buds. But I revealed my little secret here a few months ago. I am a tea tippler (though not a teetotaller.) And I like it hot. Microwave my tea? You have got to be kidding. “Instant” hot water? Not a chance. I require either a steaming tea pot on the stove or my high powered electric kettle to give me the boiling brew I crave.

And that’s the problem. The UN study points at the temperature of beverages as a risk factor for cancer. Drinks over 150° F appear to be the culprit, and here I am gulping down about 6 cups of tea a day, as close to 212° as humanly or mechanically possible. I have accepted the risk of a burned lip or a scalded tongue, but am I really ready to increase the chances of esophageal carcinoma? I choose to believe my non-smoking and less than average alcohol imbibing life style make the risk of esophageal cancer pretty low. Add in the lack of family risk factors and I think I am safe enjoying my cups of tea.

Prostate disease is a different matter. Knowing I have the genetic risk factor, I do occasionally consider how my diet effects my chances of prostate cancer. Tomatoes seem to have some preventive effect, validating my love of pizza and a good Caprese Salad. All the other fruits and vegetables I munch on also may also offer some protection. It would be beneficial if I could once more wean myself from red meat, but I returned to that indulgence many years ago. At least we have replaced beef hamburgers at home with Barb’s 5 Star turkey burgers, and I haven’t seen the inside of McDonalds for years. If only I could give up those tasty, garlicky, SuperDawgs.

While we are talking prostate cancer, just a plug for the SEABlue Prostate Cancer Awareness Run on September 11 in Lincoln Park. Donations are still gratefully accepted. Just click on the link. You will have my thanks!

Donate to SEABlue.

Also–our easy music quiz is still going on! Don’t miss a chance to win an Amazon Gift Card.
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The Curse of the Clumsy

“Move, move, move!” I shouted out. Yes, it was an over-reaction, but it got through to Barb. She quickly slid out of of the deli booth at which we were just settling into our soup. She was just swift enough to escape being deluged by the drink sluicing from the glass I had knocked over. Tea and ice cubes now covered the banquette Barb had been sitting on, but she was still immaculate. The wait staff quickly hustled us over to another table, refilled my glass, and our dinner continued unhampered. My quick alert had prevented the damage that my clumsy hands had almost caused.

But there is no denying it, I am a klutz. I am a butteringers, a stumbler, a clod. It is a fact of my life, one that my loved ones and colleagues have to accept and deal with. That fancy microscope I bought last year? At least monthly a turn of my head has sent it crashing to the ground, my glasses landing right between the eyepieces. Those bruises on my elbows? A trip over the pavement at the end of my run. Was it because the pavement was crumbling or uneven? No, I was just gliding along until my toe got tangled in a non-existent crack. I have catapulted into duck ponds and crashed into walls of tennis courts. But I don’t want to believe this curse is all my fault. And when looking for something to blame, turn to scientific research!

So I asked Google Search to tell me what causes clumsiness. The only widely circulated study into the topic tested college students and found that “clumsy” people have depressed reaction time. But that doesn’t feel quite right to me. That makes it sound like us klutzes move in slow motion. In fact it is just the opposite. My hands, my head, my feet–they all seem to be moving at hyperspeed when those little crashes happen. The study does say that focusing on a task can reduce clumsiness, but it takes a lot of conscious effort to slow all those moving parts down, and at the end of the day, who wants to think that hard?

Barb, in her therapy lingo, says I have a “figure-ground” problem, a perception issue which makes it hard to separate objects from the background. Her theory also explains why I can never find the spatula in the kitchen gadget drawer. Hmm, an inability to separate objects from their background. Just what you want your pathologist to be plagued with when he’s looking through his microscope, mentally trying to separate the good cells from the bad. How did I wind up making a pretty successful career out of this?

So I stumble along, never knowing when I will take the next tumble or send the next glass of wine crashing to the floor. But at least my family knows. When I yell “Move,” they get moving!

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Am I a Homophobe?

Three connected events:

One of the most tragic incidents in contemporary American history occurred early Sunday morning in Orlando. 49 people slaughtered in a nightclub. Some, most, or all of the victims were gay. All of the victims were people who did not deserve to die at that time or that place. Their loss will be felt by 49 families, 49 groups of friends, 49 communities.
Sunday night Broadway held a celebration, the annual Tony Awards. It was a spectacular show, though tinged with sadness as evidenced by the comments of the host, several presenters and several awardees.
On Monday morning, inspired by the success of Hamilton and its rap framework, I published a blog, a little doggerel, saluting the Tony awards. Eight short verses, tagging a few of the honored shows and big names of the night; James Corden, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Barbara Streisand. I did not mention the Orlando tragedy.

For item number 3, I have been labelled a homophobe, and I am stunned. I thought about including a reference to the shooting ion the blog. But I do not have the talent to include such a serious, deadly event in light verse that was meant to leave readers smiling and tapping their feet. Perhaps I was insensitive not to have a closing paragraph, in prose not in rap, expressing my sadness at the needless loss of life. But I don’t comprehend how my omission warranted the application of a label denoting “irrational fear of, aversion to, or discrimination against homosexuality or homosexuals” (Merriam-Webster On Line Dictionary.)

Some of the victims I didn’t write about were women. I don’t think I am a misogynist. Some of the victims I didn’t write about were Hispanic. I don’t think I am a xenophobe. I also did not write a blog about the terrorist shootings in Tel Aviv last week. I know I am not anti-Semitic. The useless tossing of names and slanders does nothing to bring about understanding and healing. It lowers each of us, just as it lowers a Presidential candidate.

You will each make your own judgement about me, about my blog, about whether you will continue to read. And I appreciate that most of you will give me a fair shake. That’s all I ask for.

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American Ninja Warrior-Presidential Style

American Ninja Warriors is back! A new season began yesterday, and boy are we excited! What, you don’t watch the the TV show with all the young, toned, bodies going through an incredibly difficult obstacle course, with stations such as the Warped Ramp and the Jumping Spider? Get through the course, make it to the next round, and maybe you can compete at Mount Midoriyama to become an American Ninja Warrior Champion. Barb and I were watching last night, cheering along with the live audience as breathless announcers Matt Iseman and Akbar Gbaja-Bioamilia and obligatory female sideline reporter Kristine Leahy made it feel like we were watching Game 7 of the Lebron-Steph match up.

The contestants come from all walks of life-soldier, school teacher, Eskimo. But I think the ANW producers are missing the boat. So with apologies to NBC and the Esquire Network, I present you with “American Ninja Warriors–The Race for the White House.”

MI: Good evening Ninja lovers. We have a real special show for you tonight. Three contestants, battling on our custom course, mano a mano, mano a womano, as they fight for the Presidential prize.

AGB: And what super special contestants we have tonight, Matt! We have rookies and veterans, testosterone and estrogen, great hair and not so great hair, but each of these has been preparing for over a year now for this challenge.

MI: That’s right Akbar. And in a new twist to our ANW format, each contestant will go through a DIFFERENT set of obstacles. At the end, we’ll see who really has enough to be our American Ninja Warrior President. Here is our first contestant, he started as the real long shot, Senator BERNIE SAAAAAANDERS! Bernie is racing out to his personalized course, throngs of screaming college students chanting “Bernie Bernie!” And here’s his first obstacle, the No One Wants a Socialist for President Long Jump. Bernie races to the edge of the pond he needs to leap across, pushes off, and flies through the sky.

AGB: Look out Matt, I think he going to fall short. Don’t get soaked by his splash landing! Kristine, what does Senator Sanders have to say?

KL: He is in shock, Akbar. But before he passed out he told me he will be back in four years, tougher than ever. Ya gotta love the spirit.

MI: Thanks for that insight Kristine. Hear that cheer? Yes, the Donald has arrived on his personal obstacle course. And there he goes, shooting past the first challenge the Giant Hair Brush, leaping from bristle to bristle with ease. Now he is on to the Wacky Wall climbing hand over hand while Department of Immigration officers shoot tranquilizer darts at him. And he is over the top, he is over the top! He is heading for the Women Hate Him Sexist Swamp. He has to swim through all that muck and the slop, what a disgusting mess.

AGB: Oh no, he is going down, I don’t think he is going to make it out of that morass! Let’s see what he has to say Kristine!

KL: Mr. Trump has collapsed, but before he did he invited me to his dressing room. Ya gotta love that spirit.

Crowd Noise: “Hillary, Hillary!”

MI: Here she is, the ladies choice, Hillary Clinton! And there she goes. Slithering past the Server Snake Steps. And she is just flying over the Sharply Falling Poll Vault.

AGB: But oh no! She is being buffeted by the Benghazi Bullet Brigade. I think she is going down. Kristine, what does it look like from the sidelines?

KL: Secretary Clinton has slipped into unconsciousness from blood loss. But before she closed here eyes she told me she was nominating husband Bill to run in her place. Ya gotta love that spirit!

MI: That ends this weeks episode of ANW-White House. No winners tonight, but be sure to tune in next week when Joe Biden, Mitt Romney and Elizabeth Warren battle it out to be the next American Ninja Warrior President!

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Ten Good Reason I Donated Blood–Which One Works For You?

Give Blood…

…But don’t expect to ever see reward.

Pete Townsend-1986

I dropped a pint Tuesday afternoon. 500 ml of rich red A Positive, ready to be tested, packaged, and split off into a variety of components–red blood cells, plasma, platelets. I will barely notice it is gone, but a few strangers will benefit. To paraphrase an old Doritos ad “Take all you want, I’ll make more.”

What are my reasons for getting out to donate blood a few times a year? Here are 10:

Blood Centers don’t pay for volunteer donations, but sometimes there is a surprise inside. This time I received a coupon for a pint of Baskin-Robbins Ice Cream. A pint of red cells for a pint of Jamoca® Almond Fudge is the deal of the week.
Sometimes the donation can open a whole new world. My donation on the 10th anniversary of 9/11 earned free admission to the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY. My friend who decided at the last minute he wasn’t eligible to donate was gifted with free admission too, just for thinking about it. Rest assured he has paid for that free admission with half a decade of verbal abuse.
My first boss, Dr. Earl Suckow, was a founder of North Suburban Blood Center, a progenitor of what has become Lifesource. Old Earl had a rough edge to him, and he has been gone for many years, but I never donate without thinking of him.
I have a fantasy that Ed McMahon will suddenly appear and hand me a $20,000,000 check for being the 10,000th donor of the year. The chances of this fantasy coming true are in no way diminished by the fact Mr. McMahon has been dead since 2009.
Donating a unit of whole blood is a snap. I have donated some other components in the past, and that can be a bit rough, but a simple unit of Raff Red, Vintage 2016? Easy.
At the donor center you are shown a list of exotic countries that have exotic blood borne diseases. These are places the CDC probably doesn’t want you to visit. Good to know when planning your next vacation.
A pound of body weight flows right out your arm.
Little Debbie Snack Cakes on the post donation refreshment table! So much for #7.
That one pint is enough blood for Theranos Lab and its CEO Elizabeth Holmes to run approximately 3 quintillion lab tests using the revolutionary Edison Technology. Of course all the results will be wrong.
I feel great, knowing you have helped someone, somewhere recover from surgery or battle a chronic illness. I can wear the “I Gave Blood Today” sticker with pride.

If any of my reasons strike a chord, sign up the next time a Blood Center road show comes to town. And feel free to comment below on the reasons why YOU donate.

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How to Become a Baa-Baa: A Grandpa’s Tale

What’s in a name? I blogged a while ago that I have never had a nickname. It is as glaring deficit in my personal history as not having a tattoo would be for today’s millennials. Somehow, I have learned to live as “Les”. And my full name,”Lester”, has taken on a bit of a cache since Leicester City, F.C. won its remarkable 5000-1 championship in the British Premier League Football. Yes, “Leicester” is pronounced “Lester” (and “British Premier League Football” is pronounced “Soccer.”)

But now I have a special name! I have had it for a several months, and like most special names it is one that no one could predict. What makes it super-special is that it came from my granddaughter Hannah. I am proud to be Baa-Baa.

It is always fun to guess what children will call their grandparents. When Hannah was a newborn, Barb and I played that game. Barb was hoping for “GlamMa”, defined by Urban Dictionary as “the new Grandma, a woman with a sense of self and style. ” Yes, that would fit Barb. I had no special preference, but we both agreed that we did want to be Bubbie and Zaydie, names we still feel are a little too old school.

So how did I become Baa-Baa? Every Friday morning while Barb is baby-sitting for Hannah the three of us spend a few minutes Face Timing. On one of those morning calls I gave Hannah an iPhone tour of my office, including the row of bobble heads on a high shelf above my microscope. There was a one-armed Robin Ventura, a stern Carlton Fisk, Detroit Tiger star Miguel Cabrera, and even White Sox groundskeeper Roger Bossard. Hannah was fascinated as I bounced their heads up and down. Soon all our Friday calls started with Hannah calling out for the bobble heads. “Baa-Baa, Baa-Baa” was her greeting to me. And that’s what I became. Not Robin, or Carlton, or Miggie–but I will take Baa-Baa any time.

As for Barb, both of Hannah’s grandmas became Na-Na. But now that Hannah is a little older and wants to differentiate between her two wonderful grandmothers, Barb has become Na-Na-Baa-Baa. It works!

While on family matters, just a reminder that I will be making my annual run for prostate cancer awareness and support, in honor of my late father, in the SEABlue Prostate Cancer Run/Walk. I ask all my family, friends and casual readers to support this cause. You can sponsor my run by clicking here: Support Les’s Run. I already have a great start at reaching my goal, but there is still a long way to go. Thanks for any contributions, and please mention on the link that you heard about the Run/Walk here.

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Virtual Prizes for Virtual Contests-White Sox, WXRT and Donald Trump

Feelin’ Groovy!

59th St. Bridge Song

Simon and Garfunkle-1966

Remember Sarah Palin’s “Bridge to Nowhere”? It was a convoluted tale that garnered a lot of attention when the Alaska Governor was selected as John McCain’s running mate in the 2008 Presidential election. Since than Madame Palin has had the career to nowhere, but that is a story for another day. But do bridges to nowhere lead to “contests to nothing?” Two of my favorite local media outlets have gone that route.

Even though I grew up on the North Side (Rogers Park to be precise), I have spent my life a diehard White Sox fan. And like many White Sox fans, the past few years have been dreary, dreary, dreary. Whether the fault has been lackadaisical players, a too laid back manager, or too many Ken Harrelson “Hawkisms”, watching the beloved Pale Hose on the tube has been a type of torture specifically outlawed by the Geneva Convention. This year has been a breath of fresh air as new players Todd Frazier and Brett Lawrie have had a spring in their step, Robin Ventura has suddenly remembered to manage, and most importantly, there has been a new voice in the White Sox TV booth. Jason Benetti is now the Sox play-by-play man for home games. Paired with color announcer Steve Stone, Benetti has brought a lively new spirit to the broadcast. They have also brought a new contest, the aptly named “White Sox Math”. It’s a daily contest with problems such as “Multiply Jose Abreu’s uniform number by Jimmy Rollin’ s strikeouts in 2005 and then add Chris Sales career saves.” If you are a total stats geek or happen to have the Baseball Almanac handy, you will of course quickly arrive at the answer of 5621. And your prize for having all that information rattling around in your brain? A trip to the “Virtual Prize Shelf”. That’s virtually–nothing!

Not to be outdone, or perhaps underdone, my favorite radio station WXRT has a contest of its own. Every morning at about 6:40 Lin Brehmer and Mary Dixon host “Three for Free.” Tweet in the correct answer to their audio quiz about the celebrity of the day and you can win exactly…nothing!

Yet somehow there I am watching the White Sox with my calculator in hand, or intently listening to Lin and Mary’s musical clues. And since there is a winner every day, I suppose I am not the only one willing to put out all that effort for nothing. So I suggest a few more contests with prizes of questionable value:

Volkswagen will give a new diesel car to the first correct answer in their “Predict Our Next Estimated Mileage Report” challenge.
Elon Musk will present a hyperloop ride from Wrigley Field to the Cell to the winner of the “Who Can Predict How Long the Tesla Model 3 Will Be Delayed” contest.
The Department of Transportation will give a TSA job to the first person who–well, basically to anyone. No contest entry needed.
The Republican National Committee wants to award the Vice Presidential nomination to the first voter to provide Donald Trump with a foreign policy. Send the RNC your plan, single spaced, with a self addresses, stamped envelope and prepare to go to Cleveland.

And of course, just by reading this, you are entered into my contest to win–nada. Happy trails!

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photo credit: Footbridge via photopin (license)

Walgreens and Mental Health–Better Luck This Time?

Chicago locals take pride in Walgreens, the big ole pharmacy chain that got started way back in 1901. There actually was a Mr. Walgreen back then, and the chain slowly expanded through the Chicago area. Walgreens’ international headquarters are still close by–I drive past them in Deerfield just about every day. But Walgreens is a lot more than the corner pharmacy these days.

You may remember the Theranos nightmare; I have written about it a few times. Theranos was the clinical laboratory started by Elizabeth Holmes, the clone formed by a pseudo mating of Steve Jobs and Bill Gates. Her concept, to perform a wide range of blood testing from a finger prick, was going to revolutionize the laboratory world, and Walgreens was going to be her partner! Somehow Walgreens, a multi-billion dollar firm, fell for the hype of an unproven, untested methodology. I imagine the embarrassment that must have been felt by the Walgreen’s Board and CEO when Theranos started failing quality and accreditation inspections left and right. Neither Walgreens nor Silicon Valley did a very good vetting job before turning Theranos into a unicorn.

But Walgreens is marching on. In a press release yesterday the company announced its commitment to mental health. Through a series of new links in a section on its website,

“Walgreens can help connect people to free, scientifically based online screenings for a number of conditions, including depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, PTSD and others.”

Thank heavens this time Walgreens is going for “scientifically based” processes! I admit I don’t know as much about mental health issues as I do about laboratory science. But I have seen family members and friends stricken with crippling depression and bipolar disorder. I also have friends and relatives who are mental health professionals. I hope that those professionals, and the mental health community as a whole, will examine the Walgreens’ web site and determine if the tools that are presented really do help in self-identification of patients with mental health disorders, and that the site is also useful in getting those people the help they need. I’m crossing my fingers that this time the results are positive. Walgreens doesn’t need another failure (Laury has a few shares of their stock) and neither do the people they are trying to help.

In another health related matter, I have tabulated the results to my non-scientific (there, I admit it) insurance poll from a few weeks ago. Most of my readers pay significantly more for health care coverage than they did previously and have also seen cut backs in their coverage. That mirrors our own family. I still believe in many facets of the Affordable Care Act, but I know that “affordable” may not have been the most appropriate moniker.
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