Surprise! People Actually Read This!

In the middle of a recent medical appointment, my doctor looked up from his notes and mentioned that he'd enjoyed several entries of BillsWeek, the blog which you are currently reading.

I was a bit nonplussed. After all, the man who has examined some of my most private places may have inadvertently learned something personal about me.

I was in a meeting at work recently when a manager casually mentioned that she, too, had read BillsWeek. After a moment of surprise, my mind quickly reviewed all content from the last several months to see if there were anything I didn't want people at work to see.

Ooops - should have thought about that before.

That's the thing about putting stuff on the Internet. While odds are slim that any one person will actually see it, chances are good that someone will, and it's unfortunately not going to be the people we want. For example, I wish a certain neighbor would see what I wrote about her unsupervised child throwing rocks at my window a while back, but I'm fairly certain she doesn't read BillsWeek, or anything for that matter. My doctor, however, now knows, whether or not I want him to, that I have a problem with the way children run wild in my neighborhood.

Nothing on line is private. As I have said to many new employee classes: don't post anything that you wouldn't want your mother to see. One only need recall that photo of former Congressman Anthony Weiner's wiener to know that even sending "private" text messages is risky.

The Internet is like a tattoo. When you're young, it's fun to do something outrageous in the spur of the moment, just for shock value. But do you really want that future hiring manager to see it?

I'm careful not to write about some personal things in BillsWeek. It's not that I'm ashamed of much. It's just, unfortunately, not in my best interest to give some people information they may use against me later. I'm also careful not to complain about my job (not that I ever would, of course) or trash individuals that I know personally - with one or two exceptions, such as neighbors' children, one of whom will probably be my boss someday.

With All Eyes on Colorado, I'm in Minnesota

It's fun to live in a swing state.

Make room, Ohio. Colorado's electoral votes are hotly contested and could be pivotal in this year's presidential election. As a result, the candidates visit often. Disrupted traffic is a regular event as motorcades transport President Obama to and from Air Force One which is usually parked out at the local air force base.

The first debate between the President and that other guy will be at the University of Denver this Wednesday. The national press will descend upon the Mile High City like they haven't since the Democratic National Convention in 2008, which nominated Mr. Obama for his first term.

When you watch the focus groups and pundits and analysts and news anchors in Denver on October 3, just 10 minutes away from my home, don't worry about me being stuck on I-25 - which will be closed in the middle of town at rush hour. 

I'm 900 miles away in Minnesota. Can I time my trips or what?

I haven’t been here for several years, but Minneapolis is still a progressive, beautiful, northern city. Is Michele Bachmann really from around here? No, I am told. This is not her district.  

Minnesota is a blue state, radical right-wing congresswomen notwithstanding. It’s not a swing state so things are a little quieter here, though a hotly contested anti-gay marriage amendment and an anti-immigrant voter ID amendment are on the ballot. So I am reminded that you don’t have to live in a swing state to have a contestable, divisive election.

I’ll be watching the debate on TV with Minnesota friends, who like me, are cheering for the President and hoping the challenger will really blow it. In addition to the usual comments and zingers from the candidates, I’ll be listening closely to what the national media are saying about my home town.

Meanwhile, though far from I-25, I suppose I could still get caught in a Minneapolis-St. Paul traffic jam.

I Like Autumn - Now

It has finally rained. All summer long, we begged for a break from that record heat. Fires burned out of control as temperatures soared. The relief was palpable this week when, finally, mornings were chilly there was a little moisture in the air.

Autumn is truly a lovely time. I used to hate it.

I think it's because I really, intensely, hate winter. I hate having to wear a lot of clothes. I have having to put a coat on just to take out the trash. I hate the prospect of driving through ice and snow. I hate the endless darkness, long nights, and general absence of sun.

The fall used to remind me that an awful winter was sure to follow. But something's changed the past couple of years.

Winters are shorter than they used to be, or at least because of my advanced age, everything goes faster.

I've also developed some winter coping strategies such as going to Southern California during the worst of it. Joining a gym so I could exercise inside no matter what the temperature also helped - though I have to pile on the layers of clothing just to get there.

 Winters are also not as cold as they used to be.  Climate change has raised the average temperature. Not that I'm in favor of climate change, but can I help it if I like the occasional warm winter day?

Should I buy an e-reader?

When it comes to technology, I'm no slouch, but I'm also not the first on my block to try the newest electronic anything. I didn't get cable until about 20 years after everyone else and that was only basic. My phone is only of reasonable intelligence (it's not smart, in other words), and I don't have an iPad. I do have an iPod, but it's big and clunky compared to the kind they make now. I only just got digital TV and blue ray. I still don't know what blue ray is, but I have it.

One area where I'm decidedly low tech is the books I read: traditional paper bound volumes. I should get some tech credit for searching for and reserving books from the public library on line. But I still cart around one to three heavy tomes in my back pack on any given day.

I always have a book with me. I'm terrified of being someplace where I have to sit with nothing to read. What if I take someone to the dentist and have to wait? What if my car breaks down and I have to sit in a garage for hours? What if the electricity goes off and I can't watch TV or go on the net?

Naturally I've noticed the growing popularity of electronic reading. Kindle and Nook readers are everywhere and people swear by them. So I'm starting to consider getting one.

The advantages are obvious: carrying around multiple books without being weighed down, downloading books practically anywhere you can connect wirelessly, lower cost per book, and the availability of newspapers and other reading material.

Of course one must consider the downside: I would surely drop and break an ereader and the cost per book is still more than the library, which is free.

But the biggest argument against it for me is this: If you have a Kindle, you must buy all your books from Amazon and if you have a Nook, you have to buy all your books from Barnes and Noble. I'd rather buy books from a local independent bookseller such as The Tattered Cover (three metro Denver locations). I think you can buy from TC using a non-affiliated ereader, but see, it's starting to sound pretty complicated.

A lot of people say they'd rather feel the weight of the book in their hand and turn the paper pages. That's not me. I'd be fine not having to turn the page of a book only to discover a ketchup smear from a long forgotten fast food lunch.

Many people pride themselves on having book covered walls, in owning millions of books. I used to collect books, but found that they collect, in turn, dust.

I imagine I'll eventually make the leap to paperless reading. It just takes me longer than some. And once I figure out how to download material from the Tattered Cover, I'll be more than half way there.

10,000 is a Lot of Steps

My new doctor is medically up to date, knowledgeable about all of my pre-existing conditions, and seems holistic in his outlook. He has a plaque on the wall from 5280 Magazine honoring him as a top Denver doc. And I'm really annoyed with him.

I figured I'd go see the primary care physician initially to get established in his practice, and then once a year for physicals and the occasional virus. My intake visit was supposed to be routine and quick; my insurance card would be copied, he would look in my ears with that pointy ear thing, I'd cough once or twice while he listened to my lungs, and I'll be on my way.

Not so fast.

After asking about my family history, checking my weight and waist size, and delving into my age (old), life style (sedentary), occupation (sedentary), and habits (sedentary), my new doctor decided I was at risk for heart disease. Long story short, I need more exercise than my four weekly gym visits, and I need to follow a stricter diet than my already established Weight Watchers inspired regime. He scheduled a follow up and gave me a month and a half to lose 10 pounds. So much for that perfunctory annual visit.

The good doctor also prescribed fish oil, a daily aspirin, and a pedometer which counts steps. I have to walk 10,000 steps each day.

The first day I had that little thing in my pocket, I conscientiously did my treadmill routine at the gym, parked further away than usual in the parking lot at work, took the stairs to my office instead of the elevator, walked to the bathroom countless times, hoofed it to the local BBQ place for dinner (I know, but I'm focusing on one goal at a time), took out the trash twice, and still barely cleared 9,000 steps. My god! What does a person have to do? I'll never make it! 

I don't really blame the doc. He's doing his job, and according to 5280, he's good at it. It's just that (and now we come to the whiny part of the blog) I thought I was doing pretty well. I don’t smoke or drink. I exercise a lot more now than I did a couple of years ago and I've been disciplined, sort of, on Weight Watchers. But when age 50 rapidly approaches, health is apparently a moving target. Just when you've got a good routine down, you get a little older and you have to do more.

I Think I’d Rather Take the Train

If we are what we drive, what is a person who takes public transportation?

 What we drive says a lot about us. We might be economical and practical, or big and flashy. It seems that guys who take up more than one lane in their huge pick-up trucks are the same ones who take up extra space by spreading their legs when they sit down.

Uh …

What were we talking about? Oh, yes.

I don't know if what I drive says all that much about me. I've always liked trains. When I was a kid, I had lots of toy trains, including an HO gauge model railroad around which I built an entire town with trees and a lake. Now, I get a little thrill when I'm on my way to work and the highway aligns with an RTD light rail train full of commuters.

RTD is the Regional Transportation District - metro Denver's public transportation system.

The irony of admiring the sleek light rail from inside my car isn't lost on me.

I like my car too. I sometimes think of my silver Altima as a high speed bullet train, gliding at super speeds between my home in Denver and my office in Highlands Ranch, with Mount Fuji looming nearby (hey, it's my fantasy). Until, of course, I have to brake for wall of stopped traffic caused by the woman in the left lane who is too busy talking on the phone to pay attention to her speed, or what lane she's in.

When I lived in New York City way back in the previous century, I didn't need a car. I almost always took the subway to get around town. It was fast and cheap. It also smelled like urine and sometimes broke down, but several decades later I choose to remember only the good things.

Early in my Denver days, I sold my car and moved around exclusively by RTD. That was before light rail was on the scene. I saved a bunch of money and lost a lot of time. Unlike NYC subways, the busses in Denver were agonizingly slow. While light rail is faster, it usually doesn't go exactly where I need to.

To get to work on RTD, I either have to drive or take a slow bus to the train, after which I transfer to another bus. It takes an hour and a half, one way. That seems even longer when there's a cold winter wind blowing through my coat while I wait between rides.

Mass transit saves money, is better for the environment, cuts down on traffic, and engenders a sense of community by enabling people to interact. But I'm pretty typical. For all my bluster about riding the rails, 98 percent of the time you'll find me alone in my automobile.

Parents Leave Us Many Things

The note on the counter said, "12 lis tgs." It was in my late father's handwriting. It freaked me out a little bit. When did he write this? Then I remembered. The reminder to get my 2012 license plate tags had been written the night before - by me.

Last week, my family and I combed through 50 years of my father's and mother's belongings. Since Dad's death in April, we've been trying to sort out our inheritance - investments and property, and less valuable items such as dishes and photos and Christmas decorations.

We inherit a lot of things from our parents, some of it material, some not. My handwriting is a genetic inheritance - perhaps the shape of my hand bones and the way they hold a pen.

I like to think I have the best traits of both my parents. From my mother, I have a sharp sense of justice and a deep well of common sense. From my father, I have a love of teaching and reading, and I can cook pretty well. From both of them, I have a good sense of humor.

Inherited traits are not always something to be proud of, however. For example, I have received my dad's total lack of athleticism, stunted mechanical ability, and general absent-mindedness.

Some of my traits I don't think came from either parent. For example, neither would ever forget to renew their license plates.

Sometimes, we go out of our way to be not like our parents. The worst thing you can say to a spouse during an argument is, "You sound just like your mother." I took great offence once when this insult was hurled at me. I am way more reasonable than she was when arguing.

I don't have any grand conclusions to make from this, except that inheritance isn’t just about money and stuff. You also get the benefits and pitfalls of someone’s genes - and if you're lucky, a sense of humor.