Things Were Starting to Get Better, And Then...

I realize that it's been a while since I've posted. It's not that I meant to disappear for eight months (!), but as John Lennon once said, "Life is what happens to you while you are making other plans." I'd meant to write about the Christmas parade where I live being canceled last December because of the pandemic, and then having a very shortened version of it the following week, the advent of the COVID-19 vaccines that were pushed through, the slow openening up of life in general.

Of course, none of those posts happened. I'll have to post about those in the near future, along with photos (where applicable).

Things were starting to get better, for the most part. Maybe not great yet, but better than the past year, with all the mask-wearing,-social-distancing,-job-losses and stuff. There had been some hiccups along the way, but then, that's life, right?

Maybe an hour ago, I got a call from my cousin Charles. While we'd occasionally touch base of Facebook ("Happy Birthday!", "Merry Christmas!", that sort-of stuff), it had been a while since we'd spoken. In fact, I think that the last time I'd heard his voice was during my mom's memorial service.

Photos from Mom's memorial.

Charles, David, Tyson (behind Charles), Amy

Charles (waving), Chris, Tyson, David (waving), Amy

After a brief hello, Charlie informed me that his dad, my Uncle Dave, had passed away over the weekend...something about a fall, a trip to the hospital, but that there hadn't been much that could be done. He'd turned 93 in April, had been Mom's only sibling, three years Mom's senior.

Most of us are aware that our parents (if they're still alive) will die someday, as will we. But it's still a shock when it happens. Our parents were around since we were born, and, therefore, are going to be around forever, right?

We spoke for several minutes, reminiscing a little, talking about the shock of losing a parent, talking about how my aunt is holding up. (As well as can be expected, considering.) My aunt and uncle had been married 67 years, no small feat.

We talked a little longer...he caught me up on how his brother and sister were handling this, as well as some other cousins who live nearby.

With Dave's passing, his and Mom's generation (with the exception of my aunt) have gone on.

Mom, make sure you say "hi" to Dave.

Here are a few more photos from Mom's memorial.

For Anyone Needing a Smile - and a Lesson Dealing with Scammers

So most of us are undergoing probably one of the most stressful years in recent history. There's the COVID pandemic, the ensuing economic downturn, and major protests going on. It's like the 1918 pandemic meets the beginnings of the Great Depression meets 1968.

Seriously, I think most of us will be glad to give new meaning to the phrase Hindsight is 20/20.

This morning, while looking over Facebook, a friend (a professor who teaches journalism at the University of South Florida St. Petersburg) mentioned dealing with a phone call/telemarketer, managing to get the person to hopefully never call again.

I responded by posting how I've dealt with scammers by posting a link to this blog from 2013.

This got me thinking about a call I got years ago when I got to really have fun with the scammers.

I've known Candy (not her real name) for y-e-a-r-s. One afternoon, she called me on my cell phone, panicking.

"I just got a call from the IRS. The recording said that they've got a warrant for me, and to call them back. They left a phone number."

I assured her that it was a scam.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, definitely."

About this time, my home phone rang, and darned if I didn't get the same stupid recording!

"You won't believe this, but I just got the same call."

"Wow, what are the odds?"

At that point, I decided to show Candy how to deal with these scammers. "I'm going to call the number, and put the home phone on speaker phone so you can hear."

"Okay."

At that point, I dialed punched in a couple of numbers to mask my home phone number, then the phone number the recording wanted me to call. When the heavily accented person answered, claiming to be "John Smith," the first thing he asked was for my number. The conversation went (approximately) as follows:

Me: Sorry, I can't give that out, but I can give you my name.

John: Okay. Last name first.

Me: Patel. (Not my real last name, but that's part of the charm.)

John: Okay. First name?

Me: Skittles (yes, like the candy).

John: Can you spell that?

At that point, I spelled it for him.

John: I found it! You owe the IRS $5,000! Now, your address, please?

I gave him the address to the local post office, along with a 6-digit P.O. box. (The local post office only has 4-digit p.o. boxes, so I figured I was safe.)

John: Okay, we do have the police enroute to arrest you, as we speak.

Me: How can we fix this so I don't get arrested?

John: I am authorized to help you in this situation...

At this point, he said that if I'd pick up $1000 of gift cards...

I kept the ruse going for several more minutes before finally admitting that Skittles Patel was not my real name. I did mention that my next-door neighbor was a high-ranking IRS agent at the local office, that my father was a high ranking official with the Tampa Bay office of the FBI, my brother, who was sitting right next to me, worked for the Secret Service (all three of which were not true, but considering I was dealing with a bold-voiced scammer, I figured all bets were off - in real life, I'd never b.s. like this), and, oh, by the way, in about two minutes, there'd be approximately 15-20 large sedans pulling up to the building the scammer was calling from, each sedan with 3-4 federal agents, all ready to arrest everyone in his office.

There was an ever-so-slight pause before I heard John call out (not into the phone, but to his coworkers), "Code Black, Code Black, Code Black! Everyone vacate the premises now!" Then the line went dead.

By now, Candy was laughing hard; it took her a minute to catch her breath.

"I never would've thought of doing that!" she gasped.

"Still think that the IRS is after you?"

"No," was her answer.

While we then went on to talk about other things - her family, my family, life in general - I hope this helped you in three ways: (1) I hope you realize that this is not how the IRS would contact you (they'd do it by mail on official IRS stationary); (2) you can either ignore the scammers or give 'em the grief they deserve; and (3) you've at least gotten to laugh...which is a good thing during these trying times.

Be Safe

To all my friends, both online and in real life, please be safe. These are tough times: COVID, job losses due, in part, to COVID, and now the rioting among those who don't understand (or care) the difference between peaceful protests that affect positive change and violence that makes things much, much worse.

Be safe, if you're part of the protests. Remember: peace begets peace, violence begets violence.

Be safe, if you're a journalist - print, network news, independent, photographer - letting the public know what's going on, especially (but not exclusively) if you're a person of color (non-white). We need you to STAY SAFE!

Be safe, if you're a police officer, firefighter/EMT/paramedic, member of the National Guard, etc., and remember those protesting peacefully are your brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, decent human beings...and act accordingly.

Be safe, if you run across police, firefighters, National Guard, etc. Remember that they are also your brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, decent human beings...and act accordingly.

We are all in this together. If we can remember that, if we can remember that most of us are decent people, if we hold the bad accountable while helping each other out, no matter that person's race, gender, ethnicity, religion, or any other "different-from-me," we can get through this.

One last thought: in 5, 10, 20 years, when someone asks you, "What did you do during 2020, when everything was going to hell?", how do you want to be able to respond? That you made a positive difference in someone's life? Or that you were a violent vandal? Think about that when you go out.

And be safe.

I wrote this yesterday, with one or two minor changes, and posted it on Facebook after reading and viewing reports, including in the Tampa Bay Times and other newspapers and network news, of violence and looting during protests following the death of George Floyd at the hands of police in Minneapolis. The anger is understandable; most people - regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, religion, etc - have expressed anger at his death, and how it happened. The peaceful protests can hopefully have a positive affect on life; violence and looting won't help at all.

And Then it Got Real...: The New Normal

Life has a way of changing on so many levels: something comes along and the scenery changes, the way we do things change, and that, in turn, changes the way we see things, perceive them, even as we change with the ongoing evolution of whatever instigated these changes.

Since the beginning of the year, we've heard about the coronavirus. Medscape has an interesting slideshow/article about COVID-19. Apparently the coronavirus has been around longer than many of us realize, according to the Medscape article. But this version, what we're going through now, was pinpointed in January of this year, starting in Wuhan, China. (The wikipedia site mentioned December 2019 as the start, with a World Health Organization link pinpointing it to December 31, 2019.)

At first, most people I know seemed to feel that it was a problem for others, people someplace else. After all, this is the United States; certainly, this wouldn't affect us.

Until it did. Reports started coming in about the virus going worldwide. It affected people across Asia, Europe, the U.K., and, yes, the Americas - Canada, Mexico, and the good ol' U.S. That's when shit started to get real for many of us.

Soon, though, we started getting a little complacent. It can't/won't get worse, we figured. As long as we live right, we'll be okay.

Then, Tom Hanks and his wife, Rita Wilson, came down with COVID-19. While many of us have our own favorite actors and movies and TV shows, Hanks has been a popular person, due, in part, for seeming like one of us, not egotistical. The fact that he and his wife got COVID-19 made it real.

But then, it looked like the pair was going to get better (they did get well), and we could breathe a sigh of relief. See? It's survivable, especially for regular people.

But then the virus spread, and people were getting sick and, in too many cases, dying. Many of us knew someone who'd contracted it, and suddenly, it got real...

In March, gatherings were being canceled. At first, it was advised to avoid gatherings where more than 250 were expected, then gatherings greater than 50, then 10.

This, of course, affected most of us, to one degree or another. The city of Pinellas Park (Florida) canceled their 30th annual Country in the Park celebration ("Strange Times We're Living In..."). City council meetings are now virtual affairs, rather than open-to-the-public meetings. (In fact, the city hall is officially closed to the public for the duration.) Schools nation-wide are closed, with students learning online. (Yes, this includes colleges and universities.) Grocery stores, at least where I live, have colored tape on the floors to indicate how far to stand apart at the check-out lines. Publix, probably the most popular grocery chain in Florida, now has colored tape on floors indicating which way to walk through each aisle, so that the aisles are now one-way. More than once, I've heard people - both customers and workers - point out to others, "Excuse me, but you're going the wrong way!" Yikes!

Yes, it got real.

Life changed in other ways. Businesses are furloughing employees, while the number of people out of work due to COVID-19 has grown to crazy numbers. (My son, M., has been furloughed, and having loads of fun - note the touch of sarcasm - trying to work through Florida's unemployment website.) Easter services were virtual, including the Easter service from the Vatican City, with Pope Francis holding the service via TV. Beaches were closed, though some beaches in northern Florida are starting to open. (The photos from these beaches show people getting too close; so much for social distancing!)

Then, several weeks ago, the Tampa Bay Times (formerly the St. Petersburg Times) announced that they'd be publishing only twice a week (Sunday and Wednesday) for the duration. Since many non-essential businesses have had to close for the duration of the pandemic, these businesses are no longer buying ads until they're able to get back to work. This, of course, affected the paper's income. It is still available online; subscribers can log in and see what the paper would look like the rest of the week.

This stuff got real...

This seems to be the new normal, wondering how long we'll be quarantined, when people can get back to work, when people can actually get back to the old normal. At this point, having life back to the way it was, or something similar, would be welcome.

In the meantime, here's hoping we all stay well and safe.

Strange Times We're Living In...

The call came down a week ago: due to the spread of the coronavirus, the city of Pinellas Park (Florida) was canceling it's annual Country in the Park event. These are strange times we're living in.

This was supposed to be the 30th Annual celebration that the city puts on every March, starting in 1991. The city's annual Chili Blaze Cook-Off, held the day before the County in the Park, was also canceled. The Chili Blaze, run by the city's Fire Department, raises money for Muscular Dystrophy.

In a way, it was probably a bit of a relief to have both canceled. My youngest son, J., and I had never missed a Country in the Park celebration; M., my next-to-youngest, had only missed one (2018) due to a work schedule, as well as what probably turned out to be the lamest of the annual event. By the time M. got off work, J. and I had already headed home, not lasting more than maybe half-an-hour. Fortunately, last year's was somewhat better, and, with the fees for local arts and crafts people reduced to what it had been, years earlier, as well as what seemed like a ramped-up musical stage, it looked like this year's event would be good.

Country in the Park, 2019



Pinellas Park Art Society's booth at the 2019 Country in the Park



But the flip side was the fact that the state and federal governments were warning people about being in large groups. First it was to avoid any group greater than 250 people, especially for anyone over a certain age or who had any underlying conditions. Then, it was avoid any gatherings greater than 50, then 10. It was crazy. And, because the annual events - both the Country in the Park and the Chili Blaze Cook-off - tended to bring out a large portion of the city's population, both events were canceled.

While I completely understood the cancelation, it just felt strange not heading out: it was the third Saturday in March, we'd gone to so many of the yearly events, and when things are getting a little stressful (which this whole coronavirus this is), it's nice having something fun to look forward to.

2011 Chili Blaze





Crowd, 2012 Chili Blaze



While M. and I had gone to only two of the Chili Blazes the night before the Country in the Park (both in 2011 and 2012), the Chili Blaze was always popular, have food and bands to help attract crowds.

Band, Chili Blaze





Suite Caroline, Chili Blaze 2012





All told, with any luck, both events - Chili Blaze and Country in the Park - will be back next year. Hopefully, the coronavirus won't make people too scared to start gathering together in the future.

We can only hope.

Vendors, Country in the Park

Another Thanksgiving Come and Gone

Yesteday was Thanksgiving. I think of it as Paul's and my holiday, of a variety of reasons, some of which I posted several years ago (has it really been nine years? hmmm...). It had to do with my inviting him to Thanksgiving dinner, us both unintentionally standing the other up, joking the following year about having to get married to get a turkey dinner, only to have it be turkey bologna (the person whose benefit we did that for didn't buy what we were saying), then getting four turkeys the Thanksgiving after he died.

There are so many memories when it comes to holidays. But then, that goes along with life in general. Holidays, though, seem to be a condensed version of life, in that everyone who's able to gets together, rather than the occasional one-on-one.

I had originally thought of getting up at five yesterday morning, but then set the alarm for six. (Five a.m. is just too obscene a time to get up, especially to jump right into holiday cooking.) By the time I had the second set of pies in the oven (apple; the first two were pumpkin, which came after baking pumpkin bread), the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade was on. My sons and I watched/listened while they dealt with computers and I worked on the day's dinner.

M. had mentioned that it'd be great to watch the original Miracle on 34th Street right after the parade. We watch it every year, usually in the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas. But I had given him a copy of it last year for Christmas, and he really wanted to watch it after the parade. No problem.

Part of me had wanted to go for a walk after the parade was over. It has been part of my holiday ritual for years, not only on Thanksgiving, but also Christmas and Easter. I've made mention of the walk several times over the years: near the end of a December 2012 post, a post from this past April, dealing with an Easter walk. This second one had me a little down, as I really didn't want to see how much more of the wooded area had been destroyed. On the other hand, the subtle changes are sometimes good, and usually interesting. But then, I also wasn't sure when my daughter and granddaughter would be here. I knew when I'd told them dinner would be close to ready, but I didn't want to leave, in case they came early, and wanted to do something else, like, say going to the beach, as we did last year.

But in the end, I didn't go for a walk. I might, sometime this weekend.

M.H. and G. arrived shortly before five. Dinner still had a little ways to go (not long, but enough...) and while stuff was cooking, G. and I talked while she helped peel potatoes and M.H. worked on homework for school. (She's back in college while working, something I'd done years earlier.)

When dinner was finally ready, everyone ate too much (what else is new, right?), and we talked, and basically had an enjoyable time.

After dinner, as I started clearing the table, M.H. started doing the dishes. At first, I thought she was only going to do a few, but the next thing I knew, the only thing left was the roaster pan, which was left to soak in the sink. Everything else had been cleaned!

After my daughter and granddaughter left, I thought about the first Thanksgiving they were back in Florida. So much has changed over the years.

No matter the holiday, there are always memories for all of us, I thought, as I got out the boxes of Christmas cards to start addressing (another tradition - starting the cards on Thanksgiving evening). Hope your day was good...

The More Things Change...

I've been doing a bit of thinking lately about how much things change, and not just the little things, either. October does that for me, puts me in a reminiscent-type frame of mind.

As far as the big/little things are, what might be a little thing to one person can be a big thing for someone else. If you don't see someone for a while, it might (or might not) be a big thing. But if that person has died, it's definitely a much bigger thing for that person, and his or her family. I'm thinking my friend Kevin. While I hadn't seen or spoken with him in several years, and while it might have been a small thing in the grand scheme of the world, it was still sort-of a big thing for us (my family and me), and definitely a much bigger thing for him and what's left of his family.

There were reasons we hadn't spoken for a while, but that's neither here nor there. I figured we had known each other for several decades. He's also the very last person I knew from when we both drove cab whom I had had even the slightest contact with, so with his death, it's like an entire chapter of my life is closed.

My sons and I have lived in the same house in what seems like forever. While some of the neighbors are the same ones who lived in the neighborhood when we moved in, the majority have moved. I can point to a house, and remember that the guy who drove a race car on the local circuit and worked on the car on weekends lived there, then sold the house to S. and C., who had their twins while they lived there, who then sold it to B., who...Well, you get the idea. And while some of the change, no matter how minor, is understandable and do-able, some of it can be almost disconcerting.

I used to walk/run for years. It's easy enough exercise: you put on your shorts and a t-shirt, sneakers, and head out the door, work up a sweat, then come home and get on with your day. I even blogged about it for a while.

I'm trying to get back into it, though I haven't done it near as much as I used to. When one hasn't exercised for a while, it takes time to ease back into.

For a while, my walks included bringing Osha along. (I've posted about Osha here in the past, including "A Tail of Two Cats (and a Dog and another Cat.") She was a sweetheart; it was tough when she passed.

Osha





When I wasn't walking Osha, I'd pass by a nearby stable and house on maybe 10 acres or so of land. For a while, there were quite a few horses stabled there. Then, slowly, the numbers dwindled until there was only one horse, a graying old mare named Smoky.



She would frequently be grazing in the middle of one field. One morning, I brought along a carrot, and managed to get her to come over to the fence, where she received the carrot for her troubles.

"Don't forget to bring a carrot for the horse," Paul would tell me when I'd start lacing up the sneakers. It even got to the point where Paul would ask if we had carrots whenever we'd go to the store.

Finally, the stable started filling up with horses, which made the scenery nicer during my run. (Smoky was still the only horse who got carrots, though.)













Maybe two years ago, I noticed there were no longer any horses at the stable. Smoky had died, according to one of the old men who worked at the stable. And then, the house started looking rough. The city bought it when the renter could no longer afford it, and the owner couldn't sell it. The house got demolished and slowly, the stable started falling apart. It was a little disheartening.

Another change, though I've posted it here once or twice: Paul has passed, as have numerous family members.

Paul



A friend rented our spare room for a short while, years before he quit driving cab, before his health took a dive. Family members were here, then moved; jobs, gotten and lost; scenery changes.

Thank goodness for memories...