Protesting Protest

 Protests were once effective in getting their message across. They were people who on a DIY set up, made their issues known. The public saw them and had something to think about. They went home and talked about the small essential protests. But, now that the "professionals", hired protestor advisors, have entered the scene with their planners paid to organize things, protesting no longer belongs to those who simply want to air a personal problem. The new protestees are now controlled and owned by their hired bosses. These leeches suck the life out of what was once a unique and true cause. These "professionals"  tell their employer protesters just how far to go: ways of avoiding arrest, effective signage, speaker models, methods and legal aspects to consider and even the sale of tee shirts. They have their own teams of front line folk who teach how to confront police and security. It's my contention that when you have hundreds or thousands of yelling, obnoxious humans behaving in ways that are ugly, it's not a protest, it's rebellion. Of course, there are some individuals who have tried other ways to show how upset they are over their unique complaint, but when they amass large amounts of money from others, hire "professionals", enlist hundreds or more others, not truly involved or they come close to violent means in presenting their problem, it's gone beyond protest. It is an ugly non-democratic monster. It seems that the law needs to be sharpened up to prevent the onslaught of gatherings that destroy property and create a disturbance for law-abiding citizens. No longer are these sorts of tantrums, protests, but are potential criminals who hide behind the word "protest". There needs to be an examination by our politicians who are the ultimate law makers, of finding ways to allow true protests without them turning into riot and rebellion. Living near a metropolis, I hear about so-called protestors who weekly, if not more, stop the flow of traffic by people who need to get to their appointments, schooling and work. Many times, the so-called protestors are looky-loos, not even those involved with the actual matters at hand. They are lovers of crowds and being part of them. They hope their pictures will be in the media. Their cell photos will go on social media with their faces foremost. They find satisfaction in that they are with but not part of a group that loves them for turning up. They find it satisfying. They have no interest whatsoever in the group's issue. Their motivation is strictly personal. When I hear of yet another "protest", I groan.  Protesting doesn't make sense any more. It's just a nuisance.  

Nursing Lunch

 It appears that health care has lunch breaks. Calling a hospital ward to hear important life affecting news regarding a family member's procedure, I was told to call back later because the nurse was having lunch. While I get it that all workers must have lunch, I wondered why someone else couldn't have answered the simple question - is that patient ready to receive a supportive family visit. I thanked and hung up my call to the desk person, one of at least eight who sit in front of computers at the nursing station, ones that must have records for every patient on the ward. Being a carless senior, to call a taxi and go somewhere without knowing if it is fruitless or not is rather important. Taxi fares are considerable going back and forth and while cheaper in some ways than owning a car, one doesn't travel in a cab lightly in forethought. There is seldom a time today, when dealing with the medical profession that doesn't involve a waiting line. Today I saw that Canada is considering hiring nurses from other countries and that's fine but why are we not producing nurses in our own country? Long time ago, young ladies who wanted to become nurses, were welcomed and they could always find a training facility in which to do so. Many of them were on-site ones in hospitals and when the persons in nursing training enlisted into the programs that were three years in length, they went to work on wards almost immediately. When going into a hospital it was easy to identify a beginning nurse or one during the various stages of their training and experience by their uniforms. Don't try it today.  Few students were denied a placement in the student programs. Later, universities took over training and although it still involved practicums off the campus, it didn't quite match nursing venues that were in hospitals or adjacent as so far as finances are concerned. It felt as though these nursing students who were an integral part of a real hospital, were more in tune with its  living, breathing edifices rather than the posh ivy covered educational buildings on a university campus. The nurse students of long ago, heard the ambulances coming and going, saw patients and their families crossing the grounds and entrances, the patients themselves as they went down hallways and conversed or were brought into wards. They could see the staffs of various departments on their way in and out of the hospital. Their atmosphere was not "somewhere else" but inside the "living  body" of the place and the reason for their training itself. When a young person entered training, they received a stipend and found room and board, but also had work times on wards from the start. When they worked as a student nurse, they saw their peers, patients and public close at hand and I believe it made them better nurses in the end. The realities were right under their noses and they could be fully cognisant of what lay ahead in the responsibilities as a professional. It must also have eased the professional nursing staff to have eager learners on the scene too, just as they had been. I am sure also, that the government cost burden was far less that it is today with student university fees that take a whole lifetime to pay back. Maybe it's time to turn the clock back in some ways, and look at what in-hospital training could save us all time and money and be highly beneficial to our health care system as well. 

Eggs

Eggs have been a source of nutrition since humans walked the earth. In an egg fertilized, lies all the needs for sustenance up to the time that it is hatched into whatever creature it is meant to be. Until an egg hatches, it's dependent upon certain conditions other than its origins, to become a being of some sort. The bearer of an egg is female and the female's diet and other environmental needs are present to ensure that the newly born is in good health and will grow up to reproduce its kind in turn.  Birds, reptiles, insects, fish, and all sorts of other living things have unique and individual needs after they are on their own but inside the egg, they are safe and find all they need before entering the outside world. Chicken eggs are something that humans love. Eggs, both white and brown and even some coloured ones that are an experiment, are added to recipes or eaten much as is, so that they never do reach becoming what their biological goal actually is. Brown and white eggs are both the same and contain all the same elements other than their colour, therefore, either choice is equal. Some bird eggs and those of other creatures are spotted or marked somehow, perhaps tinted so that they have camouflage to protect them, but basically most eggs, those of chickens are equally consumable. You can do so many things with hen eggs as a consuming human. Eggs end up on plates to be eaten just how they look coming out of the shell. Some are scrambled, others are beaten or whipped after separating and they have all kinds of other things added to their richness to make them taste differently or come out as part of something bigger than they are. What would we do without eggs? For one thing, we wouldn't be alive because we, too, begin as eggs. It's part of our development and heritage. Our human eggs have lots of similarities to other creatures' eggs and it is surprising how much we have in common with a wide variety of other animals. There are various ideas about the superiority of the eggs we humans come from or develop as, but being animals ourselves in a way we sometimes don't like to discuss, there must be some kind of brother or sisterhood involved between we eggs.  We haven't really solved the meaning of all that as yet, but scientists who are the thinkers of our society, spend long hours on such matters. An egg is an egg is an egg however, and whether they are brown or white is immaterial. Some eaters prefer white eggs and others insist upon the brown ones, saying that one colour is better than the other. I do know that the yolks or what really matters in an egg is said to be better the more colour it has. Those sorts of people will eat only brown eggs and they are quite particular about where those egg-bearing hens ate and how their lives paid out. But sadly, it actually doesn't affect the egg much. Eggs come out and that's it. But it does take two creatures to make an egg so that it will mature and becoame an adult to produce another one of itself. It does take a male and a female to effect this event, however and without argument, while some creatures that lay eggs can make miraculous changes from one sex to another in order to meet that requirement and carry on what all creatures are meant to do, occasionally accidents occur. Nature doesn't get involved much in social opinions about eggs. Eggs go on and on and with hope, always will.

Out of Matches

 Like many of my erstwhile companions in the elder game, I sunk, on a lonely day, to enlisting in an online meet-someone site. First, I needed to and did, find out where I could locate a site that would allow me merely to chat with the opposite sex. While lady to lady conversation is fun, it's a whole different matter ladies talking to men. From what I've noticed, there seemed to be a lot of old guys around my age hanging out in malls and coffee shops and looking pretty forlorn. Perhaps, I thought, they would enjoy some stimulating chat, even if only online.  On the recommended site, I entered my profile. The last step was a photo or two of my face. The directions told me they had to be clear. Reluctantly, I found a few pictures of the real me and added some cell phone bathroom shots while trying to hide the background. If the Kardashians can do it, why not I. The result was shattering, but I felt that a man my age would understand. That conclusion, you must be laughing at, as I am now. Most folks who get into these "dating" sites are far from realisitic but when I looked at the photos of me with my deteriorating face, I surmised that I, also, would not ask this woman out for a date. But hey, I wasn't asking for a date. My request was conversation only, between two similar aged beings who wanted to have friendly, intelligent talks with someone else in their solitary lives. Again, laughter may ensue. Dreamers fill these sites apparently, and I am not among the dreamer set. While I once indulged in hairdressers, nail ladies and fashion boutiques, I tired of all that and opted for my long un-blond hair, DIY nails au naturel and  living mainly in jeans, sneakers and sweaters. There comes a time. When I finished my list of profile entries into this site and reluctantly added a few honest, "clear" photos as requested, I sat back to wait for some like man to begin talking with me about world politics, the arts and other important issues. The site I joined told me the first day, that no one had responded. Huh? But, said they, it's okay, they'll "boost" me. To become boosted, I needed to pay. I found out that this site is not free, as I read in the web entry, but that if someone answered me on this site, I had to pay to find out who. It was a monthly subscription. Suddenly, I woke up and realized that  of course one must pay money. Nothing comes free, is the message. My next step, the day after was to find out how to unjoin this dream of meeting someone who simpy wanted a nice conversation to pass the time of day. It was a learning experience. Evidently, I am the only soul in the world who wants merely to have a little visit with a male person my age. I did find a way out of the site, after perusing the US price list and finding it obnoxiously steep for mere chat. Now, I go on line and scan for opinions here and there on current events, one sided of course, and content myself with parlaying alone on my computer screen. I don't need matches. 

Starving Arts & Science

We are so busy ranting and raving about social mending today that we are forgetting about the arts. And Sciences. I read today about the fact that genetic experiments show how easily a living thing can go extinct by merely losing a gene. Who would know.  It made me think about a friend's daughter many years ago, who worked very hard to achieve her Masters Degree by studying a tiny, seemingly insignificant fish. The little fish was one that didn't grow any bigger than your smallest finger but its place in the biosphere as a food source, was essential to what we put on our plates as filet delicacies from the sea. This young woman went diving alone in icy cold sea waters to do her studies in order to complete her work and get that precious, to her, Master degree. Out she went early in the morning in spring or fall, dressed in Scuba gear and fierce determination. When she submitted her studies, a flaw was found and all of her previous work was of no use. She didn't give up. She re-evaluated her former theories and began all over again. It took not only classes but frigid early morning dives before the pleasure boats thundered by, their skippers intent upon salmon to put in jars for south of the border sandwiches. The girl did finally finish her studies and became an assistant professor. Funds did not allow her to become the PHD she should have afforded, but she is content continuing to encourage other young people to study how to better our planet as Marine Biologists. I wish I could say this about the countless numbers of young people who persue the arts: dance, music, graphics, sculpture and electronics and many others. Few young scientists or artists make much of a living at their choice of life work that they love. They are the seldom recognized as important people who keep us entertained and healthy and our planet continuing to exist with all of its resources being gradually depleted in greed. Behind every Academy Award, there is more than the pretty faces and costumes of the  "stars" and their billions. No one waits at the end of a film to read who did the essential production of the piece and even if they did, the names flash by so quickly, it's impossible. Without these artists, Batman couldn't fly or Star Wars would have a blue or green plastic curtain at the back of the scenes. We can't,as viewers, take the time to stop and scroll each and every worker who makes our enjoyment of good health or entertainment or the preservation of Earth, our only home, but we ought to think about it from time to time. What you see in the "news" is not all there is. The faces you idolize didn't get there alone. You may know someone as I do, who works by herself in a modest condo at a decent but not gross salary, to produce, using hours of her day in front of a screen or two, to make your entertainment what it is. It's not the  slap on the face by rich people, that really matters in such as Academy Awards, but the millions of people behind the scenes, earning a tiny fraction of what goes on the screen or off the drug store shelf,  that gives you the excitement, the laughter, the fix, that enhances and preserves your life.