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Sunday, December 27, 2009

That Christmas Thing!




The celebration of Christmas in the Christian world is a mandatory thing, or so it seems. It usually incorporates all of the family, whether near or far. If we are too far removed for actual visitations, then Christmas cards are the next best thing. Being a man I usually mail my cards on December 24th, but this year I had them all written and mailed by the middle of November. That was the one positive thing about being at home recuperating with a leg elevated. (I don’t recommend it!)

But Christmas is also the time of year when the suicide rate rises dramatically. Apparently people without families really feel the pressure of being lonesome. Ending it becomes an option worth considering.

I have lived through seventy Christmases and my experience has ranged from having been deeply religious and family driven to a lesser observation as the children have grown. There was a time when a freshly cut tree was essential for decoration, and presents were piled underneath for the daybreak discovery of what Santa Claus had brought me, and then much later for what I, acting as Santa had brought the children.

Now that has all changed with the passing into adulthood of the children who are all away and we are at liberty to greet Christmas with the minimum of exertion. Christmas has lost its magic, and what a shame. No special meal at home, (we went to a restaurant) no midnight church service, nothing particularly special about December 25th at all, except it was a sunny and beautiful day in between bad weather before and after.

However, I deny that we are turning into Mr. And Mrs Scrooge. We fully encourage young families to enjoy the occasion for the reason that it is intended. I particularly like the Spanish tradition of observing the 25th as a Holy Day, with gift giving left to the night of The Three Kings. In other countries gift giving has over taken the religious aspect, so much so that it makes something of a mockery of the whole event.

Looking back over the years there is actually one year that I can point to as my all-time favourite. That was the year when I was a child and my father played the role of Santa by going on the roof and stamping around and making animal noises. The next morning there was evidence that was left to be cleaned up. Us kids became super believers that year. We have never held it against our parents for being the first people in our lives to lie to us.

Season's Greetings everyone!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Season's Greetings!






Dear Readers,



My Christmas hope for you, your families and your friends is that you have peace, human warmth and Joy at this time of the year. To all of mankind, Christian, Muslim, Jewish and all other Faiths, I wish you all Happy Holidays!



Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Women on the Corporate Ladder


Caution! Women Climbing the Corporate Ladder

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr said that “None of us are free until we are all free!” Consequently it is with some joy that I see so many women moving ahead in the workplace. I take no amusement from those who think that certain things in life are solely women’s work, mainly to do with domestic matters. Men are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves and their children. There are no real reasons why women cannot break free from the old stereotype of doing everything in the kitchen. Men make excellent chefs.

I have had a growing uneasiness however, of whether a woman is completely free to soar with the eagles in her ambitions. We tell them that it is their right to be all that they can, and not to let anyone hold them back, but I think that perhaps we are not being all that realistic or fair. Being a woman is certainly not the same thing as being a man. A woman has to cope with a side of her that has its own demands. She has a biological clock that she must pay attention to, and when the children come along the natural instinct is to care for them.

This is not unfair. It cannot be said to be an unfair disadvantage because of what being a mother is. But, it does cause impediments in a commercial career that a man is free from.

As a man I have taken notice of the rise and rise of women in the workplace and in politics, and I have been pleased. Women certainly do at least as good a job as men, and I think most fair-minded people appreciate that it is a far better society when we are all participating.

In those societies where women are making the greatest advances we see problems associated within the period of transition. Some are very serious and involve violence. Others simply involve loneliness for the woman because she is unable to find a suitable man to keep pace with her.

As an example, a woman judge is a special case because judges are in a unique place. For her, a very progressive thinking man will be needed, preferably another judge. Failing that she might well be a very lonely person indeed.

Female doctors are another interesting study, although they are a part of a larger group and are more likely to have contact with other professionals of a like level. However, the pressures of the profession make it difficult to maintain a normal lifestyle and to include having children. It can be done but some part of their lives has to suffer.

The principal problems for a woman who is climbing the ladder to commercial success, other than those of the competition itself, tend to arise within her own personal life. Her male partner and her family can be the wind beneath her wings, or the anchor that holds her firmly on the ground. Consequently, we are seeing more young women staying free of personal relationships, and leaving it to the very last minute to have a baby at about age 36. Even then she may choose to have a sperm donation.

So, if we are agreed that active involvement of women in all parts of our society is vitally important, but that a woman faces hurdles that men are free from, the least that society as a whole can do is to offer empathy and support rather than to place even more barriers in their paths.

It is anyone’s guess how many such women were caught up in the financial crisis. Women who devoted their lives to moving ahead in the corporate world at the expense of a family, only to be tossed out into the sea of unemployed persons to sink or swim. That is so sad it hardly bears thinking about.

There are many successful women who remain at their posts, and who will survive this crisis. They work hard and play by the rules and are entitled to our respect and admiration. If they have a man who cannot accept that fundamental truth, then she has to make the hard decisions to cut him loose to find someone with whom he will be more comfortable.

The real acid test for a man is whether his wife earns as much money, or more than he does, or otherwise enjoys as much success. This is where the male ego gets in the way. It is something that generally men cannot control. We can struggle with it, but it really is more trouble to ourselves than to other people. Again, if this is a hurdle for her, she may have to make another decision that will be a test of her strength.

I try to have empathy for today’s professional woman, and I wish her all the best. Being a pioneer never was a comfortable thing. It all comes down to whether the rewards are worth the risks and hassles of reaching the destination.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Extra! Extra ! Read All About It!


Time for Privacy

The headline read: “Tiger Woods in Admission of Transgression Against Family!” In other words he was purportedly admitting to extra marital affairs.

America is a country where 16 million people have lost their jobs and cannot find more work. The economy is broken, banks have gone bankrupt, and continue to do so. America is fighting two wars that it desperately wants to disengage from, but cannot. The once mighty US Dollar is the poor man of the world. It is on its knees and is being stomped on by other currencies. The future holds possibly another war, with Iran and/or North Korea. America is steadily losing its position as global superpower and world leader.

America has more problems than it can possibly handle, and its people have more personal concerns for their survival today then they can digest. In this context the personal domestic problems of one small family over marital infidelity is simply not news. However, the US media will give more air time and column inches to the private problems of Tiger Woods and his family over the coming days and weeks and months than can be justified.

They will say that the people have a right to know. No! We the people don’t have any such right to know about things of this nature! It is simply no business of the people to know anything about the state of this family’s affairs. The media personalities who write and report on the problems of Tiger Woods, and other such celebrities don’t think the people need to know about their own business, nor should they. This is all about selling newspapers and ratings and pandering to our idle curiosity. Now we are hearing the incredibly stupid suggestion that Tiger Woods must go on The Oprah Show, and Larry King Live to confess all and beg for forgiveness from the nation. That is just about the sickest thing I have ever heard.

I know that other people have done such things. It was sick and stupid then, and it would be in this case.

Given the sheer number of women who would like to entertain this young man in their beds, it would be news if he were not having an affair. So, whether he is alleged to have acted inappropriately with one, or one hundred, my advice to the media is to leave these folks alone to work out their problems. It is an entirely private matter and it is the business of no-one else.

If the media really have to discuss something along these lines it can focus on the root causes that destroys so many marriages. The system is sick, and unfortunately no amount of discussion will make it well, however; when young women come forward claiming that “he promised me the world, and that he would leave his family, etc, etc” we need to boo them off the stage. In all too many cases the guy was a target of a designing woman, and that makes it very hard to stay focused.

Hands up those of you ladies who would like to entertain the president in your bedroom? See what I mean? He is a hard working-man who is keenly trying to do a good job, and you would desperately like to bring him down.

We men are so weak in the hands of women. We work hard and earn money, power and prestige, and we think that our package should contain more than we are permitted. There are some very firm borders that we must recognise, and to cross them is to be responsible for our own downfall. Perhaps there is also a line beyond which it doesn’t make sense to continue to drive ourselves so hard. When is enough, enough?

I wish Tiger Woods and his family all the best. Should his wife decide to leave him, my question is: For whom? I hope they do come to an agreement and he comes to his senses. After I close this I don’t want to hear another word about their private lives.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Rape most Foul !


Rape! Very Serious Business

A recent court case in my native Bermuda concerned a charge of rape that was thoroughly foul. A 22 year-old woman reported that about 8:45 pm one evening she stepped outside her apartment to get her mobile telephone from her car when she was suddenly set upon by two men from behind. They dragged her into her apartment where over 15 minutes they took turns violently raping her.

Her recall was excellent and she gave police a 19- page statement. Police were shocked that there were at large two men who could do such a thing, as though they were wild dogs. They considered this a most heinous crime, and seven officers were dedicated to the case, with support from The Serious Crimes Unit. They were concerned to try and arrest the two perpetrators before they struck again.

Dozens of young men were brought in and had to prove their whereabouts at the time of the crime. This is quite naturally a difficult thing to do. It is not a usual thing for people to keep a minute- by- minute diary of their everyday movements, with proof of where they were. There is also the possibility of unduly prying into one’s private affairs. A person’s activities may not have been illegal, but they may not have been morally correct either, and to have them exposed in this way might at the least be embarrassing.

The police worked strenuously for a full week and were convinced that they had found the two men. A police line-up was arranged and the woman was brought in to see if she could identify her attackers. And that’s when it all came unravelled. There had not been a rape. She had made the entire 19-page drama up, and in the process she has set back the criminal justice system by years.

Her circumstances were that she had a relationship with a young man, but her ex-boyfriend re-entered the picture and she had had rough sex with him. In the process he inflicted bruises and scars that she was unable to explain to her current lover, so she made up the story to cover her tracks.

She “knowingly and deliberately made a false report to police” that resulted in a waste of police man hours that diverted their attention from other serious business. The Court thought that she should pay for that, so they charged her $6,000 to reimburse the police, and they fined her $1,000 for her stupidity. She could also have been sent to prison for six months, which she may still have to do if the fines are not paid.

I’m living outside the country so perhaps the woman’s protection groups have spoken up and condemned her actions, but I cannot find any evidence of this. If they have not done so, then shame on them.

This story is important from a number of fronts, not the least being that when a woman cries rape, it should be only under the most serious and genuine of circumstances. To do otherwise only provides the defence in future cases reasonable doubt. Another reason for this is that I recall another such incident where a wife falsely cried rape, and that took up a lot of time and attention and put the community on edge. At that time I was one of the young men who was hassled to prove what I was doing at the time of the alleged incident, and I came very close to being put behind bars for something I had not done.


Interestingly, I gave a suggestion of what had probably really happened that turned out to be exactly the case. In that event the wife had an affair with a local lad during the Summer nights while her husband worked until 1am. Nearing the end of the tourist season the husband came home early and panicked the two lovers. He fled the house and she screamed rape. Meanwhile, I had attended a movie on my own and was on my way home. Her lover would have crossed my path, either just before me or directly after I had passed the area, thereby putting me squarely in the frame.

Had it not been for the fact that I had worked at that same hotel and knew the system, and therefore was able to surmise what had been happening the outcome might have been very different.

I do not support rape or rapists. In my mind they deserve the full prosecution of the law. Those who falsely claim they have been raped commit another form of the charge by belittling the system. They should at a minimum go to prison.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Heroes


The World needs more Heroes

I listened to a thought-provoking presentation from a colleague at Toastmasters International on the subject of “Heroes” that in essence called for more heroes to help the world get through these awful times. You apparently don’t have to have x-ray vision, nor do you need to fly in any other manner than conventional, but the world needs heroes. He ended with the question: “Would you like to be a hero?”

This topic has stayed with me and caused me much thought. For instance, who or what is a hero? To my mind such a person would turn bad into good, and would epitomize fairness. However, a hero is a very subjective subject. To my horror I saw that the Libyan Lockerbie bomber was received on his arrival home as a hero. The 9/11 hijackers are revered as heroes by some, and so are those people who go out into crowds to blow themselves up, taking as many complete strangers with them as they can.

How can this be? It’s all in the eye of the beholder. It’s all in the faith of the believer.
CNN have been conducting their annual “Hero of the Year Award”. To this end they requested entries from around the world and received more than nine thousand responses. That must have been a very mixed bag indeed that had to be short-listed. They ultimately worked with a list of the top ten, and on America’s Thanksgiving Day the winner was chosen.

We have been seeing the profiles of some of the top ten, and the question that occurs to me is, how was it possible to discard any of the names. The one thing that stands out is that all of the contestants are doing wholesome and good work to aid humanity. The problem in selecting a winner is in the depth of their efforts and the impact that their work is having. However, not one of those nominated wanted the nomination for themselves.

No one can say that he is a hero and actually be authentic. It takes someone else to come to that conclusion. So, I add to the question “Would you like to be a hero?” a follow-on with the question “Do you think that you may be a hero to someone?” I would like to think that my wife might think of me as her hero for something I have done. I hope that my children think of me as their hero for something I may have done to make them proud. In saying that I am also saying that I hope I have lived my life to deserve such respect, and I imagine they may think in similar terms of their own lives.

I turned to the CNN Heroes programme midway through it in time to hear the stories of Brad Blauser, a man who has donated more than 700 wheelchairs to Iraqi children; and of Andrea Ivory, a breast cancer survivor with a smile as bright as the sun who is determined to save the lives of women by having knocked on more than 18,000 doors to get women to have a mammogram.

Then the winner, who was chosen by worldwide voting was announced as Efren Peñaflorida, a young 28-year old man from the Philipines. Efren’s work is with children from the slums who he offers an alternative to gang membership. He started when he was 16 by having survived a confrontation with a gang lord because he didn’t want to join the gang. Now, working with very little money but an army of 10,000 volunteers who have been rescued, they are teaching slum kids basic reading and writing skills from a pushcart classroom.

He doesn’t consider himself a hero but he admits he’s completely dedicated. His work is certainly the stuff of heroism. All we have to do is read the stories of gratitude from those whom his group have rescued and the picture becomes very clear indeed. Congratulations Efren! Keep up the good work!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, November 15, 2009

The Enemy Within


Two Important Events in America

On Thursday 5th November, 2009, US Army Maj Nidal Malik Hasan suddenly went on a shooting spree, killing 13 of his own soldiers, and wounding another 30.

On Tuesday, 10th November, 2009, John Allen Mohammed was put to death through lethal injection for having committed ten killings by sniper fire, and having injured another three people.

These are two important events in America because they have some critical points in common. Both men evidently have Moslem connections; both were killers of several people who were random targets; and both used the gun friendly environment of the United States to horrifying result.

There has been much shock and horror that has generated a great deal of discussion, but so far I have not heard anyone, except one lone man express the fact that he now “gets the message.” When asked whether he is in favour of gun control, he replied “I am now!”

President Obama has declared that America is not at war with Islam, and never will be. However, perhaps the question should be whether Islam is at war with America and the West.

First, let us consider Army Major Nidal Malik Hasan. He was born in Arlington, Virginia, 39 years ago of parents who are Palestinian-Americans. He evidently loved America and was a good and loyal citizen. He joined the army and worked his way up the ladder to become a Major. In that capacity he was a psychiatrist who counselled army personnel and soldiers.

However, his very being was a conflict to other soldiers, because they were going off to war theatres to fight and kill, or be killed by Moslems, albeit by the names of Al Qaeda or The Taliban, but nonetheless they were Moslems. Consequently, Maj. Hasan found himself denigrated, discriminated against, and made very uncomfortable. He wanted out of the army. Instead, he was ordered to go overseas to Afghanistan where he would continue his services as counsellor to soldiers who were troubled as a result of their fighting activities.

On the 5th of November he seems to have calmly turned on his perceived tormentors and in a few horrifying seconds he killed 13 and seriously injured 30, some of whom may not survive. Fortunately he did survive when he was in turn shot. Hopefully he will be able to help the army with some urgent thinking that it must do.

Apparently the army was not sensitive to his personal problems and proceeded roughshod to disregard his pleas to be let out. Now the question has to be considered whether there should be any serving Moslem soldiers in the U.S. military. America is in an undeclared war against Moslem extremists while at the same time giving sanctuary and security to its own Moslem citizens. Perhaps it is too much of a conflict to place people of the Islamist faith in. A good hard look is required at this question, and it has to be done quickly.




John Allen Mohammed:

Born John Allen Williams on December 31, 1960, in New Orleans, Louisiana, he later changed his surname to Mohammed in 1987 when he joined the Nation of Islam. He was an excellent soldier who attained the distinction of Expert Rifleman. He served in the first Gulf War as a fighting soldier, and in that capacity he almost certainly killed fellow Moslems.

He was discharged honourably from the army in 1994 having the rank of Sergeant. He then started getting into trouble with the law over petty crimes. He was twice divorced, and his ex-second wife was granted a restraining order against him. He moved to Antigua where he met Lee Boyd Malvo, a young Jamaican, who was to later become his partner in the killings. It was suggested that one goal of his was to ultimately kill his second ex-wife in order to regain custody of his children.

Their rampage killed ten people for whom they are directly responsible, as well as injuring three persons. However, another ten victims are indirectly linked to them. It should be noted that their modus operandi was simply that of anyone who was caught in their cross-hairs was shot. Be it man, woman, black, white, Christian, Jew or Moslem, or child, in their opinion they were engaged in a Jihad, (a struggle in the way of God, or Holy War) and their targets were all presumed to be Americans.

To me, these two examples are very disturbing on their own, but we have to add to that the news of today, November 12th, 2009 from London that there Moslems are on the march declaring their intention to take-over Britain, and ultimately the world, and to turn Buckingham Palace into a Mosque. When asked what would become of the Queen they answered that she could convert and become a Moslem, or leave the country.

Both The United States and Britain have substantial communities of Moslems living among the general population. Both countries have experienced death and destruction at the hands of young extremists. The former Bush Administration asked the question: would you prefer that we fought the aggressors on our streets, or theirs? The answer was always, “On theirs!”
It would appear to me that a movement is under way, whereby the aggressor is determined that America and Britain will fight that war on home soil. It would be an act of supreme optimism not to expect more, much, much more violence in the very near future.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Life in a Wheelchair


Life in a Wheelchair-It's another World

When you see a person in a wheelchair does anything register in your mind at all? Probably not, because it is a common enough sight. If anything, you might think that if not for the Grace of God, that could be you.

I came to think of people in wheelchairs from the angle of noticing when able-bodied people trampled upon the rights of the handicapped. Drivers here in Spain take some extraordinary liberties among themselves, and some of the things that they do would simply end in somebody being shot to death in certain parts of the United States. For instance, there, you would not double-park your car resulting in a blockage for someone else. If you did it without thinking and walked away, you would have second thoughts about going back to your car. Here, we do it all the time and we do not expect the other person to be angry when we have inconvenienced them to such a degree.

I have noticed how common it is for people to park in spaces reserved for the handicapped. They even park across pedestrian crossings, so the handicapped have no chance. Things came to a head on the day that I noticed a couple with a “Wales” sticker drive into the parking area of a Mercadona Supermarket and park at an angle across two parking spaces. That was bad enough, but add to that the fact that both spaces were reserved for the handicapped. That must surely take the prize for “Coldest Bastard in the Universe.”

So, I wrote a blog, the gist of which was that we should be careful to protect the rights of the handicapped before we need those same rights ourselves. I published that blog on the 11th October. On the 14th October I found myself in a wheelchair with a broken leg. I can only assume that I am to highlight the experience of life from a wheelchair, since I opened the subject. This will be the follow-through. (Ain’t life strange?)

There are a series of one-word descriptions that very accurately sum up life lived in this manner, and all but one are bad words. Such as: Boring, horrible, frustrating, demanding, challenging, depressing, sucks, and suicidal. The one word that could be considered acceptable is “utilitarian.” It does allow for you to have some sort of life on the move, but that is very small comfort.

I am not the perfect subject to speak of life in this way because my time in a wheelchair is limited to my full recovery until I can once again walk when my leg has healed. In the meantime I can get up and change to crutches. In other words, I cheat. I am a fraud. To hear from the real wheelchair bound people simply log on to “Wheelchair blogs” and you will enter a whole new world.

Frankly, I opened these pages and I became emotionally charged. It gave me pause to realize that in parallel with the “normal” world there is a society of disabled people who have to function, sometimes without the cooperation of the able-bodied to cope with everyday life.

Of course, you will find angry blogs, because they have a lot to be angry about. So many cities completely forget the handicapped in their designs. You will also find some incredibly positive thoughts, and a lot of very ordinary viewpoints. For instance, there are handicapped beauty pageants, and why not? There are also campaigns against what is called “Apartheid by Design, or lack of design.” And of course, there are the Para-Olympics.

There is also humour. In Bermuda I had a meeting with the Handicapped Association to discuss raising funds for them. I arrived at their workshop to realise I was the only person without a seat. It seems I had failed to bring my seat with me, a fact that caused great peels of laughter.

A friend of mine suggested that it is rare to see people in wheelchairs in Spain. Is that their fault, or the fault of everybody else? If the city or town makes it impossible to navigate a wheelchair, why would we expect to see someone out on their own trying to shop?

Just imagine trying to get from one end of a street to the other, or from one side of the street to the other without someone having deliberately paved the way. Sometimes, the thing that such a person needs is just within a stone’s throw and no big deal if you are able to walk. But, for the disabled it might just as well be another world away.

I honestly don’t know how a person is supposed to adjust to life in a wheelchair. I’m certain that one thing is needed to do this, and that thing is emotional strength. Handicapped people must be some of the strongest people in the world.

I want to ask you to bear in mind the next time you encounter a handicapped person on their own that that person may well have once been as able-bodied as you are. Consequently, you could find yourself in the same position in the twinkling of an eye. So, instead of passing them as though they were invisible, or just a normal person, at least say Hello! Ask whether there is anything you can do for them, and take the time to be of assistance.

If this idea spreads far and wide you might one day be grateful for it, and happy that you helped to promote it.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Flying Naked




“Getting There is Half the Fun?”

That was the catch phrase of a travel company many years ago. They have given that up now because travelling is no fun. Instead travelling is all about “hurry up and wait.” I am trying to remember when it all changed. What I can remember are the days when we actually dressed up to look our very best to board an airplane.

In those days there was absolute respect for the crew and we were all on our very best behaviour. Then we noticed that students travelling during spring break started wearing jeans and tee-shirts, and behaviour suffered along with that. The standard had dropped. A new age had dawned.

Then came hijackings, mainly to Cuba from the U.S. Following that period aircraft were taken with a full load of passengers and used for negotiations and blackmail. I recall the first time I saw an airplane blown up, thankfully without people on board. I found it hard to believe such deliberate destruction of such a valuable object was possible.

The eleventh of September, 2001 changed everything forever. The hijacking of four planes with passengers and coldly flown into buildings told the world that there are people who will go to any length to make a point. The traveller’s world was impacted in ways that we are only beginning to understand. The advice of The White House was that we should continue on with our lives on a normal basis. Not to do so would be to admit that the terrorists had won.

The problem with that is that life is no longer normal, and the terrorists have won because we are even terrorizing ourselves. I passed into the security zone at Heathrow recently and was given the most thorough examination in the open space as other travellers looked on. I was ordered to remove my hat, my belt, my glasses, my shoes and a light jacket. A man placed his hands over every centimetre of my body, especially around my scrotum.

When he grasped my penis and my testicles and gave a squeeze I told him that I had a licence to carry that equipment. He never even broke a smile. When he finished I thanked him and asked how much did I owe him? He was puzzled, but I explained that never before in my life had I had such a good massage.

During all that it would have been particularly inappropriate to complain about the violation of my privacy. Had I reacted with righteous indignation that would have simply given them steam to go even further than they did.Such invasive searching is supposed to be in my interest, so I am supposed to simply walk away with a whimper.

With all that in mind we might have foreseen that the day would not be far off when we would all be electronically stripped of our dignity through the invasion of our privacy. It has now been announced that technology in the form of a scanner is undergoing testing at Manchester Airport’s Terminal 2, as well, it has been tested at Heathrow Airport. The traveller would have to agree to be scanned by stepping out of line to stand before the scanner backdrop. X-ray beams will outline the person for the officer who is at a remote location who will be presented with a picture that will show whether you are carrying anything of a suspicious nature anywhere on or within your body. In fact you are virtually naked. We are assured that none of these images can be stored or downloaded, and only one officer sees them.

We are further assured that the images are not pornographic or erotic. What a shame. However, they do show you in your birthday suit, so it’s a good thing that for the time being we at least do have a choice.

My parting comment to the security officer that I referred to above, was that in order to help him in his work I thought that perhaps we should all fly naked. He said that they would still have to find the contraband. That sounded awfully painful to me, so I think I had better quit while I’m ahead.

Copyright © Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Emergency !


Emergency ! Somebody, please help me!

Pay a visit to any hospital emergency department and you will meet at least one person from every sector of the community. You might be from the upmarket district or just one of the ordinary folks, but in emergency we all have one thing in common: Pain!

I was the victim of a crash that resulted in a broken leg. I was duly shipped by ambulance to the emergency department of Hospital Arnau de Villanova, in Valencia City. Firstly, at the very outset if we are going to talk about emergency care we have to acknowledge the staff. Whether the person who deals with you is of good disposition, or one who got out of bed on the wrong side, we must still give them their due. A typical working day for these people is nothing even remotely close to normal.

So, let’s take our hats off and give a sincere round of appreciation to the staffs, because someone has to do it. How they cope is way beyond my comprehension.

I was wheeled into the lobby at 11:30am, and the ambulance driver went to the reception to check me in. This was the first time that I had been taken by ambulance, and I must say that I was a little bit disappointed. The driver never used the siren even once. It also seems that the Spanish ambulance service is a bit different from what I am accustomed. Generally I expect there to be on board para-medics to give assistance enroute, but here they aregenerally speaking, a transportation service.

Once the driver had checked me in through reception he left. After a short-ish wait my name was called to go to the Sala de Clasficaión, which I took to be Triage. There a quick assessment of my condition was made and I was classified according to the urgency of my situation.

Then I was wheeled back into the hall to wait some more. Again, my name was called to go to the Sala de Ambulatorios where I gave much more detailed information, such as the answer to the question: “Are you allergic to any medicines?” This is a tricky one because you can only say whether you have encountered anything bad. You don’t know what they are going to give you.

Then back out into the hall where in fairly short order my name was called again, this time to go to x-ray. My left foot was photographed and I was sent back out into the hall. The time was one pm. My next port of call would be the doctor in the trauma room. They finally called me in at 5:20pm. This is the problem about big city emergencies. The pressure of so many people needing to be seen is such that waiting times are extraordinarily long. Bear in mind that I am sitting there with a broken leg that has not received any first-aid attention at all. A cold compress to reduce the swelling would have been good.

What does one do when you have five and a half hours to wait? Fortunately for me I had a newspaper with me and I read the bits that I never go anywhere near. Mainly, in a situation like that, a writer will observe and then start to make notes because this was a very rich pageant passing before me indeed.

The waiting area was full when I arrived and there never was an unoccupied seat. As soon as a seat was vacated the next person filled it. Even the bank of wheelchairs had able-bodied people sitting in them which still left people standing.

The Spanish worker loves his coffee break, but unless there’s a well-oiled system of relief there is no way you could get away from your desk, even for a bathroom break.

Two women who stood nearby were having a conversation by signing each other. That left me wondering whether the signs materially change with the language. Then, the mobile phone of one of the ladies rang and she answered it. I assumed that she was someone who could hear and speak normally, and that she was there to help her friend, but to my surprise she flipped the cover and then she started signing the person who appeared on the screen. I thought that was really useful, a modified mobile for the deaf and speech impaired.

If you were accompanying someone you got a green sticky card to paste onto your clothing. I know that it was not intended to resemble the Jewish star that the Jews wore during the dark times of the nazis, but, still I was reminded.

A man came rushing into the area, together with three others. Evidently he was a motor mechanic as his hands were covered in oil. He was holding one hand that had apparently been crushed in an accident. He was put through the same routine that I was, and I thought that his wait was far too long for someone in so much pain. He still hadn’t been seen by the time I went in. I thought he should have been called in before me.

The ambulances continued to roll up and discharge their precious cargoes. With many of their patients they jumped the line and went straight into classification and then directly into the treatment rooms. These people were in serious life-threatening situations and time was of the essence.

There were a couple of very odd situations like the three nurses who, walking together passed up and down the corridor eight times, always in the same configuration. There didn’t appear to be any purpose to their taking a walk. On the eighth time they left the hospital as they had changed into their street clothes.

There was a woman with a green tag that she kept changing from one breast to the other. She never stood still for the whole five hours. There were also two guards standing at the doors to the treatment rooms. I’m sure there is a good reason for that, but they never seemed to actually do anything.

On a more serious side there was all the drama and angst of people who accompanied their loved ones in and hovered over them worryingly, and the most heart-breaking of all were those who came rushing in having been informed someone close had been brought in. They were almost always hysterical. I have had that experience myself.

Finally, when I was called in to see the doctor she informed me that my leg was broken and that I would have to be sent to another hospital to be operated on. I made my choice of hospital and arrived by ambulance at 6pm, only to have to start the process all over again.

You have to laugh, or cry!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Life can be Funny/ Strange/ Peculiar




Life can be Funny/ Strange/ Peculiar and a Whole lot More!

On Sunday 11th October I wrote in my other blog, "From the Driver's Seat.blogspot.com" an article about “Selfish Motorists.” It was brought on by the fact that I have witnessed countless acts of absolute self-centeredness here in Spain that would get one killed in certain other parts of the world. The last straw was the couple with a “Wales” sticker on their car who drove into a Mercadona car park and deliberately took up two spaces, both reserved for the handicapped.

I though of having a dialogue with them, but anybody so cold as to do such a thing is not about to learn anything from me. I reasoned that they have to experience for themselves what it is like to be a handicapped person, even on a temporary basis, and to have their rights trampled upon by the selfish and uncaring. I ended that rant with an appeal to respect the rights of the handicapped before ourselves needing those rights.

Well, life can be funny and strange and peculiar. On Wednesday, October the 14th, while riding my motorcycle in my little village I came face to face with a car that was moving against the lawful direction of traffic and I went down in a slow-motion crash and broke my leg.

I don’t ever recall having parked in a handicapped space, or otherwise abused the rights of the handicapped. In fact, on occasion I have actively worked to benefit those not fully able, so the question arises why me? The answer can only be that I have opened the subject, and now I must carry through and share with readers what it is like being disabled. Hopefully, some good will come from my story.

The crash occurred at 10:45am, and neither vehicle was damaged. I took myself to the nearest clinic and they despatched me to hospital by ambulance. Any emergency department of a big city hospital must be the most interesting place on earth. I was taken to the Hospital Arnau de Villanova in Valencia. Here we see humanity at its most vulnerable. Pain and discomfit is the great leveller. In the outside world you may be a mover and shaker, but in here we all speak the same language, and that is “Help Me Please!”

The crush of people needing to be seen right away is daunting, and I have collected notes from my observations that I will make into a separate blog. For now it is sufficient to say that I was checked in at reception, then passed along through triage, and another office that took more in-depth information from me, and then to x-ray, and after five hours waiting, I finally saw the doctor in the trauma unit.

“I have to tell you that you have broken your leg and an operation will be required to reset it.” Not good news, but also not unexpected. I requested that I be transferred to the hospital that my insurance uses, “el hospital nou de octubre.” I was delivered to their emergency department where the process started all over again, and eventually by 11pm I was admitted and in my room.

The operation took place the next day and was successfully completed in spite of the break being in the most problematic place in my leg. I now am carrying two long screws that periodically give me electrical shocks. Airport security will now be an interesting experience. The extraordinary thing to bear in mind is that it was one year ago, October 16th that I was at this hospital having a bunion removed, and now I was having more surgery on the same foot.

I must not leave the hospital without saying how absolutely professional everyone is. They are super busy but are able to maintain their good nature, and even inject a smile every so often, which is just as good as any other medicine.

Now I am at home with a heavy cast on my left leg, and I have to cope. My wife is wonderful, but she will return to work during the week, so I will have to learn to deal with everyday tasks. Already I am finding that there are very little things that annoy me. I have converted my office chair with wheels into a wheel chair. Some of the floor tiles are uneven, something I don’t even realise normally, but they stop my chair and make moving about difficult.

Whether I’m moving about on my crutches or in my chair, I’m suddenly being left behind as the whole world passes me by. From my chair I’m constantly looking up, and I do notice that I have become invisible to most of the world that just doesn’t have the time for Mr. Go-Slow.

From my last experience on crutches, I remember having stumbled and I nearly fell in the street. That was met by outright laughter from two women who must have seen it as something from Monty Python. I don’t expect to be going too far for a while. In fact, the authorities might like to think about hobbling prisoners in this way with a heavy cast-like apparatus on a leg. They could stay at home without making too much mischief.

Stay tuned, as there will be more to report in the future. Meanwhile, please respect the rights of the disabled. You never know when you might need those rights yourself.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, October 11, 2009

The President and the Nobel Prize




“President Barrack Obama awarded The Nobel Peace Prize.”

Topic “A” this week is the above headline that gave the world pause. President Obama himself said that he was surprised and humbled. The world was surprised. The question of the week is “Why Obama?”

President Obama has only been in office ten months, how could he earn such a coveted acknowledgement? He is prosecuting two American led wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. These were not wars that he imposed, but the war in Iraq is being wound down in so far as American troop involvement is concerned, however America will always have a presence there to avoid the country erupting into all-out civil war. Next-door in Afghanistan, that war with the Taliban must be won. There are 42 nations participating against the enemy, so there can be no simple matter of just packing up and going home. The Taliban and Al Quaida must be defeated as their ideologies are as insidious as the Nazis.

President Obama is being encouraged to flood the country with American troops in an effort to overrun the enemy, but the enemy are already setting up shop in Somalia. These conflicts will carry on long after the President has left office.

Meanwhile, the situation between the Israelis and the Palestinians continues. Animosity and tit-for-tat killings are as much a part of the very fabric of their lives, so there is no possibility of peace in that region anytime soon. The president may indeed have the best of intentions but it simply is not going to happen.

While I don’t know exactly what Alfred Nobel intended as the criteria for being considered a recipient of the Noble Peace Prize, I can safely assume that bringing about, or promoting peace is in the mix. Given that, what has the president actually done to promote peace?

Under George W. Bush America had become a despised nation in the view of the world. Under his administration he talked about an axis of evil, meaning Iraq, Iran, and North Korea. However, a great many people saw the axis as being Bush himself, his vice-president Cheney, and Donald Rumsfeld, Secretary of Defence. President Obama recognised this and he has set about putting a human face on the United States again. He has reached out to Europe, to South America, including Cuba, to Russia, and especially he has reached out to the Islamic nation. I therefore believe that this award is as much about encouragement as anything else.

Clearly President Obama is not about winning awards. The surprise of which he speaks will be genuine, and he will no doubt continue his efforts at promoting the peace. However, he will not be a pushover for any hostile nation. Anyone who wishes to attack the United States on his watch will be in for a very nasty response, Peace Prize or not. As America’s first Afro-American president he does have a lot to prove. Simply getting elected was his first test. His second test was to take broken America and to fix it.



We all said that his job was impossible; America had been left in such a bad condition. Most people would have given up in despair, but not Barack Obama. His credo of “Yes We Can!” has never been tested to such a degree, but he has turned the ship of state away from the rocks and it is headed toward calmer waters, at least for now.

President Obama’s strength lies in the fact that he is an honest broker. He is a man of great integrity and he is true to his word Above all else he can be trusted. In America politics is everything. Rarely can you get a completely straight answer; there are only Democratic or Republican answers. However, President Obama could be the only sitting president in the history of the United States to gain a second term, unopposed if he is given enough cooperation to implement his policies that benefit both Republicans and Democrats alike.

Time will tell!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Animal Husbandry






Summer and Winter
I have a shaggy dog whose name is Winter. I have written about Winter before and his girlfriend whom I call Summer. Sometimes we also call her Skinny, as she is such a small dog.

This is really about her as she is a very curious study. She is not our dog, but is from somewhere in the neighbourhood. She is a very good companion for Winter, who is an old man. Watching them together is a wonderful example of love in the animal kingdom. Make no mistake about it, animals care for one another and they do have delicate feelings.

The thing about Summer that is so interesting is how distrusting she is of people. She has been hanging around our property for well over a year but she cannot be touched. She keeps her distance, even if that distance is very short at times. She wants to be loved and petted, but she just cannot bring herself to allow us to get that close.

Evidently she has been badly abused by humans. I don’t even like to think about how harsh that treatment has been to make her so cautious. It’s a shame really as she does have a sweet disposition. Winter was recently very ill, and it was she who fussed over him and drew my attention to the fact that he needed care. I could see that for myself, but she was clearly concerned about him. When I put him in the car she almost climbed in with him.

My idea of caring for animals is that I should treat them with care, but not necessarily going over the top. I ensure that they are fed in clean dishes and watered and given a warm and dry place to sleep. They should have the opportunity for exercise, and when they need medical attention I ensure that they get it. I don’t treat animals as though they were my children, nor do I spend excessive amounts of time in grooming them.

The dogs do not come into the house, as to allow that would result in a ton of dog’s hair accumulating everywhere, and it is not necessary. Our cat does have access, because cats go wherever they want. For a time I would take Winter for walks, but in reality he seems to prefer simply running through the countryside that is covered by orange groves. That suits me just fine, although it was a source of good exercise for me.

I had another dog, a cross breed whom I called Chester. He was a fantastic guard, but had to be carefully monitored as he was considered a dangerous breed. He would annoy me because he was forever escaping from the property and going off on his own. He once took Winter with him and they were gone for almost two months. However, even in those moments when I was so angry with him I was restrained from being cruel to him.

Cruelty to animals is not something I approve of. For that reason I cannot condone the Spanish Bullfight, as the animal is subjected to the most awful form of violence. Considering that it is being slaughtered for food, what it goes through as part of the show is just not necessary.



Winter is suffering with a heart congestion condition and we are keeping him alive. The summer heat would have killed him had it not been for a vigorous and expensive program, but we have been successful.

This was not the first time that we spent such an effort to keep him going. His previous owners moved into a city apartment and were faced with either our taking him, or putting him to death. Then, to make matters more complicated he was diagnosed with leishmania. Again, much work had to be done to defeat that. Sometimes I wonder why I go to such lengths to keep him going. He isn’t even my dog, and I’m not all that fond of him. When I first encountered him I though he was the most awful dog in the world. It was our son who agreed to take Winter, but now our son is in Australia.

I do what I must for Winter because it is part of my beliefs that when we accept an animal we become responsible for its welfare. To treat the animal with anything less than due regard is against my principles.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Recognizing your own limitations

To be Confident


When I was a young man I was really something! I was handsome, I had a six-pack chest, and I had hair! I was popular and the girls loved me. My response to any and all challenges, when asked if I could handle it, was always “Yes, I can!”

These are just some of the things that I have worked at, in, or had experience with: I was an outside linesman for the power company. I climbed up poles in the height of hurricanes to restore power. I worked in every department of hotels; drove a taxi; was a calypso singer; played in a steel band; I have flown a glider; worked as a motor mechanic; hosted my own radio show; have been a news presenter for television; produced and directed my own video show for television; sold life insurance and investments; sold real estate; wrote newspaper columns; was a consultant to the police; qualified as an accountant; managed reinsurance companies. And I write blogs. I was even a tea lady and chambermaid when our hotel was on strike.

I was so-o-o good! But then came the passage of time and tide. I got fat and lazy. I said to all the young people, you’all go ahead and change the world. I’m comfortable right here.

Then, came a complete change of pace. Now, I as a man with a beard am a promoter of women’s cosmetics, and it’s working. I can now add another description to the above list. A friend introduced me to Toastmasters International. The club meets twice monthly in a social setting and works on honing their skills as public speakers. It’s fun!

Social and fun are two words that go well with me. The public speaking training thing I’ve been doing ever since I met Dale Carnegie about what seems like a 100 years ago, so I didn’t need any of that. Or, so I thought.

The time came for me to deliver my ice-breaker speech, and I found myself all over the place. Words wouldn’t come out in the sequence in which I wanted, or unwanted words jumped out into the room. I felt I was a real mess. Where was the erudite at-ease presenter of yesterday?

Something had changed when I wasn’t looking. I was out of practise for one thing. The other thing that is more deadly is that the years have gone by and they have taken their toll. I push back as hard as I can, and in reality I don’t feel every one of my seventy years. You can always know when a person is seventy. That is because we’ll tell you. That’s how you’ll know. We’re always saying “I’m seventy, you know!” We’re so amazed, we have to share with you.

Although there is the very distinct possibility that I will live to celebrate my one- hundredth birthday, there are some irrefutable facts to consider. The eyesight isn’t as good. It’s not too bad, but time is making changes. The quality of my hearing is probably diminishing a bit, helped no doubt by the effects of the mascletas in Valencia. The memory is definitely the worst case. It’s very good, but it’s short

I therefore have some limitations these days where none existed in my earlier years. I can no longer act the role of the smooth talking, overly confident master of ceremonies who hosted New Year celebrations. I need a script, and I need to follow it. If I am going to ad-lib, then I’d better rehearse my ad-lib comments. I have to rehearse and rehearse before getting up to speak. Period!

I know I have to do these things, and if I wanted confirmation my evaluator at my last speech gave it to me when she said that she was impressed by how I had pulled together my presentation. She commented that my choice of words were correct and carefully chosen. I chalked up one “ah” instead of my usual eight or more.

I have had an epiphany. I have come to know who I am and what some of my limitations are. I somehow believe that this will be an on-going experience, which is just as well as I wouldn’t want to come face to face with them all at once.

When delivering a speech, having to follow a script is not necessarily a bad thing. I am absolutely devoted to my "cousin" when he is speaking. Barack relies on tele-prompters but he makes his speeches seem so natural. He must be very careful with his every word. That is not a bad strategy because once the word is out it cannot be brought back and tucked safely away

So, with my limitations firmly in mind I plan to strut confidently into the future. My life has been really great to this point, and I have lived it as I have seen fit. There is one thought that brings a smile to my face at this time, and it is this: The best is yet to come. You ain’t seen nothing yet!

If you are a resident of Valencia, or even simply a visitor and would like to know more about Toastmasters International, please e-mail me at eugene.spain@gmail.com





Copyright (c) 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Double Standards

Men Behaving like Men



My friend, Joanna Cruickshank, writing in her weekly column “An English Girl in Spain” for The Costa Blanca News, raised the question in a recent edition of why should there be such double standards between how men can behave and be considered perfectly normal, and how such behaviour by a woman would be looked down upon by society. It’s just not fair, she suggests. I agree with her completely, and I wondered how society can entertain such thinking in these modern times.

Firstly, let’s consider my own stance on this topic: am I one of the guilty parties who has ever practised the double standard?

The answer, if I am absolutely truthful, is yes! Now, having admitted that I feel absolutely naked. Perhaps I had better explain: I have not actually been aware of how my thought patterns have worked. It’s only because the article was suddenly in my face that I examined my feelings and have come to this admission.

The fundamental reason for the Double Standard is because of the place we hold women in our society. Every mother is a woman, and that alone places her on a pedestal, whether she wants to be there or not. Also, there are other major differences in the way that women see themselves, and especially in the way that men see women. I can only comment from a man’s point of view, and historically this is the way I see things:

I have to admit that I bought a Playboy Magazine from the very first edition, and that I have helped to make the magazine a success down through the years. I can also say the same of Penthouse Magazine. I should add that over time, in my mind, the flesh, that was is in the forefront, traded places with the articles, although I don’t expect any of the ladies to believe me. However, it’s just amazing what a person can grow weary of.

I mention this because I was thinking recently that it’s a shame that our freedoms gave vent to this type of publication. For men of my generation we grew up holding girls and women in a very high and mysterious place. Our sexual couplings always took place with the lights out and eyes firmly shut. That mindset continues in the Islamic and Arab worlds where women are required to keep covered up by at least covering her hair or covering up completely.

I think Western men definitely lost something at the same time as the Playmate of the Month showed us what she had for breakfast. We lost the exciting sense of mystique and some respect. However, throughout the period of transparency and even women’s march to obtain greater freedoms, women have not entirely lost their special place in our minds. There are some things that a woman should never do. Women should never be hooligans, or yobs. They should not be gangsters or break-in thieves, nor should they be contract killers or boxers. There is someting even uncomfortable about women in the armed forces.

Perhaps it’s a big surprise, from the standpoint of image, but women should not even smoke. Smoking does nothing to advance the social standing of a woman, in spite of the fact that many will say they are social smokers. No-one cares whether a man smokes or not. He does not have an image to uphold. At worst he is simply silly to do that to his health.

The children’s rhyme says it all. “Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice; boys are made from salt and snails and puppy dogs tails.”

Society does practise a double standard, and by society we mean both men and women. However, is this double standard all bad, or even good? We will never have a consensus on this question as we all have our own attitudes and turf to protect, so I won’t even try to find common ground. Except to say that when we frown upon certain acts taken by women that we might accept on the part of men, we are probably doing so out of our natural respect and desire to elevate the woman. This need not be a bad thing.

Now, having said that we have to reconcile it with the modern attitude to equality. Clearly, under that doctrine a woman can do whatever she wishes, within the law, but that does not mean she will always be praised or respected. It only means that we the public will be confused.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Situation Comedies


SitComs

Recently I had an interesting conversation with a friend regarding Sitcoms, mainly of the American variety. We looked back over many favourites with pleasure and considered some of the implications behind some of them, whether those implications were real and intended or not. There are two that are top of our list that we believe have permanent social effects, and they are “All in the Family”, the family being Archie Bunker and his wife Edith. The other is “The Cosby Show”. First, “All in the Family.”

What this show did was take a redneck, bigoted, blue-collar worker and expose his manner of thinking into the public domain. The show ran from 1971 through to 1979. Carroll O’Connor played the role of Archie, which was a very brave thing for him to do, because it branded him in the mind of the viewing public as a bigot. In reality he was not, and went out of his way in his own time to prove it. I think that it must have been in the mind of the producers to make a social statement with this show, one that was both subtle as well as bold.

Most people did not realise what was happening at the time, but the writing was so well done and the set-up of the scenes so crafty that the end result was that for people who thought like Archie Bunker, they saw their own thoughts on screen and the reaction was laughter. They were not respected but thought of as being silly. Michael, Archie’s son- in-law provided the counterfoil to Archie’s nonsensical opinions, and gradually the bigots of America got an education while not even realising it.

To add to the mix the show would insert a black character, a young man with whom Archie carried on a perfectly pleasant and natural relationship. Although his dialog placed the lad in a position whereby Archie got to offer advice, he nonetheless was able to associate with the lad in a comfortable manner.

I have personally known such men as Archie, one of whom said to me that he was pleased that “the boy, Kofi Annon had become United Nations Secretary General.” I met that statement with my mouth wide open and no sound came out.

This is a show that is still in syndication, and it is still working its magic. It is making the bigots laugh at themselves, and I credit this show for largely making it possible for the election of Barack Obama as president of the United States of America by softening up otherwise hardcore and rabid opinions by a lot of very stupid people, who also vote.

Secondly, working right along with “All in the Family” was “The Cosby Show” featuring Bill Cosby. This show ran from 1984 until 1992, and showed a black American family living its life on a daily basis, and how funny their life could be, as well as being exactly like any white American family. They were not a family with children who were gangsters or drug dealers, and in reality the great majority of black families are more like the Cosbys´. This was an important window into the lives of black Americans for white America. There was no limit to the amount of material that looked into how white America lived, but this show, following up on “All in the family” was part of the awakening and growing of America.



“Seinfeld”, on the other hand was a show about nothing at all. At least that was what its creator said, but the truth was that it was a show about everything and it had no social message whatsoever. It was just plain funny and brilliant and everybody loved it. The more risqué topics were the funniest and got talked about the next day at the office. The curious thing about “Seinfeld is that it was all about three characters, Seinfeld, Elaine, and George. The fourth regular character, Kramer, who really had no substantive role was the funniest of all because of his nervous on-screen persona. He never actually did anything.

The most challenging show of all was “Fraiser”, a highbrow comedy that ended up appealing to the very rich upper class and the general public as well. This must have been one amazing challenge to make a success. The show always ran along two levels: the level that Frasier and his brother, Niles, together with Daphne, the English caregiver to the father figure, Martin maintained, which was upper class; and that of all the other characters who were understood by the public at large.

This required some very careful and crafty writing and interpretation over the period 1993 to 2004. The fact is that the comedy from this show was some of the best and unflawed. We watched in delighted fascination without ever realising what was happening. It’s only now that I am taking the time to think about it and through my discussions with my friend that I realise what a masterpiece that was.

There were so many other really great sitcoms over the years, starting in my memory with “I love Lucy” and “The Mary Tyler Moore Show”. There was “Cheers”, “The Simpsons” and “Friends”, (a show that I was never able to come to love, but the entire world around me did) that all provided a wonderful soundtrack to our lives. I wish I could comment on all of them, but suffice it to say that life would not be life without the ability to laugh.

As Bill Cosby once said, sitcoms are just life things that we forgot to laugh about the first time they happened.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Colonies


Colonies -Other People's Countries


Once Upon a Time the countries of Europe thought it a good idea to grab great chunks of land to add to their own, and they did this by going forth as Explorers and Adventurers to invade other people’s lands, where they killed as many natives as was necessary and dominated the rest until they could say they had added another Colony. This they did with pride and joy as these activities were considered to be honourable and just.

Largely speaking they were all engaged in such exploits. Britain, France, Germany, Belgium, Holland, Italy, Portugal, Spain, and the Scandinavian Countries all did their share of raping and pillaging. Some even attacked other European countries. One of the most successful was Britain. It achieved so much, especially for such a small island, that at one time they proudly declared that the sun never sets on The British Empire. In a moment of supreme grandeur they added the word Great to their name, thereby being known as Great Britain.

There was one thing in particular about all this: it was wrong!

How was it ever thought morally justified that to invade someone else’s country and kill the natives and rape the women, and the country of its resources was the right thing to do? It never was right, of course, but a country’s might made it right. Unless yours was a country that came under attack and you were able to successfully ward off the attackers, then you became a spoil of war, and fair was fair.

The manner in which people behaved in those days was utterly reprehensible. The thing that has prompted me to think of this subject is what we call terrorism in today’s world. I shall treat that topic more fully in a future article. For now, I think back on the dark days of the occupation by European countries throughout the world in other people’s homes. The foreign country always fell back on their belief that they were civilising the natives, whether they wanted it or not. But then, one day, a very soft spoken diminutive man said to the occupying force in his country that they were not appreciated, not wanted, and he simply wished that they would pack up and bloody well go home.

His name was Ghandi, and the British Raj could not believe its ears, but in time that is exactly what was done, and the whole tide of Colonialism turned around. Being a colonial power in occupation became the embarrassment that it truly was and one country after another gave its former colony it’s independence.

There are some countries where things became irreversible, such as The United States and Australia. The British acted as badly in both countries concerning the natives, and then they even turned against themselves in the United States so that the British-Americans fought a battle against the British and won, declaring Independence Day on July 4th 1776. So, the poor native Americans and Aboriginies are stuck with their unwanted residents.

Most invading countries have given up their colonies except for a few small countries that actually prefer to continue the arrangement. In the case of Great Britain that called itself The Mother Country, it now finds that it has people living within its own borders who represent just about every country it ever occupied. There are very few pink bits left on the map. The last of its great colonies to revert to its original owners was Hong Kong. The largest and most significant colony left is Bermuda, a small island in the Atlantic with a static population of about 60,000 people. Bermuda is particularly interesting in that when Britain discovered it there were no people living there, and there were no claims existing on the territory.

A fundamental error was made from the start in that Britain deemed it to be a colony, when in fact it was, and is a truly owned territory as though it were located in the Thames. If the good Bermudian people ever get around to asking for their independence Britain will be faced with actually giving away a valuable piece of its property that it didn’t have to kill anyone for in the first place.

The other significant place is Gibraltar. That is quite another story and there is no easy solution to that one.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, August 30, 2009

The Perfect way to Relax




Ibiza & Formentara

Two columns ago I explained that my wife was about to take me on a magical mystery tour, which was a vacation that I had no prior information about at all. I didn’t know that we were planning on going some place; I didn’t know where we were going; whether it would be one place or more; how we were going to travel; or what we would do once we arrived at our destination. She was keen that it should be a complete surprise, but if I insisted that she give me the details, then she would. I didn’t insist, because I like nice surprises.

These are some of the games that partners play that give spice to life, and I highly recommend them.

A friend who knew the story let slip that we would be travelling by airplane, so that was the first clue, plus I was told to pack for Summer time. We drove to the airport and went through security and took a seat in the waiting lounge. At that point I could have been going almost anywhere. I was relaxed and chose something to read. There were a few announcements regarding boarding for planes flying to various destinations, but we didn’t move.

Finally the announcer said that the plane flying to Ibiza was boarding, and after the line dwindled down to a few remaining passengers I was informed that we should join the line. Wonderful! We have been living here in Valencia, Spain for ten years and we have talked about one day going over to the islands, and now that day had arrived. This was a very delightful surprise indeed.

My next surprise came when Lorna said that I might see a familiar face at the airport. I could not even begin to guess, so I gave up and waited to see who would meet us. Suddenly, the lady was in front of us, and to say that I was surprised doesn’t even begin to adequately cover the situation. I really don’t want to print too much about her, but I will say that life had handed she and her family a devastating disappointment and she was crippled by the weight of just trying to understand what had happened.

Now, here she was, still under immense pressure but she was smiling and dealing with life on a daily basis, and she was surviving. Having come face to face with that realization my trip had spiked to its highest point.

She then drove us to our apartment that had been loaned to us by a very good person, and the apartment could not have been better situated. It was a small self-catering unit that was located on the seventh (top) floor with views out over the harbour. It had a small television and a radio, neither of which were plugged in, and we decided to leave them as they were. During the first day I decided to turn off my mobile phone, and I avoided going to an Internet café, so for five glorious days we had no TV, radio, Internet, or phone. We did buy local newspapers not for news of the world, but just to gain some idea of life on the islands.

We did some sightseeing on Ibiza, as well on the sister island of Formentera. Both islands reminded me so much of my own island home of Bermuda. They cater to tourists, as does Bermuda, and there were so many things that are similar. However, in one major way Bermuda is very different in that the island closely controls development, and consequently Bermuda does not allow the high density crowding along the waterfront that these two islands permit. Such closeness devalues the product and does not add anything of value.

We spent one day with our lady friend and her family at her vacation home, and that was super special. Other than that we either did sightseeing or we spent our days on the beach. I should explain that I really do not like the beach and its sand, nor do I need a suntan, but I went along and took a very good book written by John Grisham called “The Appeal” One day we went to the Reggae Beach and I spent time in the Reggae Bar drinking a concoction called a “Jamaican me Crazy” that was served up by this white rasta man. He was super cool.

If you didn’t already know that I am not European, just by mentioning the fact that I am still astounded how free women feel about going topless on the beach would concrete the fact. No European man would even mention it, as it is so commonplace, and has been for a very long time. It’s only us guys from the other side of the Atlantic, plus the Brits, of course who find the freedom so bewildering. I think that a grandmother who can feel so liberated to unwrap her breasts in public is a wonderful thing, and long may it continue. It certainly made me feel more comfortable about exposing my own not so perfect frame.

We men are allowed to look, and we have to look as there are no beautiful trees to gaze upon instead, however; we are not allowed to stare. It would be most ungentlemanly to stare. Anyway, there is absolutely nothing sexual about so many uncovered boobs. I just wonder whether there is pain in burnt nipples.

Best of all, I spent hours doing absolutely nothing at all. Whether on the beach or at the apartment, I would sit on the bench in the corner on the terrace and look out over the activities taking place in the harbour with a totally vacant mind. No worries or concerns about anything at all. I didn’t even realize what was happening to me and to us. We let the everyday cares of the world drift away; we didn’t even have to do any driving so we let our guard down to a minimum.

I think this must be what every individual needs and must surely be good for one’s mental health. Trying to cope with the stresses and strains of living in our modern society does take its toll. A week of what we have completed must have added ten years to each of our lives.

As a final thrill we cruised back to the mainland and landed in Valencia’s ports just as the Formula One races got under way. We then had to make our way out of the port area via a complicated route, sometimes driving alongside the races. Now that’s the way to have a vacation with pizzazz!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Sex Sells Everything




Sex Sells Everything

Did the lady in the picture sell you your car? If she did, did you buy a car that you really and truly want, or was it one that you are kind of happy with. It’s a man thing. We are the subjects to whom things are sold when they are not strictly what we want because a beautiful salesperson helped us with our decision.

Beautiful women sell us cars and motorcycles, and sports stuff, and even hardware. We men thought for many years that women were the weaker sex, but no, it’s us guys. Show us just a little fringe of Chantilly Lace and our mind departs us leaving us on our own. Sorry guys, it’s just the way we’re wired.

We see certain guys driving along in some makes of cars and you have to wonder, “How did you make that decision mate?” Something else had to be at work the day he made that purchase, other than just being plain and simply drunk. I don’t think they allow us to actually buy a car if we’re full drunk, so what was it that made some crazy decision possible.

There is something called Post Buyer’s Blues, which most people experience at one time, or another. That occurs when we take the thing home and then decide we don’t like it after all. Perhaps we bought it for $100 and walked next door where the identical item is on sale for $80. Post Buyer’s Blues! But when you are being drawn along to buy something that you really don’t want, but she is so persuasive, but you want to object and put your foot down and just say no, but the words don’t come out as you wish. She takes your money and gives you your change and says, “Have a Nice Day!”

You take three steps outside the shop and start swearing at yourself, and then you go looking for a shop with an ugly male salesman so that you can take home exactly what you want. Ain’t life a bitch?

A beautiful scantily clad woman can sell us men just about anything, but there is one area where women work wonders and they aren’t even talking to us men. That is when they are selling to other women. Naturally as shop assistants they excel, and if I owned a fashion store I would certainly employ intelligent and nice looking women. However, if I owned a Real Estate business my preference would be to hire women because now we’re talking big tickets items, and no matter what you guys have always believed about buying a house, you are not the decision maker. Your woman is. It’s the woman who chooses the house.

So you and your lady go along to view the house but the play is between the two ladies. They talk about the kitchen and the curtains and the this and that and you are along for company. Ask any man who has been there and he will agree with this statement.

So, it’s a truism that Sex Sells, and it sells absolutely everything. And life is grand!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Lazy Hazy Days of August


Dreaming of a Beach Somewhere



This past week I have been suffering from Writer’s Block in that I just haven’t been able to decide on a topic to write about. Try as I have I just haven’t been able to think of something that appeals to me. There are normally all manner of things that jump out at me, but all I have wanted to do is sleep. The great Spanish siesta has reached out and enveloped me in its arms. It has just been so very hot. Whenever I found a cool spot I simply put down and stayed there.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that the subject is that I’m simply being bone-lazy. After all, it’s August, for many people that means vacation month. The mere fact that I’m retired hasn’t stopped my internal system from shutting down in August, as it has always done.

Last night I got animated and thought that I would have a good session on my laptop, but instead I made a right turn on the way and sat and watched a movie instead. What a luxury to be able to do that.

I watched a film named “Jagged Edge” that is a 1985 murder mystery starring Glenn Close and Jeff Bridges. Both of these actors are very good at their craft, but Glenn Close, who is a woman in spite of the name, is a particular favourite of mine. She has completed many and varied film credits, (not all have been brilliant) but in my mind her most enduring work came in a 1987 work entitled “Fatal Attraction” with Michael Douglas. The plot for that film was that a married man’s one nightstand came back to haunt him over and over again.

I remember that it was a much talked about film, and I think it may have given pause to men who thought about a one night-stand of their own. The thought that you might have gone to bed with a woman who would stalk you and do nasty things to your family somehow takes the sheen off the experience.

One of the things she did to Michael Douglas was to pour acid over his car that he loved, and she took his daughter’s favourite rabbit and boiled it and brought it back to them.

Anyway, “Jagged Edge” is a movie made in the old way: a darn good story told in a way that simply has the audience sitting on the edge of our seats. It starts with a murder that has an element of pure and simple Satanism, and the story takes many twists and turns. Most of the action takes place in the courtroom, and even after allowing for some improbabilities, it’s still a very good film.

I reflected on it after it was over, and it occurred to me that there was not one incident of special effects in the entire film. The other thing that I reflected on was the industry of filmmaking itself. It’s a wonderful way to be told a story, and if the craftsmanship is superb we may want to let ourselves go and enter the story and the place as spectators, and for the duration of the storytelling we leave our own lives behind. There is also the added benefit with DVD that we can replay the escape as often as we like.

So, yes, I’m being lazy and I’m enjoying it. I will very shortly leave our home with my wife and we shall go some place for a change of scenery. I don’t know how we are travelling, or where we are going. I don’t know if it will be one place or more. The only things that I do know is how long we will be away from home, and that I should pack for summer. I’ll report when we get back.

I do love pleasant surprises!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael