Happy Penis Day

Believe it or not . . . this post has gotten more traffic than almost any other, and since people seem to like “it” . . . it bears repeating . . . I guess.

Leave it to the Japanese.

It’s called Honen Matsuriand is celebrated every March 15 in Komaki, a town about 45 minutes north of Nagoya. Folks haul out a big wooden penis and the celebration begins. Notice in these things that it always has to be big . . . small doesn’t count, so size must matter.

The idea is to bring a good harvest and have babies. Seem easier just to plant the rice and then make love, but who am I to get in the way of a good celebration. Question: does Hallmark in Japan sell Happy Penis Day cards? If not, they are definitely missing an opportunity!

Well Japan isn’ t the only place. According to “Urban Dictionary” . . .

In New Zealand, September 4th is national penis day. Heaps of guys in each of the main cities go to a public place (like The Square in Christchurch), get naked and stand in a formation so as to form a giant penis. Lots of chicks and dirty old men go.

Well, I guess it’s better than hanging out with the sheep. It looks a little like a locker room, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Actually the event is a chance to promote awareness of testicular and prostate cancer.

And actually it’s not just the modern world . . . If you’re in Mikonos take the shore excursion over to Delos. There never was much on Delos by way of natural resource, but it became the spiritual center of the Greek world and a thriving center of commerce. Delos had been a spiritual center for a millennium before Greek mythology made it the birthplace of Apollo and Artemis. Delos became the center of the cult of Dionysus, the Greek party god of wine, drunkenness, celebration and fertility. He was known as “the god who comes” . . . no, notwhat you may be thinking. But hundreds of thousands made the pilgrimage to Delosand returned with little souvenir penis amulets . . . a kind of early Grecian fertility clinic. The symbol of Dionysus was an erect phallus, and if you visit Delos today you can see the remains of the giant erect penises that stood in the Stoivadeion. At the base of this erection pillar you will see a cock, with it’s long neck, which was another Dionysian symbol. “Cock” . . . a little free etymology here folks!

Lest all this seem a bit erotically confusing in our modern age, remember that it was not until Pythagoras (582-507 BC), the “Father of Numbers”, came along that anyone had any idea how kids happen! I mean with all these erections around, they obviously had some idea that drinking wine and making whoopee contributed to the process. But Pythagoras was the first to speculate that human life begins with a blend of male and female “fluids”, or “semens” originating in body parts. So, with that in mind, and if you wanted a kid, or a good crop of grapes, a trip to Delos was probably a good idea.

I suppose National Penis Day isn’t such a bad idea. After all penises bring a lot of fun to life for both those of us who have them and those who don’t.

It can be a lonely life being a penis, so why not celebrate!

OK, in computer-generated Spanish as well . . . heaven help us what this turns out to say!

Just when you thought flying Delta was as bad as it can get . . .

I really hate to fly Delta. No food. No service. Surly in the air and on the ground. Dependably late. But the cruise lines all love Delta and even if they have to fly me from Panama via Timbuktu to get to Ft Lauderdale . . . and the cruise lines always buy the worst seats in the back of the plane and usually your assigned seats is between two folks going to the “Big Is Better” annual convention. Maybe Princess will be different . . . we shall see. And to think that at one time Delta was a great airline! Such is life on that great subway in the skies . . .

Well, now comes reason to really think twice before flying Delta.

(CNN) — Police met a wayward jet that overshot the runway by 150 miles — while not responding to control tower communications — and said the pilots were “cooperative, apologetic and appreciative.”

Authorities are reviewing the plane’s cockpit voice recorder as well as its flight data recorder.

The Minneapolis-St. Paul [Minnesota] Airport Police report on the incident, released Friday, said officers asked flight attendants to keep passengers in their seats while they checked out the cockpit, where, they said, “the door was standing open.”

The police report identified the pilot as Timothy B. Cheney and the first officer as Richard I. Cole.

“The pilot … indicated they had become involved in conversation and had not heard radio communications,” the report said . . . Northwest Flight 188 flew past its Minneapolis airport destination during a mysterious 78 minutes of radio silence beginning about 7:56 p.m. ET Wednesday night . . . The Airbus A320 was carrying 147 passengers and an unknown number of crew members . . .”

Isn’t that reassuring?

So the shop talk . . . “Should Delta fire dumb-ass flight crews who aren’t paying attention to the safety of 150 plus people on board?” . . . gets in the way of driving the frickin’ plane? OK, this guy’s tail was painted Northwest, but Northwest is now owned by Delta. Maybe they were discussing the buy out, or kids, or wives or whatever . . . point is they should have been paying attention to driving the plane.

Earlier in the week another ace Delta flight crew managed to miss the runway at Atlanta entirely and instead landed on the taxiway. Just what some poor pilot easing out onto the taxiway needs . . . a frickin plane landing at zumpteen miles per hour in his face.

Who’s running the asylum anyway?

OK, so Princess will probably stick me on Delta to Europe and I will be strip-searched, denied my 10 peanuts, bitch-slapped by surly flight attendants, denied use of the restrooms, and seated beside the blue waters with strips of used toilet paper flowing out of the nonfunctioning rest room all the way to Europe . . . then met by flashing blue lights and escorted off the plane because I questioned the accuracy of the male flight attendant’s explanation that, “Darling, those tiny little pieces of brown floating in the blue waters are definitely NOT poo, honey, believe me . . . but just a tray of brownies I spilled on my way to First Class.”

Pleeeeeeeeeeease, KLM me, make me a Virgin, even the unfriendly skies of United, anything but Delta!

But now

Even days . . .

Fifty-fifty, odd or even days. I chose even . . . maybe because I was born on an even day in an even year. Writing a blog, almost daily, for the past two years has been fun . . . and a lot of work. A lot of blogs are just a spaghetti-like maze of feeds from other sources, but to create original . . . and hopefully interesting! . . . content requires a lot of work. Usually an hour to an hour-and-a-half. I enjoy the creativity, and like to write, but with being on ships seven to eight months a year, it has become increasingly difficult to blog daily. On board ship I generally have the time, but the Internet service is slow and very expensive. In Palmira I have the Internet, but there are so many other projects to occupy my “vacation” . . . so, as I enter the third year of blogging my goal will be to blog every other day . . . even days.

I hope that you will stay with me! I realize that most people don’t read the blogs they follow every day anyway. When I started this bloggy thing two years ago . . . October 16th to be exact . . . I wasn’t sure that anyone would read it. Today something interesting happened . . . we had our 200,000th visitor! So thank you all . . . it’s been fun . . . and I hope you will continue to visit! I will do my best, on land or at sea, to post every other day.

Regards, Richard

We just don’t get it . . .

The US has a tendancy to keep on funding its failed wars and failed policies . . .

Former Colombian president blasts U.S. anti-drug strategy

By Tom Evans (CNN) — Former Colombian President Cesar Gaviria on Tuesday strongly criticized the United States’ approach to fighting drugs.

“Just putting all consumers in jail, as the U.S. does, is not a solution,” he told CNN’s Christiane Amanpour. “You have to reduce consumption.”

In a wide ranging interview, Gaviria said the United States now has more people in jail for narco-trafficking or related crimes than there are prisoners in the whole of Europe.

“What you need to do with addicts and people who consume drugs is deal with them as a health problem, an education problem,” he said.

Gaviria and two other former Latin American presidents — Fernando Cardoso of Brazil and Ernesto Zedillo of Mexico — are all arguing the war on drugs has failed and it is time to replace current policy with what they call a more humane and efficient approach.

Colombia remains the principal source of cocaine for the world, despite $6 billion in U.S. aid for anti-drug campaigns over the past decade. Watch the interview with Gaviria »

Gaviria said it’s time the United States changed its approach. “The U.S. has to look at its policy, to start to use more of that $4 billion a year that they use, to use more of the resources in the health system, in treatment and taking some people out of jail.”

He highlighted the problems Mexico is facing handling its drug problem.

Thousands of people have been killed there in drug-related violence in recent years.

He said democracy in Mexico is paying a significant price, with major damage to its judicial system, its police, and its army.

“The Mexicans probably in a few years will be able to deal a little better with the problems of security,” he said. “But the flow of drugs will keep growing.”

He declared, “We will never be successful unless the U.S. reduces consumption and Europeans do, also.”

Prohibition didn’t work. Instead of stopping consumption it forced it underground, fed crime, corruption and violence at home and with our neighbors. The failed “War on Drugs” not only feeds violence in the US, but in all the countries of the region as well.

Four Different Colors

Buying paint in Panama is a nightmare! Those cool Home Depot machines that reproduce any color swatch you bring in . . . forget it. We might as well be mixing powders trail and error!

I needed several gallons of Glidden paint that we had used in our house to use in my brother’s casita.  So I took the Glidden can into a Glidden store that had the formula pasted right on the can . . . and the two cans of supposedly the same paint from Glidden were . . . well, more or less the same, but not the same.

I know that cans of paint never match precisely, and that you mix the cans together, and all that . . . but these were noticeably different.  So I need two more cans and fed up with Glidden I try the local hardware store.  Now I like the people at El Constructor but . . . I have never ordered anything there like cement blocks, sand or gravel that has been delivered anywhere near when promised.  It always takes multiple trips down to Boquete, cajoling and begging before my stuff is delivered.  Maybe it’s because they are, if not the “only” act in town, certainly the largest and oldest.

So I ask them if they can make an accurate copy of my Glidden paint.  They tell me that they can call the Sur (the local Panamanian brand) factory where they have all the Glidden formulas, and get the formula.  Guess what?  It’s not a match, close, but not the same.  I’m struggling to get this damn project done in two months, and rather than making yet another trip 45 minutes down the mountain to David, I just use the damn paint.  (You learn to “accept” in Panama!)  OK, I should have ordered 50 gallons when I started, but I didn’t, and so I needed another two gallons.  Go back to El Constructor, and yet another version of the “same” color.  And damn it if I didn’t need another two gallons.  I had no idea how much paint these walls could suck up!  And El Constructor creates yet another version of the “same” formula!

So there you have it: the same formula, four different versions, four different colors.  I guess it’s a little like four women making four carrot cakes using the same recipe, but it is maddening as hell.

Speaking of different versions . . .
and this isn’t about paint, whitewash maybe, not paint.  The Republicans and Democrats continue to fight over health care reform.  The following poses the question, “Why the fuss?  We’re number 37!”

Thanks, Bethany!

My wife forwarded me this . . .

I guess we have the same slightly warped sense of humor . . . BTW, an essential ingredient for living in Panama where the colors don’t match.

Subject: Ad Posted to Craig’s List Personals: This Ad Was Posted to Craig’s List Personals:

To the Guy Who Tried to Mug Me in Downtown Savannah night before last. Date: 05-27-09, 1:43 A M EST.

I was the guy wearing the black Burberry jacket that you demanded that I hand over, shortly after you pulled the knife on my girlfriend, threatening our lives and me.

You also asked for my girlfriend’s purse and earrings.

I can only hope that you somehow come across this rather important message.

First, I’d like to apologize for your embarrassment when I drew my pistol after you took my Jacket. The evening was not that cold, and I was wearing the jacket for a reason.

My girlfriend had just bought me that Kimber Model 1911 .45 A CP pistol for mybirthday, and we had picked up a shoulder holster for it that very evening.

Obviously you agree that it is a very Intimidating weapon when pointed at your head wasn’t it?

I know it probably wasn’t fun walking back to wherever you’d come from bare footed since I made you leave your shoes, cell phone, and wallet with me. [That prevented you from calling or running to your buddies to come help mug us again].

After I called your mother, or “Momma” as you had her listed in your cell, I explained the entire episode of what you’d done. Then I Went and filled up my gas tank as well as four other people’s in the gas station on your credit card. The guy with the big motor home took 150 gallons and was extremely grateful!

I gave your shoes to a homeless guy outside Vinnie Van Go Go’s, along with all the cash in your wallet. [That made his day!]

I then threw your wallet into the big pink “pimp mobile” that was parked at the curb …. after I broke the windshield and side window and keyed the entire driver’s side of the car.

Later, I called a bunch of phone sex numbers from your cell phone. Ma Bell just now shut down the line, although I only used the phone for a little over a day now, so what’s going on with that?

Earlier, I managed to get in two threatening phone calls to the DA’s office and one to the FBI, while mentioning President Obama as my possible target. The FBI guy seemed really intense and we had a nice long chat (I guess while he traced your number etc.).

In a way, perhaps I should apologize for not killing you … but I feel this type of retribution is a far more appropriate punishment for your threatened crime. I wish you well as you try to sort through some of these rather immediate pressing issues, and can only hope that you have the opportunity to reflect upon, and perhaps reconsider the career path you’ve chosen to pursue in life.

Remember, next time you might not be so lucky.

Have a good day!

Thoughtfully yours,
Alex

I do better thinking about it a few days later.

I received this nice comment from Glenice, about my blog for September 11, which was simply a burning candle . . .

Richard, Powerful and respectful, what an appropriate blog for today.

Thank you Glenice, but in all honesty it was the only thing I could think of. After all these years, words still fail me on September 11th. Now, a few days later, I do better reflecting . . .

For my parent’s generation the defining moment of their lives, that moment they will never forget exactly where they were or what they were doing, was Pearl Harbor. For my generation it was the moment President Kennedy was assassinated. For my children’s generation it was the day the Challenger space craft exploded. But now for all of us, it is September 11th.  FDR called December 7, 1941, the day Pearl Harbor was bombed, “a day that will live in infamy.”  Now, September 11, 2001 is even more a day that will live in infamy, not only because over 600 more people were killed on September 11th than at Pearl Harbor, but because we all watched the terror unfold on our televisions in real-life horror.

We were living in Ventura and I was working as Director of Ecommerce for 24 Hour Fitness, mostly telecommuting from home.  24 Hour Fitness was rapidly expanding, not only in the US, but also in Europe and Asia.  The Web site was doing phenomenally well, driving clients into our clubs with free 30-day passes downloaded from the Web, and we were the first fitness company to actually sell memberships online allowing customers to control the purchase decision, by-passing sometimes high-pressure tactics of eager sales people in the clubs.  [The club sales people were getting first-crack at the thousands of folks who were downloading passes and visiting the clubs for the first time.]  When I could, I made it a point to visit local clubs, get in my own work out, and chat with employees and customers about their experience, how they felt about the company and the Web site, and how we could better meet their fitness needs online.  I was rushing out of the house, intending on visiting three of our large clubs in the LA area, totally oblivious to what was going on in the world.

My neighbor across the street greeted me with these words, “Well, I guess we are at war!”  Dumbfounded, I wondered if he had lost it or been drinking.  And he proceeded to give me a quick synopsis of where we were at that point . . . which was that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center, presumably terrorists.  So I turned around, went back into the house, and like everyone else sat in glued suspense and horror as the day unfolded. 

Little did I realize it at the time, but my world, as well as the rest of the world, had changed.  I immediately knew the world had shifted and would never be the same, but I had no idea that the economic fallout would impact me.  24 Hour Fitness had been expanding rapidly . . . and suddenly, business nose-dived.  My position ended up being cut: fortunately they hired me back for more money as a consultant, but it definitely jerked me up short and caused me to seriously reevaluate what I was doing, and what I wanted to do . . . and, although I never realized it at the time, would end up with me retiring early in Panama.

Since 2001 I have had several occasions to sail out of New York harbor.  I can’t describe the emptiness, and ache in the pit of my stomach when I look over to the skyline, where the World Trade Center should be, and realize not only it, not only all of the people who died, but so much else has been taken from us.    All of us can theorize, lament, grieve, second-guess, whatever, whatever . . . but there is no denying that on that day, September 11, 2001, the world changed . . . forever.  There is no going back.  What was is gone . . . forever.  Nothing is the same.

And that essentially is the nature of grief, whether it is individual grief, or national grief.  My wife and I did grief recovery seminars for a number of years, and eventually wrote a book entitled HOW TO RECOVER FROM GRIEF.  I remember what one lady whose husband had died told us.  She said, “I will never forget.  I grieve every day.  Life will never be the same, but it can be good again.”  And that would be my wish for those who lost loved ones on 9/11, and for a nation that still grieves that loss.

This is a very powerful video compilation of a song and pictures of that very disturbing day . . . remembering and grieving is part of the process of moving forward and appreciating the very fragile and fleeting gift of life.

September 11

15,000 VISITORS THIS MONTH!!

Well, we just hit 15,000 visitors this month!  And traditionally August is not a good month since most people are too busy doing other things than to read blogs! 

Thank you all so very, very much!!

When I started this bloggy thing I wasn’t sure anyone would read it!  Blogging is fun, addictive, and at times tiring.  I’ve tried to commit to blogging daily, and I usually succeed . . . not wanting to disappoint any regular readers or those wierdos who stumble on my blog Googling for crazy things like . . . messy house, man on toilet, female breasts, male buttocks, dutch door, national penis day, croissant . . . So whether you are interested in Panama, cruising, or some other whatever, or just stumble in . . . WELCOME!  Thank you for visiting!  And I promise to keep on trying to keep you coming back!

And thank you for your comments and emails!!!

Take Emergency Leisurely

I love getting your comments . . . and particularly enjoyed this one from Kathy . . .

Over the years I sometimes have Googled Stauter’s name (no disrespect intended, that’s what we all called him in the ER and how he’d introduce himself). I worked with him in the ER at Trumbull Memorial Hospital. “Take emergency leisurely.” was exactly how he functioned. He spoke often of his adventures around the the world and the friends he made. He touched many lives at the hospital and is remembered by those who knew him as a great man, a great doctor and a great friend. My last encounter with him just prior to the plane crash was when I was transfering out of the ER , I said “Stauter, your going to miss me when I’m gone”. He just smiled said, “and you’ll miss me”…..

She’s referring to a blog I did sometime last year about Robert Stauter, a friend who died in the Swiss Air 111 crash in 1998. In the light of that touching comment, I thought you’d enjoy rereading the piece I wrote about Robert . . .

We had a good friend whom I met while he was an “AIMer” at a friend’s church in Jersey City, while I was serving a church in the South Bronx. “AIM” was a denominational program called “Adventure In Mission” and enabled college students to take a year off school and serve for peanuts. Robert remained friends with the pastor and his wife, Jack and Ella White, long after he completed his AIM service. Jack and Ella ended up pastoring the old Reformed Church in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas. Before they left they made us promise we’d come to visit, and since by then my church was in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, we were only too glad to “escape Wisconsin” mid winter and fly off to St. Thomas. Often Robert was there. We watched him through college, then medical school, wondering how he could be a doctor when he fainted at the sight of blood. Robert had a way of . . . well, while most guys were doing their internships in some big city hospital, Robert was interning with the Flying Doctors in Australia, and later in India. When he went to India he managed to get to know the Sisters of Charity, to even help out, and to have private time with Mother Theresa. Her famous line was, “I want to meet the doctor who cleans bedpans.” That would be Robert. He never took himself overly seriously.

Robert went on not only to become an expert trauma specialists but to run a number of emergency rooms right off the Ohio Turnpike that got all the trauma cases. Since he always said in medical school that he wanted to be a pathologist – no blood – I couldn’t understand how he became this trauma specialist. His answer, “The nurses know to elevate the wound before I come in.”

When I faced emergency surgery and had to make some immediate and difficult decisions about a risky neurosurgical procedure, my wife tracked down Robert, and he patiently walked me through the procedure and the risks and gave me his recommendation, not just as a doctor, but as a friend.

Robert was a passenger on the Swiss Air Fight 111 that exploded over the Atlantic. He was on his way to a United Nations medical meeting and to visit friends in Zurich. Robert Stauter, MD was 46 when he died.

But when “all hell breaks loose” I always thought of something that Robert taught me: it was a sign he first saw in an emergency room in India that read, “Take emergency leisurely.” I suspect that Robert ran his emergency rooms that way. I think they probably lacked the TV emergency room atmosphere, but that a skilled team moved efficiently, quietly, professionally, without crisis or drama to deliver effective, emergency care.

During Robert’s Senior year of Medical School he chose to spend his elective rotations overseas. He worked in such locations as the Isle of Skye off the coast of Scotland, oil platforms in the North Sea, the Death and Dying Institue of Calcutta, India, a remote location in the Philippines, and with the Flying Doctors of Northern Australia. While in India he met Mother Theresa and was served Communion by her. He graduated in 1978 from the U. of I. with a Doctorate of Medicine (MD) and was accepted into the Emergency Medicine Residency at Akron General Hospital in Akron, Ohio. After his Residency, FACEP, he accepted a position in the Emergency Department of Trumbul Memorial Hospital in Warren, Ohio. While working there, he was an Assistant Professor in Emergency Medicine with the Northeastern Ohio University College of Medicine.

While practicing as an ER Physician full time, he attended law school at Case Western Reserve in Cleveland, Ohio as a full time student. He graduated with a Doctorate in Jurisprudence (JD) in 1988. Robert’s truest enjoyment was traveling around the world. He was fluent in French and could converse in several languages. He maintained many long-term friendships with people from around the world.

The Golden State . . . Busted!

I am sorry . . . please don’t be offended. I didn’t pose for the picture, HE did. And he is a man, after all. I just couldn’t resist the picture from Julian Ayers blog “The Tattler” and Julian’s comment, “Give a man a couple of inches and he thinks he’s a ruler . . .” Too cool Julian! I’m sure the Gov regrets that pose: maybe it is true what they say about steroids shrinking it . . . Boys looking for big pecs take note!

Anyway, California is a mess . . . and it’s not going to get any better. In fact it is going to get a whole lot worse. These are desperate times . . . and some of the measures are desperate . . . and they are not going to solve the problem. Ironically I, and a lot of others, voted for the “Terminator” because we really wanted someone to go to Sacramento and shoot up the place and change the way the California legislature did business Unfortunately in politics you can’t just go in and shoot up the place and terminate the elected legislature. So, and this really is the irony, Arnold finds any political future in the crapper, and finds himself in the very same place as Gray Davis, the then Governor whom he campaigned against. Really a tough break for Arnie . . . worse than the picture! I think he really tried but . . .

Among other things eliminated, the Pregnant Teen Parenting Program my wife had been working with in Ventura and across California for 18 years . . . gone! Maybe not such a bad thing since the next governor can announce a teen pregnancy problem, and take credit for funding a program to solve it!

Bob Burnett writing on the Huffington Post had some interesting observations . . .

Now that the dust has settled and Californians can see the drastic consequences of the state budget train wreck, it’s time to consider ten actions to fix California.

(1) Elect a leader . . .
(2) Change term limits . . .
(3) End gerrymandering . . .
(4) Restore majority rule . . .
(5) Revise the initiative process . . .
(6) Adopt a two-year budget cycle . . .
(7) Revamp the tax code . . .

You can read all about those . . . but these I found particularly interesting, and I’ve been advocating these for years . . .

(8) Legalize marijuana. There’s a huge market for marijuana in California, but only medicinal use is fully legal. The black market for pot is an enormous source of potential tax revenue. If marijuana were to be taxed and regulated the same as alcohol, California would garner more than $1 billion per year. Legalize pot.

(9) Reduce the prison population. In the recent budget compromise, education funds were cut by $6 billion but the Department of Corrections was reduced by only $1.2 billion. California continues to spend a disproportionate amount on prisons — ten percent of the state general fund; the average cost per inmate is roughly $46,000, while the average cost per pupil is $11,626. The prison population — 167,000 — can be dramatically reduced by common-sense actions such as deporting undocumented aliens and making non-violent crimes, such as writing bad checks, a misdemeanor so that prison time is not an option. Reducing the number of prisoners would free up billions for other state purposes.

(10) Designate more toll roads . . .

One of the immediate things the Governor can do is address the prison issue, and the justice issue in California by immediately commuting the sentence of Brandon Hein. There is no reason for a man who never committed the crime, who nobody says committed the crime, to not be paying taxes and contributing to the California economy, and have been locked up in a Level IV close custody prison (THE most expensive) for 5,187 days at an estimated cost to taxpayers of over $1M just for Brandon!!! [That's 14.2 years times $75,000] That is nuts!

And about that picture . . . I’m sure at the age of 62, the Governor is damn proud of that picture!