A T-bone doesn't always taste as good as it looks
So I figured "what the heck! I'll break my cardinal rule, let my friend save forty cents, and I'll buy a couple of candy bars".
As we left the smokeshop, I thought, "well, my friend saved forty cents and I got two candy bars - the least he could have done was bought me a candy bar, after all I did save him forty cents".
I pulled up to the road, which is a four lane road, two going east, two going west. And I've found that it's safer to turn right, travel a block going east and turn left onto a side street and make a U turn. Less opportunity of being struck by a vehicle traveling in one of the four lanes. Exercising my excellent and prudent driving skills I turned my head to the left, and there were no cars visible within a block. I then turned my head to the right looking to see if there was a pedestrian. I then turned back to the left, checking to see if anyone had turned right or come through the light, and saw nothing.
I removed my foot from the break and before even applying pressure to the accelerator peddle, the front of my vehicle was struck by a PT Cruiser. The impact was quite hard. And the front of my vehicle was in contact with the PT Cruiser from the very front to the very rear, bending the front bumper in the middle of the Cruiser, then contacting every individual piece of sheet metal of the PT Cruiser, the right fender, the right door, the right rear door, the right rear fender and the rear bumper. And slightly changed the position of the right front passenger wheel, from that of the ideal vertical plane to a much less desirable horizontal plane. Allowing the right front corner of the frame to entertain us with a brilliant shower of sparks. Much like in the movies without the reason for the fireworks. A shower of sparks that in my measurements of the accident scene traveled for 133 feet.
Much to my amazement, my wife's car is equipped with 8 airbags, none of which deployed. Nor did the airbag for the driver's seat, the only one occupied in the Part Time Cruiser, which still has given me concern, it's much less expensive for the repairs, but still causes me to ponder just how safe the airbag system in the PT Cruiser is. While I was only traveling 2-5 miles per hour for less than 2 feet prior to impact, the Part Time Cruiser was traveling at approximately 40 miles per hour, and still neither one of our airbags functioned as they should. This makes me wonder just how safe they are. Are they really there, and as expensive as they are, was I charged for something that was not installed?
Don't get me wrong - this in no way has tainted in my memory the succulent taste of a T-Bone steak.
I immediately dialed 911 and reported the accident and exited my vehicle and moved at a fast pace the 133 feet to the other vehicle. This was my first indication that they were traveling far too fast. At first it appeared as thought the Part Time Cruiser's airbag had deployed, but as the 64 year old woman exited the PT, the first thing I looked for was the giant shoehorn. What I had mistaken for the airbag was simply a short, rotund woman whose grey outfit resembled what I had seen in a previous accident that I was not involved in. And what a deployed airbag would look like.
This was probably the most memorable scene from the accident that I remember. And being 230 pounds I am sure this other driver had a good 40 plus pounds on me. I was truly amazed that she could fit behind the wheel. Had it been me this would not have been my first or even my second choice of vehicles. A Hummer or a Mac truck would seem more appropriate.
There are several lessons to be learned here. I still have the candy bars, but my friend does not still have his cigarettes. I no longer have a front bumper or turn signal on the front of my Toyota. But I do have two absolutely parallel gouges that start at one side of my hood and travel to the other. My hood latch still works, my headlights are intact and work, my left turn signal and parking lights still function and my right turn signal is intact, though not functional - but if I were to plug it in and remove it from the back seat it would be ok.
I have located a new hood, new bumper, and a new frame cross member and a new parking light. All for only $170. Toyota's are meant to last. i only put 851 miles on my Toyota last year. 885 miles the year before, and 1100 the year before that. I can tell how quick my illness is killing me all my using my odometer.
So next time your friend asks you to stop by so he can save forty cents on a package of cigarettes - reach in your pocket, hand him $200, and ask him to grab you a candy bar while he is in there. Once he returns to the car, promptly roll the window down, throw the candy bars out the window, back out of your parking space, align yourself with an immoveable object, put it in drive, and see how much damage you can do to your vehicle at 5 miles an hour. They are going to total out her car. But my good old 1993 Toyota is only going to cost me $170 and will still only have 97000 miles on it.
I did not receive a citation. The police officer evidently was of like mind and felt the other vehicle was just traveling too fast. I am not saying she was at fault. But I sure wasn't.
God Bless you all,
Ken the afterlife messenger
03/01/2011
To all the pregnant women out there, that aren't any more. Congratulations! I hope it was human. Unless of course you are a dog or a cat that can read. I don't think we give these creatures enough credit. Truth be known they control us by mental acuity. After all I don't see them opening a can of food for us. I definitely don't see one scooping the shit out of our toilet and disposing of it. And I've yet to have one scratch my back or my chin. Or behind my ears. Nor have they ever opened a door for me when I wanted to go out or come in. And they certainly, though I wouldn't want to share it, have invited me into their bed. But I do have to give them credit for not inviting me to play the game of grab the mouse, bat it around and generally mall it until I'm tired of it, bite it's little neck and leave it on some poor bastards doorstep.
And thank you again for not being pregnant anymore, evoking both my sympathy for the stretching, the discomfort, but mostly for taking away that which makes us men enjoy girl watching. The tight little bum, the appropriate rack, and that skinny little belly. Now get out there, work real hard, and get that tight little waist back. And quit blaming it all on us men. We've done our part. We've given you what you wanted, first a pregnancy, fudgecicles and icecream and any other special treatment which you feel not only entitled too, but demand, pointing at your once tight little belly and saying "this is all your fault, look what you've done to me". The times I've experienced this myself I remember I was not alone. There was someone there that had (like a siren) used their tight little butt, their perfect rack, and their little waist to lure me into the baby trap. So once again, God bless you all for what you've been through. And thank God it's over. I just ask that you remember that the one you weren't alone with deserves those same congratulations and some long overdue lovin' and pity.
surmize that all in the room whitnrssed what happened at least some of the chilln then went into the other room to by-pass the security which in this case contained in the viewing area. oh well i tried i will keep trying and mabey get it right
God bless you all
ken the after life messenger,
Ken the afterlife messenger
4/4/2011 ...continuation
I approached the podium and the judge explained the options that were available. Since this was a hearing when a person enters a plea of either "guilty", "not guilty", or "no contest". There is also a forth one, "plea in abeyance" which means you pay the fine, keep your nose clean for a year, and it does not go on your record. I was then informed that in all of their benevolence, the prosecuting attorney had offered me the latter. After giving a few moments thought I answered the judges question which was "no contest - with extenuation circumstances and explanation". What this basically means is that you have just pled guilty and you have literally thrown yourself prostate on the mercy of the court.
I began my explanation by explaining to the judge that in all professions there are certain repetitious actions that we preform automatically without giving any conscious thought at all to performing them. Even he, the judge, had these acquired habits such as grasping his gavel and striking the block after each case. And that he did not have to think, it just automatically happened.
I then pointed out the coincidence of my receiving two citations on exactly the same month, the same day, the same hour, the same minute and at the same exact address exactly two years apart, and that both tickets were for speeding at exactly the same speed. I explained further that these were more than coincidence. They both happened while I was on my way to the Veterans Hospital for treatment with a 10:30 appointment. I pointed out that the tickets for speeding were issued at 10:02 on both tickets. This meant I had already been delayed by the officer, yet still had ample time to make my appointments, not only on time, but early. So there was no reason for speeding to a late appointment.
This is where my learned habit came in. I explained further to the judge that other than these two citations I had not received another citation in thirty-five years. That included twenty-two years of driving semi-trucks coast to coast, and triple trailer trucks across Utah, Nevada and California. Something that I acquired and learned which had turned into an unconscious habit was the fact that when starting up a hill it is only natural for anyone to add a little bit of fuel to compensate for climbing the hill.
I then pointed out that I was driving my wife's PT Cruiser with a turbo charger, and that it was only on rare occasion I was allowed to drive her fun toy. At which time the judge said, "I know exactly what you mean, my wife won't let me drive her PT Cruiser with a turbo charger either". I thought this had pretty well explained the reason that my speed had increased while climbing the hill. And then explained to the judge that I had nothing further in my defense. But I felt that there was still the penalty phase of the violation that needed to be addressed.
As I explained to the judge that my wife was my sole means of support. That she purchased my clothing, my candy bars, and even my Pablum. The Pablum was just an attempt a levity and it seemed to work. I then stated that any fine for this infraction or cost for traffic school would be unfairly punishing an innocent person, that being my wife. For a violation that she was in no way responsible for. I then pointed out that my doctors had given me six months to a year to live and how unfair it would be for her insurance payments to be increased for a period of three years, especially if the doctors were right, and I were to die in the very near future.
At this point the judge asked a question of me. He was very kind and polite and asked if I would mind telling the court what I was suffering from that would diagnose my dying in this period of time.
"SUICIDE, YOUR HONOR, SUICIDE". These words came flowing from my mouth before my mind had an opportunity to catch them. I quickly added, "I was a smoker, your honor, and I have pulmonary fibrosis, pulmonary hypertension, emphysema, and congestive heart failure", these constitute four terminal illnesses, each by itself. Altogether it seems to me to be a little overkill." I will say that when I decried suicide there was a muffled laughter throughout the court, including the judge. This wasn't necessarily on purpose but it did relieve a little of the tension over explaining all that was killing me.
I then told the judge that I felt I had nothing else that I could say, and that my fate was in his hands. He replied, "Mr. Aaron, I am going to dismiss your case, I wish you well in the time that you have left and I feel that you have given me another point of insight to consider when people are brought before me accused of violations. This was the first one where an acquired habit was used as a defense."
I wanted to stay to see if any one of the hundred or so people that just listened to me tried the same thing. But I've always felt that once things are going your way whether it's the judge dismissing your case, or someone changing their mind about punching your lights out, that when you're ahead you should take your good fortune and leave as quickly as possible without breaking the law.
God bless you all,
Ken the afterlife messenger
4/2/2011 consequences
We recently experienced "deja vouis". Which in itself was a consequence. There are very few places in Salt Lake City that have all of the criteria necessary to make this consequence a possibility, let alone a reality.
On occasion I find it necessary to report for treatment to the Veterans Medical Center in Salt Lake City, which is usually accessed by 5th South. Fifth South actually makes an abrupt change to Foothill Blvd. This is usually the preferable way to approach the parking lot for patients visiting the Veterans Medical Center.
It can also be accessed from 8th South and the South Gate to the Veterans Medical Center Complex. I do not remember the name of the street, but it runs through a very small park where it appears a substantial group of individuals find solace and pleasure walking hand in hand along the paths enjoying the beauty of nature this little park has to offer.
In ten years that I have been receiving fulfillment of my medical needs through the Veterans Medical Center, this being an entitlement for serving in the United States Military (U.S. Air Force) my entrance to the facility has been divided amongnst the two routes mentioned.
Having had several friends die while being treated at the VA my level of confidence in their ability to treat, cure, or prolong the life of ill veterans and realized when I was stuck ill that the reason my friends who passed on were receiving treatment at the VA was that it was their last and only option for medical care. This revelation came to me as I analyzed my own position in receiving the medical treatment availed to me through the VA as I had no other medical insurance and was not independently wealthy enough to employ a concierge doctor.
After seven years of the doctors concentrating on my blood pressure and colestoral, even after I had suffered a couple of minor strokes, you know like double vision, dizziness, and I almost thought that it was a renewal of my religious faith as I started speaking in words. Now I've always spoke in words but they usually made sense. All of a sudden they did not. It was more of a babble than any discernable language spoken on earth, both presently and in ancient times. I realized then that I was not chosen to speak in words I was just suffering a blood clot somewhere that it shouldn't have been. This however was like flipping an "on" switch and the doctors started ordering tests, some of which I had never heard of, others that I could not pronounce.
Then on January 2nd 2008 a Doctor Smith, and I today wonder if this was his real name or if the doctors they select to deliver bad news are all known as Smith or Jones. My appointment this day was with Dr Smith. that should have been a dead giveaway (remember that word "dead"). Dr. Smith spoke with me quite nonchalantly addressed me as Mr. Aaron, followed by "I'm afraid (another word you don't want to hear from your doctor) that you have pulmonary fibrosis, emphazima, and pulmonary hypertension." Now I knew what hypertension was, that was the blood pressure they had been treating me for all this time, but this was the first time that I was told that high blood pressure can effect specific areas as well as the body in general. This meant I had high blood pressure in my lungs.
Collecting my thoughts I inquired "what is the prognosis?". Figuring if I used one of their big words they might be more inclined to answer my question in more detail, which I discovered the amount of detail to the doctor in his language and to the patient in laymans language was the same. "You are going to die and have between six months and one year to get all of your affairs in order".
My first thought was that I had really missed out. I didn't know that I could be having affairs and they would be socially acceptable at least to the point that my doctor was telling me to be considerate enough to get them in order. Too late now.
Now some of this may sound familiar to those of you that have followed my blog since the inception of my website.
It seems when one thing goes wrong the whole body goes to hell in a handcart. I was sent to see a neurosurgeon for the pain in my legs, feet, and back. He told me I had three choices. One was to treat it with opiates (morphine or other real strong pain killers), the next choice was surgery which carries with it the possibility of either being paralyzed or dying (now I was already dying - a doctor told me so - then a couple of other doctors told me so) they say get a second opinion - I had about four and they were all the same. There was one other option for the pain in my legs, back, and feet. That was an injection of steroid, what they call epidural, in the spinal cord, on a periodic basis. It only had two possible side effects. One was paralyzation, the other one was death. The second one didn't bother me, by now I realized that everything they do including trimming your toe nails at podiatry carries with it no possibility of paralyzation and only a minor possibility of gangrene and death. Just for your information I overcame my fear of gangrene as I was already used to death and paralyzing and went to podiatry.
Now you are probably wondering where this is all leading. Since it has almost a thousand words already I think this is enough for today. Thank you for reading what you have and I will finish this story tomorrow. And hopefully there will be enough room on the pages to explain my run-in with the law. After all that's what this blog is all about. Of course I didn't need to tell you that. You're all very intuitive people and you could tell by the length of the introduction that there was far much more to this story. Since I am still alive and we've had no natural disasters here in Salt Lake that could only leave a run-in with the law or my good fortune with the lottery. I will end today by saying "donations of any size would be greatly appreciated". Kind of puts the lottery out of the picture, doesn't it?
*************************** to be continued *****************************
God bless you all,
I'm still Ken the afterlife messenger and have not been assigned a number yet! And we are a member of PayPal... Thank you in advance for your generosity.
2/25/2011
My microphone on my headset and my speech recognition program I thought would be a boon to me. I know it was to my wife. It made it so much easier for her to proof and correct because it could spell. It however, was a fantastic increase in accuracy over my own typing. Just as hers is a hundredfold better than mine, the voice recognition seems to spell a little better than her too. But by dictating to her it's a lot more fun. It gives us a few minutes together. It gives us time to talk about our day, her work, my sleep and the shitty weather.
It also gives me a little chance to say "hello" to the world. "Hi Gabe! How's my boy doing?" and "For you Annette, how's my girl?" Now isn't it nice to be recognized? Even a short sentence or so. It's a lot better than no one recognizing or appreciating that you are around - and thank you for the shout out. The rest of you, I know that you're out there. You too could feel important and see your name right here in my blog where the whole world would see your name and know what wonderful people you were. Instead of just some dolt that reads it and then goes on to something else. So write a line, you don't have to write a book. I'm doing that. Say hello, wish me well, or if you feel like - tell me to go to hell. You know just as long as it contains some class and don't come right out and tell me to kiss your ass.
There's my letter for today, I get dirty looks from my wife I say. Something that my microphone would never do. But I like it better when she helps me write it. Don't you?
All my love - poet in residence
God bless you all,
Ken the afterlife messenger
2/23/2011
I'm sure that some of you out there have seen evidence of some of my alter personalities. I can only ask that should you run across any that are in any way slightly different than my normal ones that you will bring them to my attention and put me hot on their trail so I can hunt them down and try them out. More than likely they were one's that I really didn't give a damn for and I had either thrown them out or I'm trying to hide from them.
Oh look there's a chicken. Whoops my mistake. It was a turkey. I can tell the difference. Because when it rains the chickens seek shelter and the turkeys open their mouths all they can making them into a funnel and looking straight up in an effort to drown themselves.
Too bad this isn't a gene that we could somehow pass onto most of our politicians. Instead of calling them lame ducks we could call them what they really are, dumb ass witless turkeys. And I know that I'm not responsible for voting any of them in because I always vote for Alfred E Newman. When it comes to retaining judges and this is something everyone should take note of, when it asks you should this judge be retained you should always vote "no" because just for the period they are in there they are shoulder deep in favors to people who do not have our best interests at heart. We would have better luck and put the justice back in the justice system if we voted out every judge and got new ones every time they come up for re-election. That even goes for the judges for the Euca-nuba dog show.
'Nuff said. Remember I don't ever talk politics
God bless you all,
Ken the afterlife messenger
2/20/2011
I have found that the fountain of youth is not a wellspring from the ground, it's not a stream of water that flows from a hole in a rock or the branch of a tree. It is being as egotistical and selfserving as is humanly possible. I certainly need alot of work. I'm sure glad that I learned the secret to longevity before I accepted these poor misguided doctors that have been trying to convince me otherwise. So if you want to live a long, prosperous life, pick out the largest ass hole with the most money that you've ever known or heard of and pattern your life after them. This is sure to insure you an extremely long and prosperous life. Look around at all of those prosperous old people that you yourself know and it should be proof enough to convince you that this is not just a theory of mine, but an absolute fact.
If on the other hand you are not worried about being called to join your God and to do his bidding and accept the abundance of poverty that you find yourself in as positive prosperity instead of negative and realize how fortunate you are the more you are starving, the colder you find yourself in the winter, and the abundance of friends that you have you'll find that using this formula that I place before you will make you the wealthiest individual that has ever existed.
I may be wrong as is generally the case. But just the thought of my philosophy of life allows me to be thankful, to wake up with life still carousing through my veins. Thank you all for being my friends. Forgive me for not wishing you wealth in terms of money. But instead wealth in friends and a lack of enemies. I forgot to mention one of the greatest advantages of being poorer than dirt is that nobody is going to steal your dirt. I guess I am wrong here, there are those that want to steal your dirt - Murray City is looking at condemning houses, apartment buildings and just empty lots (dirt, just dirt) for a road so I guess just having dirt isn't good enough, there's always somebody that wants that too!
God bless you all,
Ken the afterlife messenger
02/17/2011
God Bless you all,
Ken the afterlife messenger
02/16/2011
I do not believe in asking for forgiveness for some action, deeds, or verbal content. I have found that only those who are on the receiving end of whatever someone may feel I owe an apology are indeed never going to receive an apology that they richly deserve. It is a shame that all actions are witnessed one way or another by the purely innocent and undeserving. I would hope that they realize who they are as much as I hope those that richly deserved it realize who they are.
The reason I have made a second attempt at clearing up this point is that I know that some of my colorful language has offended some of you sweet innocent types. I was hoping to hear from more than two individuals that my apology was enough. I was sadly disappointed and can only further say in my defense that I was never raised nor did I work as a saint.
As a child I worked hard from the age of 6 to help support my family. At the age of 16 I was taught with a great deal of expertise how to kill people. I then spent two years practicing what I was taught. I have no apologizes for this. I have no apologies for certain other actions and verbal eloquence applied when it was needed. I believe I have done enough apologizing to those of you who mistakenly looked at me as a saint of some type, for I am not. I am a man who does not turn the other cheek after finding out it was a bad practice and the other cheek usually suffered more indignity than the first one. So for the last time I have enjoyed and hope to enjoy blogging to the group or a new group of people that perhaps won't put me on the sainthood list. I can only finish with -
Here's to those who accept my apology and wish me well and for those of you that are so damn much better than me I think you're reading the wrong blog, and certainly hope that your home is covered by good glass replacement insurance. Because I know there are alot of you out there that evidently never have learned how to throw a rock. Or would it be stone? If you haven't, try casting your first one, you'll see it's alot of fun.
God bless you all,
Ken the afterlife messenger
And then there was one...
As I said in a blog a few weeks ago I am working on changing my website. Having been a large part of my website any suggestions, desires, or constructive criticism or even destructive criticism I ask you and anyone that is familiar with my website for thoughts or much needed insights to some changes or additions or deletions that would be beneficial to a new vista while the old one was well constructed and directed. Variety is not only the spice of life but it has a great deal to do with interesting when I look at my present website it doesn't seem to make me jump for joy. Nor does it inspire me to contemplate the distance between the golden gate bridge and the distance to the surface of the water below. So please help, I need ideas that don't fall into either of the last two categories.
Thanks - God bless you all and my wonderful wife without whom none of this would be possible. And when I get back to blogging I will tell you a story of a hero who literally and physically saved my life.
Ken the afterlife messenger
