On Dec. 17, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Hilltown Café in Rensselaerville. On such a cold day, the restaurant was inviting.
The OFs agreed that the ride to Rensselaerville was like driving through a Christmas card or a winter photo on a calendar; then they were all rewarded by a warm start-to-the-day breakfast.
The riders in one car reported that on the trip up to Rensselaerville — and Rensselaerville is up — the temperature changes in just the few miles to get there. The outside temperature gauge showed one degree when starting out, the OF said, and, as they approached the dip between Thompson’s Lake, and Cole Hill Road, the temperature dropped to 13 below zero.
As they made the turn on Cole Hill, the temperature was up to seven below, and, by the time they were on the top of the hill, the temperature had risen to 2 degrees above zero. That change is in the mere distance of approximately four or five miles and an elevation change of about 400-plus feet (that is only a guess).
Many years ago, there was a ski area on Cole Hill with a rope tow to the top. The OFs thought it was a Farmall H, jacked up a tad and it had a rope around the rear tire that was the drive for the rope tow.
Old wooden skis, rubber boots (i.e., barn boots for many of the OFs, with felt liners) and leather buckled bindings on the skis buckled around the boot. Then the OFs tightened them up and down the hill the OFs went.
The OFs did not have ski outfits; the only cost was a pair of wooden skis, and the rest is what the OFs had in their closets. Today, to be fashionable on the slopes costs as much as a good used car, and, as one OF said, he bets we had more fun.
The OFs wondered if there were any vestiges of that little ski trail left. Those who travel the hill say they don't think so because they are pretty sure where the trail used to be is overgrown into trees now. Times change and sometimes, time change is not for the better.
“Unteaching” the old dog
The OFs are having as much trouble keeping up with the technology advances as everybody else.
One OF said he has the newest gadget going and says it is great. It is some kind of tablet that takes pictures, answers the phone, makes apple pies, and scrubs your back all at the same time.
One OF said, “Yeah, that is for today; tomorrow, it will be something else.”
The OFs thought that the end of the telephone party line was the ultimate in technological advancement.
The familiar ding of the typewriter as it reached the end of a line alerting the typist he had to slide the lever over to go to the next line, then along came IBM’s Selectric typewriter and the lines changed by themselves. The world was going crazy, the OFs thought.
The OFs thought for years there were just 72 elements in the periodic table and that was it; now look, they (whoever they are) say there are 118 elements. The OFs say, if you change the 72 to 118, why not change it to 218.
One OF said it is not the teaching the old dog, it is the “unteaching” that is so hard.
Getting there
The OFs were contemplating outer space and getting there and the OFs had a hard time comprehending that latitude and longitude, as the OFs once learned, is not right for space travel, and NASA, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, uses something else.
One OF said he has enough trouble heading to Aunt Tillie’s house and arriving there and she is only one hundred miles away. It is amazing to him that the astronauts can go to the moon and land right back where they started from.
“Yeah,” one OF mentioned, “and, if they can't make the initial starting point, they just recalculate and proceed to site number two.”
Those OFs who did not study navigation are envious of those that know how to navigate by the stars, or how to navigate with maps using the latitude and longitude that the OFs know. The OFs who can't read music are in the same mode, envious of those that can.
Road trip
down Memory Lane
Most of the OFs have new or newer models cars, trucks, and vans. A conversation started on how the newer cars drive themselves, and this scribe noted we have been down this road before. (No pun intended.)
The OFs have driven cars and trucks in their early years where it was necessary to place your feet in the right place when the OF entered the vehicle because the road was visible through the rotted out floor board. Fumes from the engine wafted in underneath the vehicle, but not to worry — there were so many other holes in the older vehicles that the fumes did not cause any harm. The fumes just found another hole to go out of the car or truck.
In these vehicles, the engine sounds were right in the car with you. The OFs could tell how ole Betsy was running just by these sounds.
Today, the cars run as quiet as the morgue. The engine runs effortlessly and the next thing the OF knows he is going 70 miles an hour when, in his youth, 50 miles per hour was exciting. Today, 70 is like having coffee in the living room.
One OF asked the question that is quite often asked when the OFs travel back in time: “So, do you want to go back to these old vehicles, with heaters that didn't work well, no air-conditioning, mechanical brakes that could freeze, no power steering, having to carry a spare tire or two, and rides that were like wooden wagon wheels going over farm roads?”
“Not really,” one OF said, “but back then at least I was able to fix the car on the side of the road. Cars came with tool kits, remember.”
One OF remembered his brother and he going someplace, and they had the family vehicle, which happened to be a Ford sedan. Back then, Fords had only one spring in back that went side to side.
“This is an important point,” the OF said.
The OFs picked up their girlfriends and started out. On Route 443, between Gallupville and Schoharie, the rear spring broke. Not far from where it broke was a small junkyard-type repair shop. The OFs pulled in there and explained their problem to the proprietor.
“Yep,” he said, “I have a spring.”
The OFs said, “Great, we can fix it right here.”
The proprietor said, if they could do that, he would give them the spring. The OF had a rather strong brother, who actually was able to lift the car. The OF said they had the old spring out and the new one in less than half an hour.
The proprietor was true to his word and gave them the spring, and he said, “If I didn't see that I wouldn't believe it!”
“Try doing that with one of these new cars,” the OF said.
The OFs who made it to the Hilltown Café in Rensselaerville, and who found that Amanda was the only one there (she waited tables, prepared the food, bussed the tables, and kept the coffee cups filled) were: Harold Guest, John Rossmann, Frank Pauli, Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Roger Chapman, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Mace Porter, Gary Porter, Ken Hughes, Ted Willsey, Elwood Vanderbilt, Mike Willsey, Gerry Chartier, Harold Grippen, Gilbert Zabel (Elwood's grandson), and me, happy.
Tuesday, Dec. 10, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Home Front Café in Altamont. This scribe showed up around 7:30 a.m., and there were already a group of OFs at the Home Front.
These OFs must have busy days planned (at least some do) because they left after a normal time for breakfast, while some of the OFs that were the first ones there were still there when this scribe left, and the scribe remains until the late-comers show up.
Those OFs are having a lot more than a leisurely breakfast; they appear to be hanging around until lunch time. This scribe is beginning to wonder if the wives have told them to get the heck out of the house and not come back.
We continued with one of the favorite pastimes of the OFs — going to the doctor.
One OG mentioned that he is having eye problems and the ophthalmologist’s assistant (whatever they are called) was checking the OG’s eyes. The OG said he has a problem with one eye and the problem is, when light hits it, the OG has to blink quite often. So this assistant is pointing a bright light into the bad eye and telling him not to blink.
Duh, that is part of the problem, and the assistant became irritated because the OG was continually blinking.
The OG said, “What did she think? I was doing it on purpose? I can understand English, and was trying like heck not to blink.”
Then an additional OG said, “Didn't she put one of those clamps on your eyelid to keep it open because the blinking is involuntary?”
“Nope,” the other OG said.
This is the same thing as going to a doctor with a sore back and the doctor tells you to stand up straight. This is another “Duh.”
“If I could,” the OF said, “I would. That is why I am here. I can't stand up straight.”
One OF then opined that there should be some kind of drug that can be administered that would relax the patient so the doctor would be able to push and pull without causing pain that raises the OF’s body off the doctor's table.
“Yeah,” one other OF said of doctors’ tables, “those things should be heated, too. They are so darn cold that, whenever I lie down on one, everything shrivels up to nothing and sometimes I even start to shiver.”
One OF thought the doctors do all this pushing and twisting to see how bad the problem really is, because, if they really wanted us relaxed when we went into the examining room, all they would have to do is give us a joint to smoke in the waiting room before we went in.
Then we would be so relaxed they could twist anything they wanted and we would think it was just a handshake.
“After puffing on one of those,” another OF mused, “when they say, ‘Stand up straight,’ you would snap to attention just like a Marine in basic training.”
Replaced joints don’t dance well
The OFs don't know how many out there are square dancers, but many of the OFs were. The Hay Shakers, The Silver Bullets, The Altamont Station Squares, and The Foot and Fiddle were a few of the clubs that the OFs belonged to.
Before that, when the OFs were YFs and were real stomping square dancers (i.e., eastern style) many OFs/YFs went all around the area to square dances. Popular places were Pat’s Ranch and The Grange Hall in Gallupville, and there was also a site in Clarksville that held dances.
Many fire halls would hold dances and put on buffets to go along with the dance. Good, clean, wild (sometimes a tad more wild than necessary) fun.
The OFs would gather up their girls and a bunch (bunch is used literally here) of YFs would climb in with anyone who had a car that ran and head off to a dance. Sometimes the guys would head out alone, and hook up with someone there and fill in a square.
Farm boys having fun. When the OFs were YFs the music was live — Perley Brand and Bill Chapman had bands, to name a couple of them.
Today, many of the OFs said they would still square dance only their bodies won't let them. Too many hips, knees, and shoulders replaced both on the OFs and on the spouses of the OFs.
That really puts a crimp in square dancing when it is impossible for the OFs to raise their arms or stomp their feet. Tough to "duck for the oyster, dive for the clam.” or "swing that girl,” or "form a star,” or "allemande left, back to your partner, right and left grand."
Try doing these when the OFs’ shoulders are fake, hips are fake, and knees are fake, and all these maneuvers are done at a slow jogging pace.
Cooking connoisseurs
This brought up another strange phenomenon — cooking. Many of the OFs are connoisseurs of cooking, someone else’s that is.
Many have trouble boiling water. Most of the time, the OFs find that others’ cooking is pretty darn good. But there are times when an OF will run across some cooking that puckers the mouth, and causes an immediate gag reflex.
One OF related a story of such an occasion. This OF said that he used to love rhubarb, and strawberry-rhubarb pie until one day he bought one from a church sale. (Said church will remain nameless although mentioned in the dissertation by the OF.)
The OF said one bite brought tears to his eyes; it was the most horrid taste he ever had. He thought it might have been him so he gave a bite to his wife, who had the same reaction.
That pie was immediately designated for disposal in the nearest trash bin. The OF mused that he didn't even think the rats would eat it.
The OF also added that, when this particular church has a bake sale, he still won't purchase anything there because he is afraid he would get something baked by the same person.
Another OF related a similar experience at a square dance (strange connection here with the segment a few paragraphs above) and the club had its pie night. At the break, a group that came together took a pie and, as each one in the square took a bite, they walked in unison to the trashcan and scraped the pieces of pie into it. It was another mouth-puckerer. Almost like a get even thing. (Ask me to bake a pie for your stupid dance, will ya; I'll fix ya, and I will leave out the sugar.) Could be.
Those attending the breakfast at the Home Front Café in Altamont, and not one complaint on the food, or the amount, were: Mark Traver, Glenn Patterson, Jim Heiser, Roger Shafer, Roger Chapman, John Rossmann, Robie Osterman, Harold Guest, Steve Kelly, George Washburn, Frank Pauli, Gary Porter, Mace Porter, Jack Norray, Ken Hughes, Henry Whipple, Bill Rice, Andy Tinning, Bill Krause, Ted Willsey, Jim Rissacher, Elwood Vanderbilt, Harold Grippen, George Christian, and me.
Today’s report will be a bonus report — two weeks for one. The scribe was traveling for the Thanksgiving holiday and unfortunately missed Tuesday, Nov. 25; however, braving mighty obstacles, the scribe was able to make Tuesday, Dec. 2. (Boy oh boy, Christmas is right around the corner, so much to do, so little time.)
On Nov. 25, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Duanesburg Diner, in Duanesburg, and on Dec. 2, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Chuck Wagon in Princetown.
A topic from the Nov. 18 gathering is now quite topical. What do the OFs want, or need for Christmas? For many of the OFs and because the OFs are just that (Old F’s) the giving part was easy — money or gift cards. Most of the OFs’ kids are approaching the point of being OFs themselves and have their own ideas of what they need so give them a few bucks to either get it, or help them out.
Some of the kids say, "Gee Dad, we don't need anything"; that is no fun and many times rings quite hollow.
When the OF says he doesn't need anything, it is generally true. What in the world is the OF going to with more stuff? Ah! But with a few of the OFs “stuff” is their middle name.
However, a gift card to a grocery store is a good thing. The problem here is that the OF will give the kids gift cards to grocery stores, and kids will give the OF a gift card to grocery stores. That is like one log truck going east on the road passing another log truck going west. Duh.
Old stuff
Now, what do the OFs do for fun? The options are as varied as there are OFs.
Some are boat enthusiasts, while others belong to civic organizations; some work at very fine crafts, and others collect stuff.
The stuff collectors have a problem and this has been mentioned before: They are OFs, and the stuff they collect is not dolls, or marbles. This stuff is big like cars, trucks, and tractors (especially tractors) and along with that — old farm equipment.
These antiques are intended by the OFs to be restored and run but now the OFs are running out of time to get them in shape. The OFs are now antiques themselves and they need some tender loving care, and new parts like the equipment they are trying to restore, to get the OF into some kind of workable, running shape.
The conversations of many of the OFs on old antiquities show a knowledge that many museums might wish they had, and, with the OFs at the breakfast tables, this knowledge is just normal talk.
This goes along with their "collections,” much of which are museum pieces. What the OFs need are some young volunteers to work on this "stuff" with the OFs as mentors.
Though, as one OF put it, this is a hands-on, get-dirty, lift-and-lug type of endeavor, not staring at some three-by-four screen while the only muscles used are the ones that control the thumbs, and no real mental skills are involved, just reaction time to something someone else has already done.
One OF just mentioned that he was looking for an old corn sheller, and another OF responded, “What kind?” because he had one.
The first OF said, “One with a cast iron frame,” and the other OF said his was a wood frame.
It wasn't long before a deal was made and the corn sheller might change hands. What kind of group would have that type of machine just lying around and another person looking for one? What type of group (other than the OFs) would even know the difference between a sheller and a husker?
There were no questions asked like, “Why do you want a corn sheller?” Inquiring about a corn sheller is just the OFs’ normal conversations.
Geographic bonding
There are some newer members of the OFs who have been rattling around the Hilltowns for quite some time. Now they are seeing new faces for the first time and trying to connect these faces with where they might know them from, and then they try to relate them to certain pieces of property.
Here begins the lineage of, “Ya know the old Perkins place?”
“Ah yes, that used to be the Moore place.”
“Nah, the old Moore place used to be by the Jacobs place at the corner of Blah and Jump roads.”
“Are you sure? I thought that was the Adams house.”
“No, the Adams house was around the corner where the two big oaks are.”
On and on until the real place of where they knew each other link up. Makes no difference who lives there now, the OFs go back to who built the place during or just after the Revolutionary War.
Then comes the connecting of the friends or relatives of forty, fifty, or sixty years ago. It is surprising to many of the OFs how a little bit of geography is a bonding agent.
Sympathy extended
The Old Men of the Mountain offer their deepest sympathies to the family of Carl Slater, a long-standing and loyal member of the OMOTM for many years, who passed away at the age of 84. He will be greatly missed.
The Old Men of the Mountain also offer their sympathies to Miner Stevens whose brother-in-law passed away on Tuesday, Dec. 2. The OMOTM condolences go to Miner and his family also.
Those OFs attending the breakfast at the Duanesburg Diner and probably spoke freely because the scribe wasn't there to tattle on them, were: Duncan Bellinger, Harold Guest, Andy Tinning, Frank Pauli, Steve Kelly, Roger Schafer, Roger Chapman, Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Glenn Patterson, Otis Lawyer, Mark Traver, Garry Porter, Mace Porter, Jack Norray, Lou Schenck, Elwood Vanderbilt, Gerry Chartier, Harold Grippen, Ted Willsey, Jim Rissacher, and not me.
Those OFs who made it to the Chuck Wagon in Princetown and solved most of the nation’s problems by going back in time when the nation was number one in many things and now seems to be leading in not much, were: Karl Remmers, Roger Schafer, Roger Chapman, Steve Kelly, Dick Ogsbury, George Washburn, Robie Osterman, Frank Pauli, John Rossmann, Bill Krause, Lou Schenck, Ken Hughes, Jack Norray, Gary Porter, Mace Porter, Mike Willsey, Harold Grippen, Elwood Vanderbilt, Gerry Chartier, Henry Whipple, Jim Rissacher, Ted Willsey, Harold Guest, and me.
On Tuesday, Nov. 19, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Blue Star Restaurant in Schoharie.
It was noted that there was a big change in the weather from the 18th of November to the 19th, but what the people in the Midwest and the people in the Philippines are going through right now (and who knows how many more people are) a few-degrees drop in temperature is nothing we have to worry about. We only know that it is time to put another log on the fire.
The OFs sat in the comfort of the Blue Star and had breakfast, and this old sphere just keeps spinning around and around; the OFs just sit there and talk about the flood in another building close by that just a short time ago was full of water.
The people who have such great events enter into their lives will relate time from then on to these events. The OFs are still talking about the flood (from Tropical Storm Irene in 2011) and it came up again Tuesday morning along with dialogue concerning recent tornadoes and the typhoon.
This talk was about something that not too many have even considered, i.e., paperwork that is kept at lawyers’ offices for safekeeping, and safe-deposit boxes at banks for the same reason.
One OF said the safe-deposit box situation hit home with him because his deposit box was in a bank vault that filled with water; however, his box was on the top shelf and the water stopped just a few inches below it. The boxes below were under water and these boxes are not waterproof.
The OF said, “You think you have all your bases covered and Mother Nature has a subtle way of saying, ‘Hold on a second. I have something to say about that.’”
The OFs wonder if those who say time heals all wounds — well, does it really?
As one OF put it, “That statement probably emanates from someone who has not experienced whatever tragedy is the point of conversation. ‘Walk a mile in my shoes’ is a better quote and, after that mile, see if ‘time heals’ still fits.”
Wither the Monarchs?
One OF posed the question, “How many of you OFs have seen the Monarch butterfly this year?”
You know, no one within earshot of the OF who asked the question could remember seeing one. This OF said that a fungus, similar to the White Nose syndrome of bats, brought on by the strange weather early in the year, did a real number on the Monarch.
This OF said that he had read that they might not make a comeback because they were so badly affected. Well, that was said about the bats and the bald eagle and they are making remarkable comebacks.
Let’s hope that the Monarch rebounds quickly because they are great pollinators.
Along with this came a few comments on the number of deer, which seems to be less, along with squirrels and rabbits, at least in the areas the OFs are from. This may not be true elsewhere. There may be places where the deer are taking over; the same with squirrels and rabbits.
Have a plan
One OF brought up a problem that is not too uncommon. This OF has a friend with whom he normally converses by phone at least once a week. This friend lives alone and he does not live that close by.
The OF said he has been unable to reach him in the last two weeks and was wondering if he should call the authorities to go and check on him. The OFs think that it is a good thing to have a plan in case this should happen to one of us.
At the ages of some of the OFs, this is a possibility.
One OF suggested that this is why people should be part of something like seniors, or a church, or the American Legion, or Veterans of Foreign Wars — some organization that would be concerned if your habits changed.
In this case, there might be someone to check on you and see if you are OK.
Know-how in demand
Another topic came up that was not specific to an OF problem, and that is, when someone has a particular talent, or expertise, and belongs to an organization that takes advantage of that talent or expertise. In this case, it was running sound equipment that one OF seems to know what he is doing.
To this particular OF, it is a simple job. But, and this is a big but, this OF is not always around when the equipment is being run.
Another OF mentioned that an organization he belongs to has the same problem and the guy who knows how to run the equipment is not around much of the time either. The OF said that he has everything color coded — the white wire to the white receptacle etc., etc.
And the OF said he has given instructions more than once on how to shut it down and start it up. Ditto with the other OF; however, these instructions seem to fall on deaf ears. Not really deaf ears: The people being trained know what to do at the time and maybe a month or so later but that information eventually becomes lost in the six inches of gray matter between the ears because it is not used and so enters the nether land of the brain.
One OF came to the defense of those who are not familiar with using sound equipment. The OF who has the know-how uses his knowledge quite frequently, where the others might only have to use it once a year, and the OF relating this mentioned he is quite familiar with the short-term memory loss in this type of surrounding.
Things start making noises that the untrained OF is not familiar with and he goes a little berserk thinking the whole thing is falling apart and he does not want to be responsible for pushing the wrong button and blowing the whole business up. All this OF can think of is to pull the plug and wait for the OF who knows what he is doing to come and fix it.
The reader can insert appliance or whatever into the slot where sound system is mentioned. Wait for someone who knows what to do to show up. That is the best answer!
Those OFs who showed up at the Blue Star Restaurant in Schoharie on that rather blustery Tuesday morning and were glad nothing needed fixing before they came, were: Roger Chapman, Mark Traver, John Rossmann, Robie Osterman, Glenn Patterson, Harold Guest, Andy Tinning, Steve Kelly, Roger Shafer, Miner Stevens, Duncan Bellinger, Gary Porter, Mace Porter, Bill Keale, Lou Schenck, Don Moser, Jack Norray, Bill Krause, Ted Willsey, Mike Willsey, Jim Rissacher, Harold Grippen, Gerry Chartier, Don Wood, Elwood Vanderbilt, and me.
Give one big Whoop for Tuesday, because Tuesday, Nov. 12, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Country Café in Schoharie. This restaurant, like many of the restaurants the OFs attack, has that early morning welcome sign, which is not in words but the smell of eggs and bacon cooking as the OFs walk down the sidewalk from their cars to the restaurant.
The OFs mention this quite often because it is like a magnet drawing the OFs to the front door.
The OFs think that one way to end a battle on the front lines would be to have each army set up their cook tents along the front and start cooking breakfast. As soon as that aroma wafted over to either side, the OFs bet that both sides would set down their arms, grab their mess kits, and go have breakfast — maybe even together.
One OF said that, in today’s wars, there doesn't seem to be enemy lines. It just seems to be skirmishes, or car bombs, or suicide bombers, or blowing up school buses full of kids going to school.
One offered even drones — no one around — just an unmanned flying machine. Another OF said he still doesn't understand what the wars are about.
“All I know,” the OF said, “is what I read in the paper and none of that seems to make much sense.”
This OF didn't understand how making breakfast would help today. “Who is the bad guy, who is the good guy?” the OF asked. “Does anyone know, or has most of the world gone crazy?”
Bald man’s lament
On a lighter note, the more important question asked was: Why do we OFs who are bald have to pay the same amount for a haircut as some guy with a ton of hair?
One OF said that he has sat along the wall in the barbershop waiting while some guy in the barber chair gets coifed and it take 20 minutes or more, and he gets in the chair and it is whirr-shear, eyebrows snipped, neck shaved, and out! The OF is out of the chair in five minutes max, yet he pays the same as the guy with the half-hour hairdo.
“That is not the lament of just us OFs,” said an OF. “That is the lament of all the bald guys.”
“Maybe that is where the barber shops make their profit,” a different OF mused.
“It is tough finding a barber shop now,” one OF added.
He needed a haircut and his wife made him go to one of those sissy places. The OF said that was a mistake.
He told the girl (hair stylist?) he just wanted a haircut. The first thing this girl did was lead him to the sink and wash his hair.
“What! Did she think I had lice or something? I told her I just washed it this morning in the shower.”
Then the girl got the back of his shirt so wet that, even after being toweled off, his shirt was too uncomfortable to wear. After he left the shop, the OF walked down the mall and bought a shirt and undershirt at K-Mart because the OF said he was soaked and freezing.
To top it all off, this girl who had “cut” his hair had spent half the time snipping at the air with the scissors, and not really doing much cutting. When he got home, the OF looked in the mirror and said he still looked the same as when he went in the (Salon?). He was still in need of a haircut — what a rip-off.
“Give me a guy barbershop any day, where I can still get a haircut and don't have to go back every week, and have some chatty, snippety young thing click her scissors in the air to make me feel like I am getting my hair cut,” the OG concluded.
One OF said he thought prices should be pro-rated at the barber shop: X number of dollars for a five-minute cut, and X number for 10 minutes, X number for 20 minutes and so on.
“Then,” the OF said, “you can go in and say, ‘I want a 10-minute special’ and be out of the chair in 10 minutes.”
“That might not work,” said another OF. “If you had a fine head of hair like me, which takes awhile to cut, and you ask for the 10-minute special. The barber may only have enough time to cut half the hair on your head and you would go out of the shop looking kind of weird.”
Then one OF said, “Don’t mess with what the barber does; remember he is the one with the razor in his hand.”
Felons in office?
The OFs, discussed something that they didn't know (what?), at least at this scribe’s end of the table and that was convicted felons running for political office and winning the election.
“Sure,” one OF said, “look at Marion Barry, one of the former mayors of Washington, D.C. itself; he was a convicted felon.”
This scribe did a little checking — the key word here is little — but the basic answer is: yes. The Constitution says felons can even — while in prison — be elected for federal office (House and Senate) and serve from jail.
However, there are some in this body but suffice it to say the House or Senate can expel them because they are bad guys. The states have nothing to say about this.
Voting and holding elected office for state or other offices differs by state, but in many cases the answer is: yes. This scribe could not find where it differentiated between murder and stealing candy from a baby. (Then again, this scribe used to read a lot; now this scribe reads two pages, falls asleep, and has to go back and read over what he just read and fall asleep again. Takes awhile to read a book now but this scribe gets plenty of naps.)
Brain lapses
The OFs have a new name for lapses of information in a normal conversation.
One OF was talking to another OF, and was going to tell the first OF about someone in the hospital. In the middle of the sentence, he stopped talking because the name of the OF in the hospital went right out of his head.
So the OF who started the conversation had to stop right there because the whole purpose of the conversation was gone. About 15 minutes later, the OF shouted out the name. The name sifted its way through all the clogged-up brain cells until it found its way out.
Another OF said to the OF across from him, “How about the time I asked you about your granddaughter and you couldn't remember her name?”
“Yeah, you OG. You asked me that in front of 40 people.”
The other OF said, “How was I supposed to know you would forget her name; she was only five chairs down from where we sitting.”
What are these brain lapses?
One OF said, at our ages, they are the same as Brain "F---s". The OF agreed because none of us can escape them.
A different OF said that, when it happens to him, he starts to recite the alphabet and, generally, when he comes to the letter that pertains to the thought, the lost thought usually comes to mind.
One OF said that sometimes, when it happens to him unconsciously, it must rattle around in his head somewhere because at the darndest time he will blurt out something like "Charlie Chaplin,” or "Mickey Mouse" for no reason at all.
Those OFs who made it to the Country Café, and did not forget (maybe because their wives pushed them out the door) were: Steve Kelly, Roger Shafer, Andy Tinning, Dave Williams, Harold Guest, Robie Osterman, Roger Chapman, Glenn Patterson, Jim Heiser, Mark Traver, George Washburn, John Rossmann, Mace Porter, Jack Norray, Ken Hughes, Gary Porter, Bill Keale, Miner Stevens, Bill Rice, Henry Whipple, Ted Willsey, Jim Rissacher, Mike Willsey, Bill Krause, Harold Grippen, Gerry Chartier, Duncan Bellinger, and me.
On Nov. 5, the Old Men of the Mountain met at Mrs. K's Restaurant in Middleburgh, and everybody was up and running, particularly those that run the restaurant. Most of the time, early morning is the best time of day, especially if the OF happens to be an “A” person.
The fifth was one of those days. At the breakfast that morning, Loretta thanked all the OFs for coming to her birthday party, and presenting her with flowers and a hat that has the OMOTM logo on it.
Hey, the OFs will go anywhere for a free meal. Well really, maybe not anywhere. Like the words “always,” “never,” and the phrase “American people” (without the caveat “some” or “most” preceding the word American) are no-no’s.
On Saturday, Oct. 12, Middleburgh held its Fall Harvest Parade, and some of the OFs participated in this annual event. The OFs didn't walk the parade route. One OF had an old tractor and another had an old horse-drawn grader. According to the OFs, the parade was over an hour long and very well attended.
Anyone familiar with the village of Middleburgh knows it has one main road in from the north or south to the Schoharie creek. Even locals — if they are caught before any of the side streets start through the village — find there is no way around, and then these people are in for the duration.
One OF mentioned that, for him to get home from the parade, he was caught in the line of traffic, and this OF is a long-time Middleburger. The OF said there was no ducking in and out of the side streets to get around traffic.
Other OFs mentioned about being caught in small-town parades with only one way in and one way out and just hanging out until the parade is over; one OF added that, when the parade is over, then the traffic becomes a parade itself.
The Memorial Day parades in Schoharie and Esperance were also mentioned as parades where the unsuspecting driver is trapped until the parade marches on. One OF mentioned, if this happens and you are not too far back, pull the car to the side of road, get out, walk down, and join the crowd, enjoy some fried dough, get a few balloons, and a couple of flags before you go on your way. You might just as well enjoy the parade because you are going to be there anyway.
Who’s without caries?
The next topic that came up was “Going to the Dentist.” The poor dentist has the reputation of running a torture chamber. Dentists should be dressed in black, with earrings in their ears, and whips hanging on the walls, according to the OFs.
Most of the OFs do not like going to the dentist but off they go and, again, most find out nowadays it is not that bad. The OFs claim it is best to go periodically, and have regular maintenance and little things taken care of before they become major problems and can really hurt.
The sensation of Novocain is not pleasant, according to the OFs, but many would rather put up with that and not have it hurt while at the dentist. A few OFs say they will not take Novocain for minor stuff because the dentist works in your mouth only a short time and the hurt is over when he stops.
However, with Novocain, the OF said he is biting his tongue, drooling, and conversing with slurred speech until it wears off, and then the OF said, after it wears off, he still feels some of the discomfort from the dental work.
An OG then opined, “That is what you get, you guys that kept your own teeth. Mine come out at night and go in, in the morning, along with my hearing aids, and glasses. That is, once I take the teeth out of the Efferdent, put new batteries in the aids, and clean my glasses, I am set to go.”
“Yeah,” one OF answered, “if you lose all that stuff, you are walking into walls because you can't see, stepping in front of buses because you can't hear, and living on soup because you can't chew. I'll put up with the dentist twice a year.”
Voting “yes”
on older judges
This past Tuesday was Election Day and some politics were discussed but not much. Sitting at the table of the OMOTM was one councilman, one former councilman, and a former town board supervisor. The consensus of this group seemed to be that serving in these capacities is like being married, but with no fun thrown in.
Only two topics came up on how people were going to vote. It seemed (at least to this scribe) that one issue was a “no” vote on casino gambling and the other was a “yes” vote for older judges. What would one expect from this group?
More specifically, regarding the vote for older judges, the OFs say they still have the mental capacity to say, "Throw the bum in jail,” so what more is necessary?
The OFs will have to wait until next Tuesday to discuss how it all turned out.
Those attending the breakfast at Mrs. K's Restaurant in Middleburgh, who had already been to the polls, or were headed to the polls, were: Andy Tinning, Don Wood, Harold Guest, George Washburn, Glenn Patterson, Roger Shafer, Roger Chapman, Steve Kelly, Jim Heiser, Mark Traver, Robie Osterman, John Rossmann, Duncan Bellinger, Mace Porter, Ken Hughes, Gary Porter, Jack Norray, Harold Guest, Mike Willsey, Gerry Chartier, Ted Willsey, Jim Rissacher, Bill Krause, and me.
On Tuesday, Oct. 22, the OMOTM met at the Hilltown Café in Rensselaerville, with another ride through the autumn colors of the Hilltowns. As many OFs put it, there is no need to ram all over the Northeast to see spectacular displays of fall colors splayed out against the hillsides. All it takes is a short ride into the hills that form the Hudson and Mohawk valleys, and all the color of nature is spread like a quilt before the eyes of the traveler.
Although one OF said that heading for Vermont or New Hampshire to capture the views is a good reason to travel someplace. It gives an excuse just to get away and visit some gift shop to pay 50 bucks for something that is available at Wal-Mart for a couple of bucks, but it is fun to escape.
That is one of the many reasons the OFs escape to the Hilltown Café, just to get away and have a great breakfast doing it.
To follow that same train of thought, the OFs talked about relaxing. That is a frequent occurrence with the OFs; relaxing is not a problem with them.
One thing they know is how to relax. Some are so relaxed that, when found in their chair doing just that, the finder is ready to call Digger Odell, but occasionally the chest of the OF heaves up and down and the finder realizes that the OF is just relaxed.
Then there are the few OFs who said they have trouble relaxing because they are so wound up with what to do next, and sometimes family problems are so pressing that relaxing seems to be out of the question.
Some OFs maintain that the rocking chair will do them in. They have to be doing something, and not just anything, but something with value. Some still work, many volunteer, and some have hobbies that require lots of concentration and are not completed in a day or so.
Others are stress free. These OFs seem to be in a constant state of relaxation. The outcome of both of these conditions — wound tight or stress free — is that both (as far as the OFs go) have contributed to pretty darn good long lives.
As one OF said, “Why am I supposed to believe some snot-nosed kid telling me how to live long? For crying out loud,” the OF continued, “I am 87 and still going strong, and this specialist who is still in diapers is so worried about me living long that he will be standing in line when he is only 50 years old with all the other ‘tell them how to live’ 50-year-old people, at the pearly gates waiting for them to open in the morning.”
The OF raved on about how this same 50-something at the pearly gates will be looking down at us OFs below. While his grave is being dug by some retired OF who has had fried eggs, bacon, hash browns with gravy, toast and black coffee for breakfast, the 50- year-old at the gates just had half a grapefruit, a glass of water, and dry toast for breakfast, and died on his morning run.
“Nature gone berserk”
The OFs were wondering how much more we can take from under the Earth before the Earth starts collapsing on itself.
As one OF mentioned, “The crust becomes so thin that the magma breaks through and creates volcanoes and mountains where cities once were.”
Nature abhors a vacuum, so, when all the oil is pumped out, what fills the space? When all the coal is mined, what fills the space? Does water rush in, and from where?
One OF mentioned all these sink holes that are cropping up. What made the hole that they are sinking into?
One other OF said he thought these sink holes have been evolving forever, only, with real-time communications and the ability to report happenings from just about anyplace on the globe, we are now hearing about them more.
“Yeah, but,” one more OG alleged, “that is not what the problem is because, years ago, no one was taking the stuff from under the ground; the wheel hadn't even been invented yet.”
To which the other OF responded, “Maybe not when you were around, but the wheel was around when I was.”
“That’s right,” a third OF joined in, “but the wheel when you were around didn't have a hole in it yet.”
One OF mentioned all these offshore oilrigs. He exclaimed, “I hope they are pumping water back in where the oil was because, if that hole caves in and the ocean rushes in and meets the molten magna, man! That will be some display of nature gone berserk.”
Still working at 80
Generally, the OFs meet on Tuesday morning at the next restaurant in line; however, this week, many of the OFs met twice. The OMOTM met again on Wednesday at Mrs. K's in Middleburgh to help celebrate Loretta's (the proprietor of Mrs. K’s restaurant) 80th birthday.
Not only were the OMOTM there but half the county as well. (This scribe has maybe let the cat out of the bag, maybe Loretta does not want everyone to know she is 80. Oh well, there were so many people there, it definitely is not a secret.)
Many OMOTM showed up to help Loretta celebrate. Loretta was a high school classmate of some of the guests and some of the OFs. When asked when she was going to retire, she replied she is not going to retire — she enjoys the work and the people. As long as she can do the work, she will be at the restaurant. Congratulations.
Those OFs who we able to make it to the breakfast at the Hilltown Café in Rensselaerville and grateful that none of the restaurants have thrown us out, yet, were: Ken Hughes, Lou Schenck, Mace Porter, Gary Porter, Bill Keal, Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Frank Pauli, John Rossmann, Harold Guest, Glenn Patterson, Jim Heiser, Bill Krause, Roger Chapman, Miner Stevens, Andy Tinney, Bill Rice, Henry Whipple, Elwood Vanderbilt, Gill Zadle, Ted Willsey, Jim Rissacher, Mike Willsey, Harold Grippen, Gerry Chartier, and me.
Oh my! It is Tuesday again and there might be 52 of them a year, so it should not come as a surprise but for some reason it quite often does.
On Oct. 15, it was a Tuesday and the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Home Front Café in Altamont. The Old Ladies of the Mountain could get to together and start a weekly breakfast and give a report on what they talk about — the comparison would be interesting.
The OFs wonder if they would be part of any discussions. Maybe, as one OF put it, we are flattering ourselves. Since we don't talk about them, why should they talk about us?
It may be unusual but ladies don't come up very often with the OFs, nor does much foul language. Hmmm, could that be because there is a significant drop in testosterone in this group?
The eyes have it
Many of the OFs have had and do have eye problems, or situations. They are not going blind; it is just age.
Cataracts, dry eyes, glaucoma, detached retinas, and wandering eyes (different wandering eyes than when the OFs were between the ages of 13 and 14 to 40, although some still have that young-age affliction). Most of these aliments require putting eye drops in the eyes.
One OF said he has his wife do it, another said he does it himself, one said he sits down, another standing up, another lying down. One OF said the manufacturers of the eye-drop solutions make their money more on the amount that runs down the OF’s cheek than what goes in the eye.
The techniques are different also. One OF said he just tips his head back and squirts the drops right in, while another said he puts the drop on the side of his nose, then tips his head and the solution runs in.
The one who has his wife put it in for him said he holds his eye open while his wife squirts it in. This OF says that he has to hold his eye open or it blinks shut and all the eye-drop solution does is get on his eyelid.
On OG said that his opthamolic solution is wetter than water; his eye doctor told him that a duck can't swim in this stuff because the duck would sink.
One OF thought about the artist on TV who draws paint up his nose, and squirts it out his eye to make the painting. The question was, how did this screwball ever figure out he could do this?
One OF said, now that this is out, how many people are going to try and duplicate this because these paintings (which look like so much scribble) are selling for big bucks.
Another OG wondered not that he can do this, but who are the nutcases that buy this junk? To which one OG replied, each to his own thing; so what if they have the money, at least they will have a neat conversation piece.
Errant drivers
The OFs discuss the following topic quite often, and it generally follows an event that happens to one or more of the OFs on their way to the restaurant — and that is driving.
Tuesday, not only one group of OFs, but two groups, were cut off by inattentive drivers. Both drivers were not stopping for stop signs, and, in one case, not even slowing down. In that case, not only did the OFs just avoid the errant vehicle, but so did a vehicle coming from the opposite direction. If that connection of three cars ever happened, the jerk shooting out of the side road would have been double T-boned.
One OF commented, “Where did they get their license? At Woolworths?”
Shifting shopping
Now, to the OFs, that meant something, but to many in today’s world that doesn't mean diddle-dib. Who was Woolworth? For that matter who was Montgomery Ward, or W.T. Grant, or J.J. Newbury? What is a Packard, or Studebaker, or even a Kaiser? The name Woolworth just came out from the mouth of the OF.
Today it would be Wal-Mart, and that would be about it. To shop like the OFs were once able to do is gone.
The OFs once could go to Montgomery Ward on Broadway in Menands, and purchase anything from a tractor, to socks and underwear, to toys and camping gear. Even more — from plumbing supplies, to top-quality tools, from barbed wire to fence posts, from fishing poles to shotguns, from medical supplies to furniture and appliances, all in the same store.
If it wasn't there in the store, there was always the catalogue department where the OF was able to pick out what he needed. After placing his order, the OF had to hang around and wait for his number to be called from the cavernous warehouse and then the OF would go pick it up.
While waiting, it was possible to run across to the White Tower and get a hamburger, or, if the OF wanted to go fancy, he could go to the restaurant in the store.
Shopping then was a trip and an experience that the whole family looked forward to.
“Now,” as one OF said, “Shopping is a chore.”
“And,” another OF added, “it was possible to get a hunting license at either Montgomery Ward, or Sears and Roebuck.”
Woolworth had its food counter and all those tropical fish and fish tanks. Again, one OF said, “Whatever really did happen to Randolph Scott?”
“Times change,” an OG said. “Now we are stuck with Wal-Mart; about the only fun store left is Tractor Supply.”
Banding together
The OMOTM has one of it members in the hospital at the time this is being written. The OFs wish him a speedy recovery and that he comes back to the fold soon.
This OF being in the hospital brought up discussions on how hospitals are also changing to "keep up with the times.” The OFs can (kinda) understand this situation with how expensive it is becoming to stay in the hospital, and the expenses they incur.
Sometimes banding together is a good thing. Farmers try it all the time but farmers are independent people and it never really quite works.
“Doctors are banding together in groups,” one OG said.
He thinks that one of the major contributors to this banding in the medical profession is because insurance companies are forcing the issue since everything is getting so complicated that someone who has an individual practice has to hire a Philadelphia lawyer just to keep up with the paperwork, so much so that the poor individual doctor has no time left for doctoring.
“Then,” an OF added, “it could be the malpractice law suits, and insurance for that which pushes the medical bills way up too.”
“Boy,” one OG said, “chase anything down and, when you get to the bottom, it is always the money — too much or not enough.”
Those OFs who lumbered into the Home Front Café in Altamont for this week’s breakfast and were making plans to go shop at the fun place were: Roger Shafer, Steve Kelly, Henry Witt, Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Miner Stevens, John Rossmann, Frank Pauli, Lou Schenck, Jack Norray, Gary Porter, Bill Krause, Otis Lawyer, Glenn Paterson, Jim Heiser, Andy Tinning, Ted Willsey, Jim Rissacher, Henry Whipple, Elwood Vanderbilt, Harold Grippen, Mike Willsey, Joe Loubier, Gerry Chartier, and me.
Tuesday, Oct. 8, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown. Maybe the OFs have mentioned this before, but people going to work in the early spring and early fall and traveling east on Route 20, must have a difficult job with the sun in their eyes on an especially bright fall day. There are times in the morning when going that way, the sun catches your eye as you crest a rise in the road and the driver becomes blinded for a few seconds.
One OF said he had this experience and he could not even see the windshield of his own car, and that was with the visor down and sunglasses on. Heaven forbid there is anything or anybody in the road at that time.
One OF asked if anyone is ready for Halloween, and the OF received the standard OF reply, "Yep, I have my mask on already."
Another OF chimed in, "I'm going trick-or-treating naked so I can get my year’s supply of candy, and no one knows I am naked; they think it is a great costume and I get great stuff."
One OF asked, “Isn't Halloween a little cold to be running around naked?"
"That’s the point," the OF said, "The colder the better and, with all my wrinkles, scars, warts, and bumps, and a pair of clod-hoppers, tie, and a hat everyone thinks it is a cool get-up."
“You are going to get arrested, you old coot."
"Nah, won't happen; I just hit up relatives," the OF replied.
Besting the boss
Most of the OFs are retired from whatever. One of the topics that came up Tuesday morning was former bosses.
Some bosses were good; some a pain in the butt. The bosses we remembered the most were the ones who were not that popular. The OFs were relating stories on how they got, not actually even — but maybe in a way it was — with stunts the OFs pulled on the bosses that were pains.
Some of these stunts were quite clever, but some of the OFs just smiled and, come to find out, they were bosses at one time or another, or business owners — not the bosses in question because there was no correlation between the OFs even working together or for the same companies that these OFs did when they were bosses.
This led the conversation into talking about different kinds of people. With the conversation going down this path, the phenomenon of aura appears to have some credence of being real.
OF One can meet an OF Two for the first time and instantly not like OF Two, but OF Three can meet OF Two for the first time and instantly take a liking to OF Two. Bring in OF Four, and he can tolerate OFs One, Two, and Three, but really likes the new guy, OF Five. OFs One, Two, Three, and Four, all like the new OF Five. This is aura.
This is what happens with bosses. When the auras don't mesh, these bosses become real pains in the neck to the one that doesn’t click.
Then again, some bosses are just bums regardless of the aura. The OFs were talking about one boss that some knew because they had worked for him and others knew him more or less (the emphasis is on less) socially and the consensus of opinion of the OFs was that the guy was a jerk.
The question became how someone like that gets to be a boss; now that the OFs are retired they can look back more objectively. The OFs agreed that most of the decisions this boss made were right, whether they liked it or not.
Then there are those bosses who are in charge that don't know a darn thing. The workers are continually covering up for their boss’s mistakes; one OF said he had to cover up the mistakes or lose his job. The OFs agreed this makes for a tough work environment.
The OFs had trouble knowing how this character (to them) got his job because nothing he did was right. The OFs attributed this to cronyism. This particular boss was in cahoots with his boss, and the workers are caught between a rock and a hard place.
“Boy,” one OF said, “I am glad I am retired now and all I have to contend with is the wife, and with that boss I am always wrong — even when I am right, I am wrong.”
Wedding woes
The OFs took up the subject of making plans with the family and how nerve-wracking this can be especially when the plans involve weddings. The logistics of getting everyone to a family event and not hurting anyone's feelings is hard. It is harder than working for a miserable boss.
One OF said, “Don't get involved; that is women's work.”
Another OG said, “That is my motto, too. I go where I am told, when I am told, and get what is on the list.”
One OF said he chauffeured his wife to one of these planning events with the other ladies and, instead of just dropping her off and going to the nearest bar, he went in with the planning group.
The OF said that they seemed to be in a real quandary and he offered what he thought was a simple solution and the OF said, “I might just as well have thrown a hornet’s nest in the middle of that group. Retreat was the better part of valor so I got out of there.”
Those OFs who retreated to the Chuck Wagon Diner in Princetown, just to escape whatever and be among those of like aura, were: John Rossmann, Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Karl Remmers, Frank Pauli, Steve Kelley, Roger Shafer, Henry Witt, Miner Stevens, Roger Chapman, Bill Keal, Ken Hughes, Gary Porter, Mace Porter, Jack Norray, Harold Guest, Ted Willsey, Rich Donnelly, Jim Rissacher, Bob Lassome, Joe Loubier, Henry Whipple, Mike Willsey (with daughter Amy), Gerry Chartier, Harold Grippen, Elwood Vanderbilt, and me.
On Tuesday, Oct. 1, the first day of the new month, the Old Men of the Mountain met at the Duanesburg Diner in Duanesburg. It takes about an hour for the OFs to dribble in.
This is a good thing because, by the time the latecomers arrive, some of the early birds have flown the nest. This makes room in the restaurants, and the waitresses and the cooks do not have to get 25 to 30 breakfasts ready all at once.
This scribe was perusing his notes for the OMOTM report and thought it might be interesting to list what he has on his little 3- by 5-inch notebook. The notes start out like this: dreams, dying, sunrise, farming, roadside farm stands, construction, getting dressed, slept in house, weather, Wal-Mart, prices of groceries and gas (again, where the best place is to buy it) — and those are just some of the topics.
At least the ones this scribe put notes to — on paper — because this scribe was running out of room on his little pad. Now to try and relate what these notes pertain to.
The note on getting dressed referred back to a discussion the OFs had about when they were younger how they threw on what they were going to wear in about 90 seconds. Now, it is completely different.
The shower takes some of the time but for some reason this process seems shorter than when the OFs were younger, but this is the only process that does seem to be shorter. The OFs stand at the end of the dresser with their shorts in their hands and wiggle around a bit — doing a little dance to get the first leg through without falling over.
OK — the OF is that far, then he leans against the wall or dresser and thinks a little bit, then flings his other leg up, gets this leg through the leg hole in the shorts, and now the OF is ready to hike the shorts up, and he finds they are on backwards!
The fly is to the rear. It is going to be one of those days.
Then the undershirt is pulled over his head and back, and it gets all balled up and won’t pull down, so, after the exercise of the shower, the OF now has the exercise of tugging at the shirt with considerable force to get it down. OK!
Now all the OF has is shirts, pants, socks, and shoes to complete the ensemble and the OF looks at this pile of fabric and leather like they are an enemy. However, the OF is ready to attack each one with abandon and win these battles even if it takes half the morning.
New digs
It seems that, not long ago, this scribe reported on one OF building a new home and the wet weather causing problems getting things done. That was early summer.
At Tuesday morning’s breakfast, this OF reported that Monday night he and his wife slept in their new house. It is finished and most all the furniture is moved in and they are ready to go.
They will now celebrate Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas in their new home. That must be a great feeling. Everything is new — no more leaky faucets, or having an old furnace conk out, or old storm doors that don't shut.
But just wait; there are bugs in that new home waiting to pop up that will need to be attended to. No matter how new a place the OFs move into, the first things to be moved are the OF’s tools.
Sweet dreams?
The OFs talked about their dreams, and along with that — sleeping. A couple of the OFs have gone through the sleep studies for sleep apnea.
One OF stuck it out for two days, and one gave up in just a couple of hours. The one that stuck it out said these studies worked great and he now sleeps well at night. The other OF says he still wakes up early, but to this OF that is a good thing because he gets a lot done in the wee hours of the morning.
Both these OFs said being involved in these studies is quite a process, i.e., trying to sleep with wires stuck all over your head. Some OFs say they take a sleeping aid to go to sleep, while others claim they are asleep before their heads hit the pillow.
Some of the OFs said they dream some real nasty stuff and don't like their dreams; others said they are just dreams, and some say they don't dream at all. Well, they probably do dream but just can't recall the dreams.
One OF mentioned that, suddenly, he started having dreams that were so bad he was afraid to go to sleep at night. This OF said that, at one of his bi-annual check-ups at the cardiologist, he happened to mention this just in passing.
The cardiologist said, oops, don't take another pill (now the OF couldn't remember which pill it was) and the cardiologist replaced the pill with something else and the dreams stopped immediately. This OF suggested to the OF that was having those constant bad dreams to check his meds.
Calculating COLA
The OFs do not know where the government gets the idea that there is very little cost-of-living increase, so the cost-of-living index is small. The OFs would like to know what planet they are living on.
One OF thought that it might be because we are living in New York, and other states do not see the increases in taxes, gas, food, and heating fuel, that we see here and they base their information on the country as a whole for this index.
With a quick glance at the Internet, this scribe found the following information. For instance, gas in South Carolina is $3.06 per gallon, Michigan $3.36, New York $3.67, and California is $3.87. The average of these four states is $3.49.
Just by using gas prices as an example, we found that bread, and a pair of (same brand) jeans averaged out about the same. However, with the average income in the same four states, New York ranked fourth with $52,000 per year, California ranked next at 15th with $45,000 per year, Michigan comes in at 35th with $37,000 per year, and South Carolina comes in at 48th with an average income of $34,000 per year.
South Carolina has the least disparity from rich to poor while New York and California have the highest disparity from rich to poor. In New York and California, people, like many of the OFs, are on fixed incomes because fewer people are holding the big bucks and that skews the facts and the little guy is left holding the bag.. — more information than you want.
Therefore, someone making $52,000 a year does not have the same problem paying $3.67 for a gallon of gas as the people making $24,000 to $25,000 a year — big difference, and there are a lot more of the $24,00-a-year guys than there are the fat cats.
The OFs have spoken, and this is a close to politics as the OFs get. The OFs do get into some weighty stuff that has to be checked out, and this is so convoluted the readers are invited to go to the net and get their own information.
The bylaws of the OMOTM are designed to keep harmony so the group limits discussions on politics, religion, and wayward women, and on making overt passes at the waitresses.
Prefer a quick death
Now for dying. This is short.
The OFs would rather have a weak internal system than a strong internal system. It seems some OFs drag out the dying process by having strong constitutions and they are in wheelchairs, in pain, on oxygen, or in nursing homes for years.
Many of the OFs, say, have a bad ticker and, when it ticks its last tick, you are done. The OFs don’t want any of this prolonged, agonizing hanging around where the OF just becomes a burden to his kids, or a human guinea pig for the doctors.
Those OFs who made it to the breakfast at the Duanesburg Diner in Duanesburg, and none planning on dying any time soon, were: Miner Stevens, Henry Witt, Roger Shafer, Roger Chapman, Steve Kelly, Robie Osterman, George Washburn, Bill Bartholomew, Dave Williams, Mark Traver, Glenn Patterson, Frank Pauli, Harold GUEST, John Rossmann, Gary Porter, Mace Porter, Jack Norray, Ken Hughes, Lou Schenck, Duncan Bellinger, Bill Lassome, Rich Donnelly, Bob Benac, Jim Rissacher, Joe Loebier, Duane Wagenbaugh, Elwood Vanderbilt, Gerry Chartier, Harold Grippen, Mike Willsey, and me.