Our Professional Disaster, and Other Opinions

Okay...get ready for another one:

By now, we have heard and seen the sadness of yet another tragedy in this world. The sinking of the "Sewol," a South Korean ferry that has left nearly 300 people still missing. Even sadder, nearly all the passengers on this particular voyage were high schoolers headed for a field trip to an island.

Ferry disasters are not uncommon in this part of the world. It is too soon to tell exactly what happened: it appears that the vessel struck a reef or something, listed sharply to port and sank very fast. Boats like those are not built with the watertight integrity of modern ocean liners; belowdecks is cargo area and space for vehicles.

You can imagine the damage the boat took, and how quickly things changed.

From what we also know (from the sad and eerie messages texted from some who didn't get out), the passengers were told to stay put. An order to abandon ship did not come for 35 minutes, and survivors say they never heard it.

Staying put at first is standard procedure. You don't want to start a panic and a stampede, I get that. Efforts to correct the list failed; only then, did the order get made to abandon.

That seems to be about the size of it all. Now, why am I going on about it?

The media coverage, which I have tried to avoid apart from the sources that I felt more trustworthy. While I do not understand the language, I watched the Korean Broadcasting Network's coverage online. They did special coverage, and as I note below, they ran it in an interesting way.

They run like a PBS station, or Japan's NHK. A very professional, low-key and proper presentation. NPR would be the same way, as would the BBC. Yes, I am biased, I am part-time employed by an NPR affiliate, but I know how they work.

I know how the other side works, too. 

I made a point of keeping an eye on how the Beeb, NHK, and the Asian networks handled the matter. They have done it for the most part with confidence in themselves, calmness, and yes...PROFESSIONALISM.

Something lost on far too many of my colleagues.

Now, I was prompted to write this and include comments I made on this site:

http://www.cbc.ca/news/world/south-korea-ferry-prosecutors-seek-arrest-warrant-for-captain-1.2614660

Commenters are furious over the CBC's usage of footage, photos, etc. They are getting in a lather over it. Well, they have got some justification, I see it.

They don't watch much American TV, I don't bet. Look at what we have, and what our broadcast media has mostly degenerated into.

I do not mean to sound like an old guy, nor do I wish to slag my colleagues, but I'm not impressed with even the veteran behaviors exhibited by people you'd think had more of an idea of how to act before a camera.

I'm putting the finger on the TV side, which I don't have much experience in, but have enough to know.

Here's what I wrote (whether or not they'll permit its use, I don't know):

"Look, I fully understand the complaints you have, regarding the use of the grief of the families who are still wondering if their loved ones are alive. I would feel as devastated as they. If you think the CBC is bad (not to defend them), I suggest you watch American cable networks if you can stomach it. 

I work in this media. I agree, we all too often use the suffering of others for our own egos, gain, ratings, etc. That's why I don't work in television. In a 24/7 news cycle you are going to see the same stories and the same footage, over and over again. The days of the six o'clock news with the National or what have you at seven, with a ten o'clock update are long gone. That's why you see the recycling. There just is not enough content to fill it all. 
 
Now...I have watched the Korean Broadcasting Network's coverage. They were going with special coverage during the unfolding events, but they get high marks for professionalism, and keeping their emotions in check. They did damned well. Same for NHK and the BBC; they did not go "wall to wall" with coverage. In comparison, CNN's obsession with the Malaysian airline disaster shows how bad we can get. 
 
I've spent 30 years in this business folks...I don't like the way it's gone anymore than you. I cringe every time I see a cable news host lose their s--t and do what their bosses tell them to, and whore themselves with emotional ranting, and blame-tossing. And yes, they will do anything they can to stir emotions and keep people watching. 
 
The last two generations of "media people" (my term) are largely a bunch of smart-assed little brats who have grown up on talk radio, fake reality TV and Fox News. They think this is news. Most of these kids wouldn't last 15 minutes in a proper newsroom. Today, I can name colleagues whom I like as people, and who have the tools but don't get the application. We call them, "Book Smart, Street Stupid." 

This is how it is. If you do not like it, let them know, and not just on a comment board where no one is paying attention. It would also do to stop watching that s--t. I grew up near the Canadian border, and I always admired the way the news was presented. To some extent, I still hear it being done well. 
 
Forgive my going off, because I hope you understand why things are done the way they are. Honestly, if I were in charge, I might well use some of the same footage you are complaining about, because it does help tell the story. All the time? No, probably not. 
 
That all said, I remain saddened by the stories of those people who are lost and their families. We can't imagine their grief unless we've lived through it. Don't think we in the business like these stories: we don't! We would love nothing better than to just tell you about mundane, and yes, even boring happenings. 
 
Like your countrywoman sang, "A little good news," yes, we'd rather do that."

Well, there you have it: our own addiction to knowing everything right this minute, and the pressure we face to get it out there, right here, right now and without delay.

We don't have the resources, folks. We don't have the money, we don't make the revenue to do it the way you think it should be done. Absent of that, I know people in newsrooms who work their asses off day in and day out to do it "right." Even if they don't get it first, and it's not breaking news anymore.

Too many in this business do it in a way that is wrong: "GET THE STORY FIRST, BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY. WHO CARES IF IT'S INACCURATE? THE PUBLIC HAVE SHORT-TERM MEMORIES, THEY'LL FORGET."

No, actually they won't. And they don't. They don't forget when we fuck up. Whether or not they actually turn away, well, that's another matter for debate.

Guess the thing I'm getting at is: do you think we have too much of it? It's up to us to decide to turn it off, and come to it when we need or want it.

As it stands today, I am on the edge of this business. I am outside looking in, for the most part. What I do makes a difference in small ways, and I am thankful that what I do provides a service. A real one: if you want it, it's there. If not, that's cool, because you may not need it.

Addiction. Yes, we are addicted to some pretty crazy things. News (mostly which confirms our own ideas), so-called Entertainment, brain-numbing shows, and obsessively watching every move so-called celebrities make. Though for the latter, most of them really don't do anything I would consider to be that spectacular.

In the end of this...it may seem a rather unusual step away from the topic, but here it is. We lost one of the great authors of our past century. Gabriel Garcia Marquez left us at the age of 87. The key adjective to describe his work is "imaginative." He mixed real life (much of it around his native Colombia) with fantasy. Imagination...not something you need to live by, but something to make you think and give you a little of what we all need. Not too much, but enough.

We all need to think about it, really think about what is important. I am trying to shed light on this for you. While I also try to figure out how much I need...and don't want.

Thoughts for the day, and hopefully for a bit longer while I sort out my own issues. My own writings are not meant to shake foundations and destroy worlds; they have their own place, and I hope to live long enough to see the day that stories like "Parasite Girls" get their day. I'd like to know what readers think, and hear it in their words. That would be a bigger payoff than money.

Okay...let's hope for a little better in the coming days.

Peace, Outta Here...

"A Moment in the Sun," and Where Do We Go from Here?

Greetings, one and all...I have returned to the blogosphere after hopefully catching my breath, and figuring out just where the hell I have been the past weeks.

I have never been much for diaries, though I do still have a leather-bound journal full of multi-colored scratchings from about ten years ago. Why I keep it, I have no idea. The things you find when you are digging around in the hoard/closet.

I don't know if this is counts as spring cleaning, but I decided to drag a pair of bookshelves from my closet into my bedroom. And no, I didn't remove the books. That's just how I am.

So anyway, I then spent the better part of the past two late nights re-sorting my books, as sort of a literary "High Fidelity" scene. I don't have enough space in the room to put all my books there. So I have to figure out what I don't need/want at hand, and put those back in the closet. Weird, I know.

Interesting to see a lot of these again...I do realize though, a bunch of these are headed for one of those big metal dumpster/dropoff things. I have to do it, not much choice in the matter.

So yeah...the past few weeks have found me busy here:

http://www.geotraffic.com/

This is my new company...I am back to being a traffic reporter, and we're on a new platform with a different target. This has a future, I feel and we're taking the small steps forward to get us where we need to go. I'm back in broadcasting of a sort, what can I say?

To use a MASH reference: this is "meatball surgery." There is no finesse in this art, it is grunt work, but it is work that requires some smarts, common sense, and an ability to think on your ass...because we're sitting.

I am also back to driving long distances. I've done this before...back in the starving, struggling days of the early 90's, I drove a Dodge Lancer to its death (at least three times) when going from Watertown to Hyannis to do a $5 an hour job, because...I wanted to be broadcaster.

The dream job of 2004-09, XM saw me drive from York, PA to Washington, DC and back, five days a week or more, for all that time. Now I'm driving a similar time frame but a few less miles.

Why?

I like where I live...I know, I swore up and down I was going to get the fuck out of York and never return. Then I realized where the new job was. I didn't like that area the first time I worked there...I still don't like it.

This is better, and so it is.

Now...about this:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1494401975/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1494401975&linkCode=as2&tag=coverscroll-20

I know, I have to shamelessly plug. I am writing this just after making a sale to a friend of mine of "Parasite Girls." Sales are slloooooowwww...how it is. Also, had a long Facebook chat with a dear friend who told me what was "wrong" culturally with the book. And of course, she was right.

I do not think any of these things are terrible errors, but I understand them. I did my best to get it right...it's kind of like this: when I edited and edited, and did everything I thought I could possibly do to get it right, I finally had to say, "Enough!"

You can only do so much. I think it turned out well and I'm happy with it.

Here then, comes my dilemma: what do I do next?

Ihttp://www.wattpad.com/39695970-a-moment-in-the-sun

This is the first chapter (rough cut) of "A Moment in the Sun." Wattpad is a social media/writing site that is new to me, and I'm trying it out as a means to get some new audience in the mix.

You can also read this, and much more at www.behance.net/torygates

Anyway..."A Moment in the Sun" was written at the beginning of this year. It came quickly; this could be the step up I need.

Here's the deal..."Parasite Girls" became the test case for my writing. It is straight fiction; "Moment..." is fiction, but as the main characters are all teenagers, it can be considered a crossover to Young Adult, which is what I mostly write.

Half-step, maybe?

The story is fully set in Japan, and again I touch on a phenomena which is not unique to that part of the world, this time. Here is the story that inspired it:

http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-23182523

Now in this story is referenced a manga, "Welcome to the NHK." I got the first volume, and I was not terribly impressed by it. The storyline was too typical, and did not touch enough on why the main character was hikikomori. Didn't explain it well.

I had a couple of ideas on what to do with this, but then "Moment..." made its way into my brain and would not leave.

A close friend of mine read the first chapter aloud from my Behance site...her husband said that sounded good.

Hmmm...

Not long ago, I described the story aloud to another friend. She was busy clearing her desk and doing that kind of work, but her ears pricked up. She said, "That's the one."

I wonder...it is a specific story, a few more characters than "Parasite Girls," but easy enough to follow. 

I think this is the best step up. Then, following this I can again do a full-blooded YA story, which likely will be "The Drifters."

What is happening here is that I feel in a hurry. I feel like I have got to get these out, but I cannot throw money into the creation of a project, then jump to the next. It just does not work.

I am promoting "Parasite Girls," and once I get off weekends, then I can really do that. Each of these projects is time-consuming. I have talked about how "PG" took a full year to realize. Yes, it did. I'd already written it; but then what followed was every single thing you need to do to make it real.

I am also again trying to find a publisher/agent...it's worth trying now, because I have a book in hand. Here's the next one, and the next one, and the next one...better risk I'd say.

Staying the course, being patient, keeping myself somewhat together. Yeah, I have to do it. There's no time for worrying, I have to just keep on doing all these things.

The shit ain't over yet.

"The Stranger" -- That Would Be Me

I am sitting in the cafe of a place that is not my usual one; I finally crawled from the wreckage of a 22-hour workday, and am not in a celebratory mood.

I turned 48 yesterday, which is kind of a strange number. Forgive me, but I don't feel old anymore, not at all. I am not in the shape I once was when I leapt into audiences during my days in a certain theatre production, but at least I still have some ability to get about. Mentally, my capacity is not what it once was, but I can still think reasonably quickly.

We are at a very exciting period in my potential rest of my life--without naming names or going into details, I had a pair of job interviews that went well in recent days. I feel very positive one or the other might just be the one, and some stability of a sort can return.

I am not one to worry about this, because I don't need to. I have enough else to worry about!

As soon as next week (I hope), my first book, "Parasite Girls" will be ready for release. It is pretty much now--the manuscript is done for the final time, Mitch Bentley's cover is brilliant in its color and capture of a certain character's creative mania, and I've got most of the details done.

We just need to connect dots, threads and related stuff, and I will be a published author.

Don't congratulate me yet--I need to get this last part accomplished. Then I can feel better about it.

Navigating the world of the ebook, cyberspace and a digital realm I know little about is daunting. I have to plug, shamelessly and I have to figure out how I'm going to make this work stand out.

First plug: http://www.behance.net/torygates

Go there, and you'll find draft cuts of "Parasite Girls," plus potential follow-up work I'm at right now. You'll see everything else about my mad "careers."

I honestly think without arrogance that I have written a good story. I didn't have the space I wished I had to dig deeper into some of the self-destructive tendencies of a couple of the characters. There's what I could do with what space and time I had, and the flow is crucial.

My style has changed, and that's why a lot of things have not been released. My method is not the same, either. I am also of the belief that eventually I have to tackle the most difficult assignment of my writing life...me.

I for some reason keep putting off getting things that I want to read, probably because I'm afraid of being too unduly influenced. I can be. My walk through this place spits horrendous things at me, and they leap out, leer and snarl at me with tentacles that have only evil going on.

How hard it is for me to look at the shelves without thinking, and this is not exactly kind:

"I WRITE BETTER THAN 95% OF THIS SHIT!"

Really...50 Shades of (fill in the blank with your favorite color). How many knockoff versions of that are there?

Books with titles that play on other titles, and not in a satirical or humorous way? Examinations and re-examinations classic works, that are in my mind meant to trade off the name without actually doing anything?

Now, I will admit that a parody work of "Downton Abbey" is going to be damned funny, I bet. "Downtrodden Abbey," written in what reminds me of the Harvard Lampoon's trashing of Tolkien, with "Bored of the Rings."

Cleverness and a nasty little jab here and there doesn't bother me. Ripping off someone with your own version of something that makes fan fiction look brilliant in comparison, well, bleah.

Am I arrogant and egomaniacal enough to think "Parasite Girls" stacks up well against anything out there? I think it is a good story--a smooth read, only a few major characters, and a touching upon issues and concerns that are real. Things that happen in society that are real, whether you want to admit it or not.

Not the heaviest thing I ever did, and not in the Young Adult genre I normally do, but it is a start and I think a good one.  

An excerpt:

http://www.behance.net/gallery/Parasite-Girls-Excerpt-2/10641913

Rough cut, this scene has been re-written. The lyrics to "Blade" are my own.

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/torygates

Oh, look it's me--well, not the best thing to look at, but I can live with that for now. Its not a bad profile, and the picture is not that old. 

Around the time of my birthday, just missed Samhain I did I tend to get introspective. I think about the past year, what I am trying to do, where my direction is headed, and all that shit.

Sorry, I just don't feel the need to say, "Oh, never mind--is NASCAR/Oprah/SOMEFUCKINGHIDEOUSREALITYSHOW on yet?" 

Or, "Oh, never mind--let's go shopping."

THIS is as close to shopping as I ever get. I have on my table before me a strange manga by Nico Tanigawa. Part research material, part a look at me back in the past...I shudder to think that I might just have been that girl on the cover. That introverted, that messed up...ei.

The other is Albert Camus' "The Stranger." The BBC marked Camus' coming 100th birthday early this morning with a partial reading. I had to get this.

Yes, I'm easily fucking led, I know.

But the narrative is darkly brilliant, isn't it? If you have read "The Stranger" or any of his stuff, there is a method and a way that few can catch up with. 

And here is the key: Camus PUTS YOU IN HIS SHOES. YOU SIT IN HIS CHAIR. YOU ARE HIM, AS HE TELLS HIS STORY.

Perfect, without it seems hardly trying.

"The Stranger" has a central point, a Frenchman who for no real reason guns down an Arab on a deserted beach. The Cure did a song called "Killing an Arab," which I believe was about this story.

I am not arrogant about being my own Stranger. I must be that odd character other people see, that one who sits alone and writes, stares at his computer, reads, drinks a lot of coffee. I don't personally care whether people wonder about me or not; I would not turn you away, unless you either come onto me with a need to meet Jesus, or start talking shit about things like I'm your friend...and we've never met.

I did make a pitch just now for "Parasite Girls" to a young lady at the table next to me. I think she was just being polite, but did say she'd look at the Behance page. 

That's the kind of thing I have to do. I have to engage people, and I'm not good at it. I need to not be afraid to sell the idea, without selling my soul. 

But I have a story to tell, and I must tell it. I must tell all the other crazy stories you see on the Behance page, and ever more that I must rewrite, edit, fix and make real.

I got quite a job ahead of me. A real job (haha) might get in the way, but that's not what it's about. 

I am still driven, at 48 to work in broadcasting, to write, to make music, to create. I have to do it--not for money, fame, etc. I do it because I want to.

Now...I am NOT one of these people who is going to remain inside a box and decry the materialistic whatever that drives other people. Should I become a person of means once more, I will make absolutely no fucking apologies for it, thank you very much.

If not, at least I fucking did it.

Ei...I must now actually read some of this, and find out if the Stranger and I have anything else we can talk about. Better than this, I'd say.

Peace, Out.

Boston...Breathe...

I feel very unable to do much of anything right now.  

I was driving home from a workout when WITF/NPR reported what was going on.  I will not say I could not believe it; because I could.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-22160978

The link is BBC America's live coverage and it is working.  Local service in Boston is pretty much shut down, and sites are jammed.  Sites here in America have their issues with it as well.

So far, the Beeb is doing a very calm, measured job at covering the matter.  We are hearing from reporters and others at the site, and what strikes me about it is how calm people are.  They are not putting distraught people on the air for maximum whatever.

I won't give you figures, because they are going to change.  I do hope there are no more than the two deaths reported.

I felt a strange feeling of dread all day; things were just strange.  I had no idea why.

I am a native of New England, and I lived in Boston for nearly ten years.  I know Boylston Street, the site of the explosions very well.  I walked and/or drove down that street many times, though I never was there for the marathon events.

Today, for those who don't know is Patriots Day.  It is a Massachusetts state holiday; the Marathon runs, the Red Sox play an game at Fenway Park with an 11 am first pitch.  It is supposed to be a day of celebration.

From my own experience of being in newsrooms when things like this happen, believe me when I say that the media (at least...the media I WAS TRAINED FOR) does NOT want to report these things.  

I cannot speak for the new generation of alleged media, and those who have replaced many of my colleagues and me in newsrooms and out there in cyberspace.

I have seen the footage, and honestly?  The marathon has been considered a target for a long time; the one in NY and in Boston as well.

From what I have heard and seen, it appears security was in force and reacted quickly and professionally.  For them, we can be grateful.

I feel I can do nothing but take to the blog and write how I feel, and hopefully I can put this in the right words.

We will find out soon enough who is/was involved.  I cannot say for domestic networks, because I am not monitoring them.  The BBC has made a good point of not racing down a darkened corridor screaming bloody murder about Al Qaeda, terrorists, etc.

The discussion is on about how well coordinated the explosions are or were.  Hard to say at this point, but that two went off very close to one another.  I have no idea.

One thing, too:  they are giving equal weight to domestic terrorists, as well as foreign ones.  

Facebook friends, many of them are reporting they are okay, even though friends of mine were close to the blast site.

In the wake of this, I know what's going to happen...there is going to be a gigantic screamfest.

I have a pretty good idea of which media in Boston will do what.  Suit to be followed around the country, if not the globe.

This is a time when I have nothing to do, except this:  let's hope for the best for those up there, and if we can do something to help, then we must do it.

Please think before you post on Facebook, Twitter or social media.  Please do not spew emotional hatred when you don't have the facts.

I don't have any.  You don't have any.

We'll find out soon enough.

This time, it's really hit home for me.  Great sadness for those involved; let us let the authorities do their jobs.  Say what you will about the Boston police, I have friends on the force.  They do their best under difficult circumstances.  

Stay cool.  Breathe.

We can never be 100% safe, but we must not waste our lives looking over our shoulders, afraid the whole world is out to get us.  Too many people do that.  We need not be that way.

We also find a need to point fingers, and attack.  Do not be a part of it.

A friend of mine made an interesting point:  what "friends" post and write on Facebook may not make them friends of hers anymore.  

Harsh?  Don't know.  I've nullifed the newsfeeds of so many people who are friends, because I will not let social/political views ruin what positives we do share.

Still...makes you think.

I'm lighting incense and candles tonight for my friends, fellow Bostonians and the visitors to a great city.  

Peace, Out.

Hurricane Sandy...from South-Central PA

Well, very little wreckage for yours truly to crawl from just yet.  Back at the Office, and I'll give you some updates on the world about me.

I decided there was very little to do but sleep, as I am working today.  Wonder what the road to Harrisburg will be like.

Just before 7 pm, the power flicked off, but returned a couple seconds later.  Lucky.  So far I've heard 1 million are w/o power in Pennsylvania.

The rain pretty much stayed heavy with little change as the night went on, and we got the wind gusts.  Sounded like a good ol' Nor'easter, as we New Englanders like to say.  

I was awakened at about 1:15, when the full force of the winds hit.  It went on for some time, but there was nothing for me to see at this point, so I stayed in bed.  No point.

So I did finally get up around 9:30.  The gang at WITF was still at it, and we have extended local coverage today; I'll be walking right into that.

My first order of biz was to check the property.  As expected the second big tree, an evergreen that has been at a 45-degree angle for years snapped and went over.  So there's two for the landscapers to get rid of.  Beyond that, nothing.  My landlady survived the night okay, and she had company, which I was glad to see.

I've seen almost nothing in York that would make you think anything really happened.  A number of businesses are still shut down as are the schools.  Traffic has again returned to normal, and the usual gas stations and the like are open.

I'll have more pics, hopefully and another report from the road.

###

Now, the worst of it:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-20137363

My friends in New York, I hope they're safe.  Some of them live in these areas, but they've dealt with worse than this.

For the local picture:

http://www.witf.org/

Other than that, we were damned lucky.  The state sounded much better prepared this time than for Hurricane Irene.  We'll see how the wild night went for others. 

For me, I appreciate not having too much excitement, especially at my age.

Hurricane Sandy...the Blogger on the Beach, So to Speak...

2:56 pm, Eastern time...I'm back at my house, after spending the morning and balance of the afternoon out and about.  As I have no specific duties until tomorrow, I've made my preparations to ride out the storm, before I have to ride into it.

I wrote earlier about the cycle of madness when people go out of their minds and buy out the store; based so far on what little I've heard from the eastern shore of the US, we might well have a reason to be a bit worried.

I was up and out early this morning to...and yes, I railed about this, and here I am being a part of it...to replace my cell phone.

Let's just say it was lost in an unfortunate accident and a bit of my own foolishness.  Anyway, I zipped over to the Galleria (Deatheria, some call it) Mall near my house.  I wondered if it would even be open.

Rain had been falling much of the night, and it was steady but not unusual.  The ground was pretty saturated, and there as a little wind.

Well, thanks to the Verizon guy, he was there, and got me fitted out with a new one...a "free" upgrade on my account, so that took no time.  While getting my data transferred, he noted a text that the Capital City Mall in Harrisburg was closing.

I wondered if most of the stores in the mall would even open today.

Anyway, I took a ride up Route 30 to the Office...they were open, and from there I watched as things unfolded.

I even managed a quick workout at the gym; Morebucks closed at 2 pm, the gym closed at 3, and other than convenience stores and gas stations, just about everything else has already shut down.

So far, no real concerns or worries.  I did not detect anyone being really flipped out, like some seemed to be the during the buyout.

So I'm home, and as long as I have power of some sort, I'll be transmitting.

Some shots of the property I just took...the rain is falling steadily still, with a few gusts but nothing serious as of yet.

http://www.noaa.gov/stormcentral/

NOAA is on top of the situation as well...this gives you a pretty fair look of how it's doing.

NPR and one of my employers, WITF have been keeping tabs on the storm as well.  None of the alarmist, Frankenstorm bullshit; we'll have enough time to get into that later.  

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-20121635

This link is to the BBC, and they are keeping a close watch as well.  Doing a good job.

So, you may ask, why am I not out there reporting?  Well, this is where I am.  I will be on duty for WITF tomorrow, and I am essentially the extra pair of hands.  If they need me, I come off the bench.

I am again "on the beach," but figuratively.  You feel like you should be out there, or doing something, but that's how it goes.  I'll have enough to worry about and do later.

I must be a real geek...while traveling through Harrisburg recently, I realized I was listening to AM 1670.  In that area, that is the NOAA Weather Radio relay station.  If you don't have a specific Weather Radio (as I do at home), you can the National Weather Service forecast and other related information from there.

I found that infinitely more interesting than anything that was on the radio at that moment!  My presets are to the sports stations and the weather channel, because there is NOTHING worth listening to on the AM other than that.  And the sports stations are barely tolerable.

I don't listen to FM radio hardly at all; my car presets are WITF, whom I work for, 91.7 in Philly (NPR, Jazz) and 95.3 (ESPN).  I used to have an XM radio, but no more.  (If you'd like to buy mine, let me know, heehee)

So now I'm listening to NOAA, and the robot voice.  My main plan is to check stuff out online, and my friends on Facebook, Twitter and other places and see how it goes.

Already the New Jersey coast and parts of New York, etc., are getting it.  A tall ship has apparently been lost, and two crewmen are missing.  I'm afraid we're gonna hear more like that.

I picked up the New York Times today, and I have something else to read, so I'll not be idle.  This is kind of how I am...you never stop being on duty, never stop wondering about how it's going out there.  And you be ready, in case of whatever.

So Baldrick is sitting beside me on the desk while I type; my coffee is brewed and I'll keep myself watching and waiting.  Our area is probably gonna get it tonight; I do hope we keep power; my landlady next door is up there in numbers, but I'm glad to see she had visitors, likely her son.  

I'll add more photos to my Facebook page as time goes on:

http://www.facebook.com/tory.gates

In any case, I understand some are trying to ride the storm out in the danger zone.  I certainly hope they're going to be all right; I honestly don't want news of peril, doom, and "if it bleeds, it leads."  

One person interviewed on NPR today said something that portends a not-good situation:  he was either on Long Island or New Jersey, I can't remember where he said.  He had lived through Hurricane Irene, and he said, this already is worse.

Uh-oh.

I am glad I don't have cable...I can just imagine what the major networks are doing right now.  

Well, that's all for now, blurkers...let me know where you're at and what's going on...stay dry, stay safe, and stay cool.  

Cyst Removal, American Health Care and Who in Russia is Reading My Blogs?

Okay...I am lying in bed with my wounded leg propped up, and Mitsuko Uchida is finishing off Schumann's "Davidsbundlertanze & Fantasie" on my iTunes, though I can barely hear it with the fan going.  I am not officially on the disabled list, but I have to be good and not do too much over the course of the next few days.

Right up front, I want you to realize that what I'm writing about is not to bemoan my condition, or that I am at death's door.  I've already been there once, so let's forget that.

But...what was to be a routine procedure turned into a week-long agony of weirdness which brings is to the state of the average person's health care and the wonder of why we need to do something about it.

If you don't know, I'm staying quiet on this because I really don't want to talk about it, but I can't help it.  Here's the deal:  I have over the years found myself susceptible to having a thing called a Sebaceous Cyst, or rather, several of them on my body.

I have two along my jawline, one of which got to be the size of a damn golf ball a few years ago before it blew, and I spent the better part of two days squeezing blood-tinged cottage cheese out of it.  Lovely sound it made, too.  The same one blew again a couple years ago, but cleared itself out with one huge sound of like someone blowing their nose.

I have one on my lower back which has been there for years, and the one on my inside left leg, right near the family pride.  They tend to be hard as rocks, and occur when hair somehow gets twisted up inside the skin (I think).  Sebum, this lovely white substance that is either like cottage cheese or hard as a rock, fills into the area and makes things get really big.

They are not cancerous, nor are they particularly dangerous.  They're just there; some people notice them, some people don't.  I don't like it when people stare at the one on my face, and immediately think something's the matter with me.

Surgical removal is the only way to officially get rid of the things.  Draining them doesn't really work, you have to remove the wall of the offending area.  

So anyway, a week ago I'm on this same bed, and I felt and heard the cyst go...internally.  A very strange feeling.  Where's it going, is it getting into my bloodstream, etc., etc.  These things make you wonder.

I was urged by a friend of a friend to go to find a doctor, fast.  I went to a Patient First outfit, and I must say I like the place.  They're open a lot, and provide decent service for not much money.  

The doctor there took one look at it, there really wasn't much to look at but the now diminished ball; he saw no issue, no sign of infection, but, "We don't do that here."

The above is almost like the mantra for a lot of doctor places.

This fellow says I need a General Surgeon, for an in and out job.  Okay; need to see primary care physician, can't see anyone till Monday.

See where the trouble is beginning?  The delay in getting this looked at becomes a problem.

Well, my primary care physician is on vacation (heard that one before, haven't we?).  I get her boss; a doctor who was way too happy with the world around him.

By the time this dude sees me, that cyst is now reddening, and not looking so good.  I'm doing my best to keep it clean, but the swelling makes it rub...everywhere.  Against my skin, against my clothes, against everything.  It's getting raw, and it's getting ugly, folks, see where we're going here.

Well, the doctor takes one look at this mess and says he does not dare tap it himself.  Okay; why not?

Too many other patients (customers) waiting?  Worried about your skills?  Or are you just grossed out by what you're seeing and I'm feeling?

So he sends me out front to the desk people and it's call the General Surgery people up the street and get me an appointment.  Oh, and drugs.

Antibiotics and me don't get along.  I'm allergic to penicillin, and most sulfa meds.  So they call in a scrip for a powerful, and expensive antibiotic.  Very expensive.

And they try to book me.  Oh, tomorrow they say?  But he won't have the antibiotics?  Let's again ask the doctor if that's okay, shall we?

Appointment lost. 

Meanwhile, I'm standing there, and realizing that the pain that is coming out of that throbbing mass of gristle inside my skin is getting worse.

So they call again..."they have one on the 14th," the young lady behind the counter says.

Eight more days...let's pause for a moment here.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, LADY?  IS THERE ONLY ONE SURGERY I CAN GO TO?  ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?

I'm saying that to myself of course.  They then find one for today (this day), and I figure all right, I can hold out till then.  Knowing in the back of my mind, that I am in trouble.

The glutinous mess inside my leg is now expanding and hardening again.  There's one small area that's flaming red, and losing its skin.  I cannot even put bandages over it, it's that painful.

So, two more fucking days of this and trying to act like everything's okay.  And people say our health system is the best ever?  NO.  NO.  FUCK NO.  YOU SNOTTY LITTLE FUCKTARDS WITH INSURANCE FOR LIFE, GET REAL!

I have insurance, and it don't pay for shit.  I pay $180 for TEN, count 'em, TEN Avelox pills.  They make me dizzy, they make my body temperature rise and fall like the waves around Cape Horn, and you hope they actually work.

So I'm toughing it out.  The only way I can be comfortable and pain-free is lying down or sitting and not moving.  When I stand, not good.

Okay, flash forward to 4 am.  I am awakened by something, and I know it ain't good.

I don't even dare move, but I have to.  Something down on my leg does not feel right.  I feel something there; it's wet.  Thick.  Glutinous.

It blew.  Outward this time.  Now a closer inspection reveals the top of this dome has opened itself up to the air.  It's dark purple, it's ugly, it's bruised, it's bleeding.  Oh, and the pus.

The wastebaskets in my bedroom, office and bathroom became repositories for medical waste.  And lots of it.  The fucking thing is bottomless, and I am in fucking agony.  Two more Aleve (how many of these have I had?) and I finally force my body to calm down enough to where I figure I have no choice but to take the pain of wrapping this semi-fecund mess and hoping I can make it to the appointment.

Bless my friend Alice, for coming to drive me out there.  I could not have done it.  Into the surgery place, which is basically a doctor's office for the specialty; the guy who leads it looks a prize.  

Paperwork, another copay, loud old people SHOUTING AT ONE ANOTHER EVEN THOUGH THEY ARE SEATED BESIDE ONE ANOTHER IN THE FUCKING OFFICE.  And whatever else.

So finally I am brought back to another waiting room, then into the exam room.  More questions, blahfuckingblah and I meet the young female MD who's going to do the job.

Wow.  A smart one.  One who doesn't think she is all that; one who is professional, not a smiley faced nut, and actually seems to have a handle on the matter.  

Nothing against her colleagues, but HOLY FUCKING SHIT.  THIS IS NOW INFECTED, ABCESSED.  WE DID NOT HAVE TO GO HERE.  THIS, as I told one of their receptionists, SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEALT WITH A WEEK AGO.  THEN I WOULD NOT BE HERE.

Well, the Doctor gets down to business.  Now...I should tell you if you are eating, STOP READING THIS RIGHT NOW.  This is not for the squeamish.  This is not even for the sadistic or those who derive cheap thrills out of reading or watching a train wreck happen before their eyes.

Needless to say, breathing near this dome of infected flesh causes pain.  I keep telling myself that I've endured much worse; my car wreck in '94 and all that went with that, yes, damned sight worse.  But this had its own fun little moments, to be sure.

Anyway, the procedure generally calls for a draining of the blood and pus, removal of the cyst (if anything hard actually remains) and a cleaning out of the wall.  First things first, cleaning around it...

...my doctor did a very good job, and she was very keen on causing me as little discomfort as possible.  (Mozart's Mass in C Minor, with valkyries singing along with forboding music has begun...oh this works).

That done, the injection of painkiller, with a very long needle.  The young lady medical assistant did take an effort to hide the length and thickness of said needle from me, but I still saw it.  Strangely, that did not bother me; consider that my dental hygienist went through school sticking those into her own gums as part of her training before she got to me...and you will find that not much fazes me.

"You'll feel a stick, and then a burn..."  Well, not so bad, really.  I felt it, sure, but again the doctor showed her skill at doing this without much issue.

Then we get to the issue.  I barely felt the incision, only about an inch long through the infected epidermal layers, and down and in we go.  The doctor begins the "draining."  Actually, more of a heavy-handed massage of my thigh...the top of the dome had been seeping out all this shit in the morning, so I could only imagine something reminiscent of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919 going on where I could not see.

That is one creepy fucking feeling...you can feel the ooze splattering, gushing and crawling down your leg into the waiting formerly white medical stuff they use down there to catch shit.

I have seen Youtube videos of this kind of procedure; if you want, go there and then you'll really be grossed out.  

Now if this is not enough for you (are you with me still?  Good.), we then get to the main event.  REMOVAL.

I don't know what tool the doctor used, a forceps of some sort, and she started working around in there with it.  Now the pain really starts.  This is a unique brand of torture; didn't last long, but that was enough.

The doctor shows me a piece of the sebum that was in there; half the size of a dime, it looked like a piece of plastic that had been chewed on by some animal.

So while they fill a wastebasket full of the remnants of my leg, they finally clean it off again.  In the past, they used to pack the entire hole with cotton or something other; you'd have to have it removed every day, cleaned, repacked, etc.  They don't do that anymore.

The wound is still open, and the idea is to keep it draining.  You tuck a corner of a gauze bandage into the hole, then hold that in place while you use your second and third hands to wrap it in place.  Not too difficult, but you have to be thorough.  You need to get it tight, but not too tight.

So...hopefully there's a scrip for Vicodin awaiting me, though I don't think I will need it.  The post-operative pain is very little, and Aleve does a good number on me.  I can shower, but I cannot swim, so I need a new training adjustment.

I have to keep an eye on this wound, and make sure it stays good until next Tuesday, when the doc wants to see me again.  Hopefully we'll have made progress; a re-drain, maybe or something other.

Anyway...the point I make about all this is that I really don't feel I should have been made to fucking wait an entire week to have this done.  I would not have an abcess and infection had I been able to have access to my doctor, or any doctor and be able to get this done.

Instead we have this; someone has to be seriously fucked up or near death before anyone will act.  I have never understood the world of insurance billing, but I know when things don't work.

The argument over what kind of health care works and does not work is left to the people who think they know what works.  I don't want anything to do with it, and I'm sick of hearing all the lies about how wonderful it is.

It is not.  It is a fucked up system where bureaucrats and non-medical people are deciding how things will be run, and doctors, nurses, assistants and patients have to figure out how to work within that.

You may not like Obamacare, but is it worse than what we have now?  Or what we once had?  Remember HMO's?  Managed Care?  Horseshit, was what it was, and I know because I had to fight with them every fucking time I went to the pharmacy or to any doctor's office.

So...just to make a long story short, I'm okay.  I'm taking it easy and hopeful this all works out.  I think it will.  Exercise in patience.

###

Now, here's the update on my moving of the blog.  I will likely be leaving here and going to Wordpress.  The aim is to attract a wider audience and have something a bit better to present.

Also, to stop the Russians from pinging me, or whatever it is they're doing.

I'm getting a lot of hits from Russia, but I don't think they're humans.  If you are, please leave a comment and tell me what you are reading of mine.

Some kind of bot or engine is doing it, and I don't know why.  Weird.

Anyway, I shall have hopefully better things to write about.

Oh, and I have studiously ignored the Olympic Games.  They really rather bore me.  NBC's coverage has been absolute shit, and the BBC has totally owned them.  The Brits get that little nuance that there are actually nearly 200 COUNTRIES WHO HAVE SENT ATHLETES TO THE GAMES.  

IT IS NOT THE AMERICAN OLYMPIC GAMES, NBC.  GOT IT?  I doubt it.

Time to crash.  Hope your week went better than mine.  Peace.