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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Professor and the Police II

Four Men on a Mission


A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the Harvard professor and the Cambridge, Mass. police. There were two aspects to an incident that involved them both that was newsworthy. One was the way that the professor over-reacted when all that the police were doing was trying to protect his property. The background to that was the professor, a black senior member of Harvard’s Business School was observed by a (black) member of the public trying to force entry into his own house at night. She thought she was seeing a break-in in progress, which is what it was, but when you have to break into your own home, then that’s legal.

She called the police who came running, although the professor was unaware that a call had been made. When they arrived and found he had entered the house, in the eyes of the police he was a suspect. To make matters worse, the cop who confronted him was white. When the cop ordered him (in his own house) to “Hands Up!” the professor became outraged and replied “I’ll put my hands up yer Mamma!” or something like that.

The professor is a man of my generation who has lived through all the bad shit that America could throw at him, but has nonetheless risen to the exalted position of tenured professor at one of the country’s most prestigious schools. He knows all about Freedom Marches, and may have been right alongside Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He certainly knows about police harassment of black men. It is still happening as we speak But America has a black president and it’s about time this shit stops once and for all.

The second aspect is, to very nicely complicate matters, that black president is a personal friend of the professor, so I imagine it may have occurred to the professor that he was sick and tired of these things happening and he was not about to take it anymore.

And Houston, we have lift off!

The professor went straight up like the space shuttle. He was simply not going to have some white policeman come into his house pointing a gun in his face and ordering him about, when he was simply going about his lawful business.

Things were said and both men became ever more upset. It is a miracle that the policeman did not shoot the professor, but instead he arrested him, put him in handcuffs and took him downtown. There, someone with a much cooler head explained to the policeman that the professor had broken into his own home; and the professor was informed that the poor policeman was trying to do his job under the most trying of circumstances, namely, by trying to protect the professor’s own property.

I imagine that it was at this stage that both men went to their own respective corners and had a good cry, while the rest of the precinct had a good laugh. However, while this was happening the plot thickened very badly because a lopsided version of events reached President Obama about his friend’s predicament, and while holding a press conference he let slip that he thought that the Cambridge police had acted “stupidly”.

Open mouth and insert both feet!

When everyone had calmed down the President realised he had made his first real faux pas. He could not take back his words nor apologise for them, so what he did was invite both men to The White House for a beer summit with himself, the Vice-President and about four million journalists, where actions were explained and recognition was given to a good officer who was acting in the execution of his difficult job. Astonishingly, none of these proud men could find the words to say “I’m sorry that I made things worse then they need have been”. But, they did find the funny side of the incident, and they found respect for one another.

I’m sure that profiling of certain members of the public continues to be a problem. A white officer of another police department made a comment on the incident that was racially inappropriate. There were calls for him to lose his job, which I hope didn’t happen, especially in these difficult times. However, he definitely needed to be referred to sensitivity training.

All in all, a very interesting incident and a test of where America is on race relations. There are so many lessons to be learned from this incident, including lessons for the President of the United States. I thought the President recovered from the situation well by using a little ingenuity. We really must take our hats off to him.

As for the professor and the policeman, they have stayed in touch and it would appear that a genuine friendship is building. I wish them well for the future.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

The Science of Shopping

It's a Girl Thing!

As a man this title will probably confuse you. In the world of shopping men and women display attitudes from different planets, as suggested by the popular book.

I have spent three weeks surrounded by four women as they went shopping and I have had my awareness sharpened. Let me tell you how I shop and you will get a fairly good idea from that, especially if you are a woman, of how we men deal with the task when it is absolutely necessary.

Say, I need a new suit. For me this would equate to buying a house, so some time must be spent on the details. Because I’m not a rich man my suits will come from off the rack. Before arriving at the shop I will decide on the colour and style, so when I get to the shop I go directly to that rack and find my size. All that is left is for me to have the leg size taken and to pay for it. If I’m in the shop for more than ten minutes it’s because the salesman was busy with another customer when I went in.

The experience of shopping for a woman is different to that. No matter whether they are shopping for something small, or, heaven forbid, something major, they put the same effort into the process. On one day we went into a shopping mall and the ladies all went into a particular shop. They were in there for the best part of an hour and came out with a very small inconsequential package. In the history of men that has never happened.

When shopping for Spanish style fans it was fascinating to observe how every fan displayed was touched, opened, waved a few times, looked over on both sides, fondly caressed, held up to the face, and looked at in the mirror.

I once bought a dozen fans to take as gifts. I went into the store and said I’ll take one of each, (which is how I know they had a dozen different styles), paid for them and left. Whole thing took a little less than two minutes.

Can someone please tell me what is it about women and shoes? We tried to walk down a street and they spotted every shoe store, whether it was on the side that we were walking or the other side. I would continue on walking, totally oblivious and when I looked they were like deer caught in the glow of my headlights.

Imelda Marcos, the wife of a dictator was discovered to have a closet with so many pairs of shoes that all we men scoffed, and every woman said “lucky bitch!” I should be careful how I touch on this subject however, because I have managed to build up a collection myself of far too many shoes. My excuse is that I am looking for a pair of shoes that don’t make my feet hurt, when the problem all along is my feet.

I like the company of women, but I have discovered that if I’m in their company whether they are on a shopping trip or not, I need to have plenty of patience. In case you didn’t know, shopkeepers, if they are wise, will provide comfortable chairs placed throughout their stores. Those are man-chairs where us guys get to sit down and shut up.




The other thing you might not have noticed is that each mall has 99% shops where women are the target customers, and even if they have a men’s department it will be tiny by comparison. However, hardware stores are an entirely different concept and don’t count in this study.

Finally, there was the time when my wife and I were looking to buy a house. I had more time to scout around, but every suggestion I came up with was rejected. One of the objections was that we were too far removed from the metro station. So, I got fed up and gave my wife my power of attorney and told her to but us a house. I didn’t want to be consulted, nor did I want to see it before she had signed the papers.

Is the house that she bought perfect in every way. Yes, and No! Am I content with it? Yes, actually!



Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

The Professor and the Police

A Very Good Friend to Have!

Topic “A” this week is that unfortunate incident in Cambridge, Mass, in the United States which blew way out of proportion. To summarise, the police were called to attend what a member of the public thought was a possible break-in in progress at the home of a Harvard professor. In fact, what the witness saw was the professor trying to force open the door to his own home, as the door had become stuck. The professor is black and the police officer who attended is white.

What appears to have happened is that the officer approached the professor as a suspect, and the professor became outraged and saw things that simply were not there.Fundamentally, this was a most unfortunate incident, and past events formed the basis of a bad reaction.

America’s history involving black men and white officers, and even some black officers is very bad. Perhaps even now black professionals find themselves being stopped and harassed if they are driving top of the line cars, just because they are vulnerable. There is a lot of resentment that goes back over many years. If you are a black man going about your business carrying a music case and it’s late at night, the police may well stop you and demand an impromptu mini concert to satisfy themselves that you are a musician on your way home from a gig.

Professionals resent it; and the common man resents being profiled as a possible wrong doer without any basis other than his colour. The Harvard professor had no idea that a call had been made, so he apparently thought that this white officer had taken it into his head to rough him up, for fun. He reacted, as I might have reacted myself. I would have been wrong, and I think that the professor was wrong.

Here we had a distinguished man who had worked hard and who deserved to be respected. But, he was being treated like a common criminal, and I imagine he thought, “How dare you! Don’t you know who I am? I am a respected professional and I will not allow you to treat me in this manner!” And it appears that everything that the officer said only added fuel to that fire, to the point where the officer felt that as a police officer he would not stand for a member of the public treating him and his office in a disrespectful manner.

So the stage was set for a disaster. Two bull-headed men determined not to blink. So, after warnings that went unheeded he arrested the professor for at least disorderly conduct.

I understand the motives of both men and sympathise with them both. The professor was standing up for the dignity of all black men, and the officer was simply trying to do his job under very trying circumstances.

What a mess, you might be prepared to say. Yeah, a real mess, but it gets messier. The professor is a personal friend of the President of The United States, and when the lopsided story got to him he stood before the cameras and opined that the Cambridge police had “acted stupidly.” The entire world sucked in its breath because we could see that the man who chooses his words wisely had put his foot firmly in the muck up to his ankles.
I understand his emotions but why he would have chosen to speak on a matter of local law is beyond me. President Barak Obama took the sucker punch and his supporters around the world could not believe it. He is, after all, a human, not necessarily a Superman. However, having realised his mistake once he calmed down has tried to correct his faux pas by making a statement that says, in so many words, the he used an unfortunate choice of words, and he phoned the officer and they chatted, and he confirmed that he believes that the officer is a good man. He said that he now believes that both men over-reacted during the incident, and that he did not intend to malign the police department.

Good!

Now I hope that the professor has also calmed down and can see the officer’s point of view, and can accept that in the line of police work black men will arrest white men, and vice versa, and the same thing for women who will arrest both men and women, and it need not necessarily be anything other than law enforcement in progress.

Unfortunately, there are still those rogue cops out there who give policing in America a bad name. I hope that this acts as a wake-up call to such prehistoric creatures that the days of harassment of black men for fun are over. It has been an embarrassment to all the players involved, but if the message gets through to those who need to hear it, that would be a good thing.


Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

What Sort of Crime is This?

Man's Inhumanity to Man taken to a new an Frightening Low!

There is a case currently before the courts that I would like to write about, but I have to be careful as the matter being sub-judice, my words might influence the justices. The essential facts being alleged are as follows: A man and his female passenger while driving came upon a young motorcyclist lying in the road after having been involved in an accident with another car. Accidentally, they drove over the man and immediately stopped. At this point, I doubt that the suspects have committed any offence. What has happened to the motorcyclist is very tragic, but I think that none of the blame for anything that has happened can be put on the suspects.

Many things take place in the course of the driving day that are peculiar. We can only avoid becoming involved in tragedies if we are vigilant and if we anticipate what could happen, so in order to try to avoid them happening. For instance, many people drive as though they are the only people using the road. That is the completely incorrect assumption, of course, so it is our responsibility to be in the correct position in the road at all times. The other thing that is in our own interests is to choose a speed at which to travel that is safe and comfortable.

Continuing with the story: our suspects are in a situation in which any driver might find himself. We have come upon a young accident victim lying in the road and we have been unable to avoid running over him. We have stopped with the young man trapped under our car. This is horrible! What should we do next? I hear you say get out of the car and give as much help as you can. That makes sense to me, and is mandated by law, especially to drivers and their passengers who are involved in an accident.

It is alleged that the suspects in this case did not do that. Instead, they drove off, dragging the man, and it had to be obvious to them that he was being dragged. It is further alleged that they drove on for two kilometres with the body still attached to their car. At the end of the two kilometres, according to an eyewitness, they turned off the main road onto a side road, and inside that side road the car was driven backwards and forwards until the body became disentangled

The suspects deny that any of these things happened involving them, but the driver is charged with murder, and his passenger is charged with failing to give assistance to the victim. It seems that eye witness reports and cctv cameras do place them where they don’t want to be placed.

So, if the facts are as the prosecution allege, I have three questions: Why? Why? And Why?

Why would a driver, finding himself in the predicament of having collided with a person in the road, and now stopped, drive off instead of getting out of his car to offer assistance?

It might be because he had no driver’s license and insurance; or was drunk; or was carrying something in his car that would cause great difficulty.



Why drive on dragging a person, who, it is alleged, had life in him?

This is the one question that no one else other than the driver can answer, if he knows. I can believe that his passenger is as horrified as I am, and judging by the body language of the photo taken of the two of them in court, (he is sitting at one end of a bench, and she is at the other), he cannot expect much help from her.

Finally, why, after dragging a man’s body for two kilometres could a person be so heartless as to drive his car backwards and forwards until the body became dislodged and then drive away? This is a statement of man’s inhumanity that makes me very uncomfortable. I know that in war times, particularly involving the nazis, some things were done that are simply impossible to believe, and I find it beyond my own comprehension that I, or anyone whom I know, could stoop so low.

So, I end this with another question: What crime has actually been committed? Prosecutors have charged this man with murder, but that seems to me to not properly reflect the gravity of the crime. No one else should feel free to do the same thing because they will be free again after serving a few years behind bars. The judge in the case, if finding the man guilty as charged, should be able to throw the whole book at him. Most importantly the family of the young man must gain the satisfaction of believing that justice has been properly served.

I have a son about his age who rides a motorcycle. Were I in the shoes of that most unfortunate family, it would take a whole lot more than the standard sentence for murder to convince me that justice was well and truly done. Of that you can be sure!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Family Visits

Family


I will state right up front that this will be a very short blog. The title will give a clue as to why that is. I presently have family visiting us from Bermuda, and I’m as excited as can be that we are all together under one roof.

I have read from many people of family and friends who come to call, and there can be problems adjusting. However, when there has been a long time between visits, or as in my case it’s the first ever visit since we have been here, the value is beyond computation.

We have been here ten years and we have been talking about this visit all along, however, there have been some serious terrorist activities, two wars involving America and to some extent Europe, and a very weak euro. I have been back to Bermuda a couple of times and it was good to be with everyone. Now I get the chance to show my family “my Spain”, and they get to see what is keeping me here. Strictly speaking, a weak dollar with which we have been living is telling us to quit the euro zone, and I know that we should. There is quality of life here that we are unwilling to part with so we live from day-to-day.

We are in the midst of fiesta time and there is so much to partake of, so I am busying myself with being tour guide and putting all my knowledge and experience to good use. So, that is just what I will do, but I promise to write a blog detailing the virtue of family together in peace, harmony and enjoying life to the full.

Stay tuned!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Goodbye! Michael Jackson

Goodbye! MJ
One of a Kind!

First, there was the announcement that Michael Jackson had died of a heart attack. Fans around the world said I don’t believe that. Surely that’s a publicity stunt ahead of his big concert series!

Then we saw what appeared to be his body wrapped in a body bag being taken from his home in California. Fans said that they didn’t see any body. How were they supposed to know who, if anyone was wrapped in that bag. It was all just part of the stunt, they said.

Then it was reported that there had been conducted two autopsies on his body. Fans said, remember Thriller. This will be bigger than Thriller when Michael walks out with a massive posse behind him.

Then there was a reading of his Will before he had even been interred. What’s wrong with these people, have they no dignity or shame? They said that he had left his father out of his will. In other words he did not give any of his debts to his dad. That was decent of him. Something that is supposed to be private has been splashed around the world. Fundamentally, what Michael has said is “Being of sound mind and body, I’ve spent all my money, and a lot of yours as well.!” Good on yer Mike!

Then came the funeral and the internment, and Michael didn’t get up from the coffin with “Thriller II” playing in the background, and fans said, You know what, even for Michael this would have been one off the wall, over the top, way, way out there publicity stunt. We had better believe that physical Michael has gone on to do a gig on the Big Stage in the sky.

So, it’s time to face the facts and let go. We will always have his music to play when we wish, and we can choose to remember him as we would like to. It can now be seen clearly that he was unique. No one like him, no one equal to him. This is life happening, and sometimes life sucks. But, it’s real and not even someone as big as Michael could beat that system.

Now comes the contest between Elvis and Michael to see who can sell the most memorablia while being "retired".

So, Rest In Peace Michael, and thanks for the memories!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

MJ. Super Nova Star

Michael Jackson

The King of Pop is Dead

Long Live the King!

Topic “A” this week is not the hundreds of people being blown to bits in Afganistán and Iraq, nor is it the many local conflicts in Africa or the millions of starving people around the world who are dying from malnutrition and other illnesses. It’s not even Silvio Berlosconi’s alleged scandals, or the matter of toxic assets. Lost jobs, lost homes, lost businesses, lost futures, lost educations have all been relegated to Topic “B”.

Topic “A” is simply one thing, The Death, the untimely and unexpected death of Michael Jackson. For the media Christmas came early. Editors everywhere worth their salt greeted the news of this event with one word: “WOW!” All vacations have been suspended, and staffs have been called in to work overtime. This is BIG!

MJ’s brother struggled to make an announcement that he ended with a plea to the media to please respect the family’s privacy. He certainly wasn’t trying to be funny, but I was amused because the one thing that the media won’t do is that.

MJ was 50 at the time of his sudden and untimely death. In the words of one of his own songs, he was taken away from us “Too Soon.” Now, we who write have been left with the almost impossible task of choosing something to say about him. There is simply so much material available, so I will begin by saying that I have been thoroughly entertained, or horrified by MJ, but never bored.

Love him or hate him, the one thing that is incontestable is that the world has seldom seen such pure and unfettered talent. In looking at videos of his performances with a critical eye we see moves so fluid and hear sounds so original that place him in the state of being a pioneer. Many people have tried to emulate him, but always they come up short. The original is the original and stands alone.

Here my mind begins to go off in separate directions all at once and that tells me to make a very long story as short as possible. I would need to write several books to capture the complete essence of the man because he was so many personalities.

I must say that I was as shocked and surprised as the rest of the world over his sudden passing. However, try as hard as I can I cannot see MJ as a grandfather. I should not be surprised. In the galaxy of stars it is the Super Nova that shines the brightest, but its life is short lived. It explodes with its coming, burns the brightest during its existence, and then its gone in a flash. I think this is an adequate description of MJ. Long after he’s physically left us he will be talked about and revered. In reality his physical presence here on earth was pre-determined to be short.

Now that he has taken his bow and left the building I would like to add my voice to the growing chorus that says: “ MJ, thanks so much for the superb entertainment and the memories. You provided my own life with such a rich soundtrack, and I choose to remember you fondly.”

His greatest performance could be yet to come on the occasion of his funeral. Strictly speaking it should be a private affair, but the Jackson family may decide to open it up to the public, who after all are as much his family. In any event, somehow I think this will be the funeral of the century.
This will be something to see. In MJ’s own words, “This is IT!”

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

The Relative Lottery

Lady Luck's balls


This past week a 73 year-old man and his wife won twenty-five million pounds in the U.K. Lottery. I´m happy for them but why couldn’t they have won that when they were twenty-five? He said that they have no intention of letting it change their lives in any way, which leaves me wondering why they played in the first place.

In these times of economic crisis to win a lot of money must surely have even more significance than normal. At least for these two people they need never have to worry again about paying their bills or outliving their money. Now they only have to worry about losing interest and capital loss as the world around them goes to hell in a handbasket.

Can you win millions of any currency and not be affected by it to the extent that you continue to live your life the old way? Apparently, the man has a gardening allotment in a community of DIY gardeners, and after discovering his good fortune on Saturday he still went to his allotment on Sunday, as usual, so perhaps he has a bit of a chance.

I was thinking of myself under similar circumstances. Having received the news the question would be: would I retire instantly? Well, I’m already retired. Would I buy another car? I already have two, and my wife has one. Furthermore, one of my cars is a Jaguar XJ6 Sovereign. How many bleeding cars do I need? Would I open a business? Why? For Heaven’s sake, I’m already retired. Would I buy another house? I already have two.
Relatively speaking, I’m already living the life of a lottery winner. Everything is relative, and a life without too many worries is a very good thing indeed.

How would I allow that much money to change my life? Firstly, my wife could hang up her gloves and become one of the ladies who lunch. Secondly, we would no doubt buy a dream house somewhere in the world, although we do love our present home. There are some ways in which it could be improved, mainly by getting rid of some of our horrible neighbours from hell.

I would love to have the freedom from worry about future income, but when you suddenly come into that type of money you take on a different form of money worry and stress.

This is an interesting exercise for me because the facts are that my life is just lovely as it is. Perhaps it could use just a little more of a cushion but should I win big on the lottery it will be for other peoples benefit. Firstly, my son could be given a really great start in life with some form of career and creature comforts. Only problem is that he insists on his own independence and doing things his own way.

Both my mature daughters are doing well, although I’m sure they wouldn’t mind having a bit of a cushion to fall back on. My grandchildren, and my great granddaughter would have a better shot at a future if their grand dad had some extra bucks to lay on them, and that would be good. My sisters and brothers would be up high on my list of people with whom to share my good fortune with. After that, I have a whole village in Cameroon called Gouria to whom I am dedicated in improving their lot in life, so I wouldn’t have to look very far for things to finance.

Well, I seem to have the perfect profile of someone who deserves to win the lottery in a very big way. So, I’ll just keep on playing and we’ll just have to wait and see what comes of that.

Wish me luck!

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael

Fear of Flying!

Catching the Bus!

If you suffer the fear of flying nothing that I am going to say is likely to cure you. We have all shared the story of something that was not supposed to happen with Air France flight 447. The Airbus is a very robust aircraft that was simply thought impossible to be brought down by simple weather. In a sense it’s almost like a replay of the Titanic.

It was made even more dramatic by the fact that the flight had vanished hours before the public became aware of the tragedy. At Paris they were being told that its arrival was delayed. How horrible for them to then discover the awful truth in little instalments.

So if you are someone who has a fear of flying, all of these events have done nothing to ease your fears. In fact, I suspect that a lot of confident people are badly shaken. Professionals who coach people into a state of being at ease about flying do a wonderful job, principally because they talk all around the topic without cutting to the chase. I am going to take a different course and be blunt. Being blunt is how I deal with the uncertainty, and it does work for me as well as it might.

Life is one gigantic gamble. There are no real guarantees. Companies that give them, and governments that make them find that their guarantees dissolve the minute that they do. Life is about risk with the only certainty being that we live, and then we will die. In the meantime there are plenty of times when we must trust our very lives to others.

When we require a medical operation we trust that the operating team will get it right and that we will survive. Such a chance can be thrust upon us as a matter of life or death. It’s all about the risk to reward equation. We may be silly to take the risk of dying under sedation for something minor or selective.

Another time in our lives when we place our lives in the care of a stranger is when we hail a taxi, or take a bus, or simply ride with a friend. Control of the vehicle is in the hands of someone else, and our lives depend upon their skill and judgement. However, I am unaware of something called Fear of Travelling by bus or train or friend. But, there could be classes for people affected by such situations.

In some countries, a simple trip out to the market might be the last thing that you do as there are suicide bombers about. Even going to church could be where your life will end. At least with regard to flying, security measures are quite stringent to keep that form of travelling fairly safe.

When you drive or ride your own vehicle you run the risk of doing something silly yourself that ends in a collision that takes your life, or just being on the road opens you up to the risk of actions by others.

So, the bottom line is this: it is natural to want to live and to avoid situations that place our lives in peril, but the simple fact is that it is not possible to avoid all such risk. There are people who do not leave their own hometown because they won’t fly, yet they are at even greater risk in the everyday things that they do. When it is my time to die, I will die. I might be in an airplane, or on a ship, a bus, in my car or in my bed, but I will come to the end. The only question is whether I die alone or together with a bunch of strangers. I’m not suggesting that I will be happy about it, or even stoic.
What I will not do is die more than once. I am concerned for people who die a small death every time they take a risk. They must suffer such terrible stress over something they cannot totally avoid. My philosophy is to do the opposite and to live life to the full until the day that my life comes to an abrupt halt. Then that will be that.

I don’t save anything for a special occasion; I use the special dishes and cutlery; there’s not too much in my savings account; I own two cars and a motorcycle; and I live each day as though it were my last.

By-the-way, if it’s of any comfort, travel by regularly scheduled aircraft is still the safest method of all. Now, if only they could do something about all the other things that make airline travel such a pain in the ass.

Copyright © 2009 Eugene Carmichael