"What-the-heck?"

I must be living right -- that's what my mom says when something goes right instead of wrong.

This morning I was back-ended by another vehicle. It was more than a tap, and it was in the middle of the morning commute. I looked at my clock, looked at the fellow behind me, and made a snap decision. I wasn't going to stop.

Both our cars were still running, traffic was moving again, and there was nowhere to pull over to examine the damage. I figured as long as my car was still running, the damage couldn't be too bad. I was low on gas, short on time, and I just didn't want to be bothered.

The road was frosty, and I suspect he wasn't paying attention. But it wasn't big enough to need the cops and a traffic report and a form for my insurance company. At least I was hoping that was the case.

I made it to work on time, and examined my back bumper when I stopped in the parking lot. I have a trailer hitch on my Kia Sorento, and I think that must have been what stopped the fellow behind me. I didn't see any damage to my bumper. The tap probably would have cracked the fiberglass if he hadn't hit the hitch first.

I'll have HighGuy look at it closer when I get home tonight. He can see if the trailer hitch got pushed back or anything. But in the meantime, I think I must be living right.

Posted by: HOMD on 3/17/2010 at 9:13 AM | Comments (0) | Permalink

Tags: memoir

"Still Life With Crows"

I just finished reading "Still Life With Crows" by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child last night. Some of it was while I was bowling. Yep, it was that good. I just could not put it down during the last chapters.

Set in Medicine Creek, Kansas, the novel features Special Agent Pendergast. He's a real strange cookie. At first I was picturing the tall geek from "Big Bang Theory," but then I realized he needs a Southern accent since he's from New Orleans.

Oh, well, no matter how I pictured him, Pendergast is featured in a number of novels by Preston and Child; this one is number 4.

Main character Pendergast goes to Kansas on vacation and steps into the middle of a murder case. A woman is found dead in the middle of a cornfield with dead crows spitted on really old arrows. The whole town starts talking about an old battle with Indians and a curse put on the ground by an old settler.

This plot of land just happens to be in the middle of a dispute over whether genetically-modified corn will be tested by a group from the university. Some see it as a threat to their own cornfields, while others see it as a gold mine which could bolster the town's flagging economy.

And then other animals and people show up dead and mutilated. The whole town thinks they have a serial killer on their hands. Some think he's linked to the old Indian battle, while others think it has to do with the university. Still others think it's Pendergast himself.

Pendergast chooses a young woman, Corrie, to serve as his driver and "tour guide." What he really wants to know is all the town gossip. And who better than someone who has been already marginalized by the town?

Sheriff Hazen is a bit of a stereotype -- small-town cop who deals mostly with vandalism and barking dogs. He doesn't like Pendergast's meddling -- especially when he's not there officially. Pendergast is actually on vacation!

All the clues lead to the cave -- a tourist spot operated by a little old lady who also runs a bed-and-breakfast where Pendergast is obligated to stay. So now we have Corrie, Pendergast, Sheriff Hazen, plus a posse of other law enforcement guys, and the murderer blundering about in the black cave.

Who will survive? It's just like any other horror movie in which you know certain characters will be killed off, one by one. That's what kept me reading between turns at the bowling alley. And I'm sure it would have kept me up until 5 a.m.

"Still Life With Crows" -- if you like creepy, gruesome novels, look for it. It's not new, so you'll have to go with Amazon.com or your local library.

Posted by: HOMD on 3/11/2010 at 10:14 AM | Comments (1) | Permalink

Tags: book review

Mental Illness

I pause today to talk about mental illness. I have an acquaintance who clearly doesn't understand it. She just doesn't "get it."

In my lifetime, I've learned a lot about mental illness. It's a real medical condition -- it's not something you've brought upon yourself or "all in your head." There are enzymes and chemicals that are lacking or not working in the brains of some people, and there are real symptoms.

Sometimes the symptoms are easily seen. A person hears voices, has hallucinations, or does strange things to compensate. In the case of my aunt, she was hospitalized before they diagnosed her with bipolar disorder. At that time, they called it manic-depressive. She's been on medication for it for years, and functions well in the world.

Manic-depressive or bipolar disorder is basically the same thing. The person has high highs and low lows. Highs can be marked by compulsive talking or buying extravagant gifts for other people when you don't have the money. Lows are seen as too much time sleeping, feelings of self-loathing, self-destructive behaviors.

Other times, the symptoms are more vague, more elusive. Maybe you're irritable, cranky, blow up at your best friend or partner for little picky things. Maybe you're drinking too much, looking forward to that weekend of booze a little too much. Maybe you get angry with yourself for minor things. Maybe you cry at the drop of a hat.

Maybe you're doing something self-destructive -- eating too much or not enough, or eating food you know is going to "back-fire." Maybe you're looking at the glass half-empty and feeling worthless. You don't want to shower in the morning; you just want to stay in bed all day. You have no hope about the future.

Mental illness is like asthma or diabetes. Some people have it really bad, while others have a "lighter" case of the same condition. And the medication level is adjusted for those folks. I take a low-dose of an antidepressant to help me sleep at night. I tried the higher dose, and I didn't like how I felt. (I also have an inhaler for asthma, and only take it when I need it.)

I've tried other anti-depressants, too. I knew that it was time because I have seen what happens when it's not treated. My father was depressed -- he'd been diagnosed with it, and given medication. Unfortunately, he didn't like taking his medication. He was probably not happy with the side-effects and unwilling to try another medication.

It's my father's sister who has bipolar disorder. My daughter has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, too, and she has found a good doctor and a counselor that both help her. She knows better than to not take her medication, and she's very open about explaining her condition to others.

I've known other people who are probably clinically depressed, but they've never had it diagnosed, and they self-medicate with alcohol. Alcohol isn't the answer. It just deadens the pain of depression, and can lead to more depression.

Mental illness -- like a lot of other conditions -- can run in families. So does diabetes, cancer and asthma. We take insulin for diabetes, get cancer screenings to watch for cancer, and have inhalers for asthma. So, it's normal to take medication or seek other treatment for mental illness.

One of the hardest things I've ever had to do is talk to my doctor about trying medication for depression, but it was one of the most wise things I've done. It's not good to suffer, and it's stupid to have a medical condition and not treat it.

Some people have found that visiting with a counselor is enough. Others need more. I've tried some medications, and I'm back to my small dose that I take just before bedtime. I take it along with medication for allergies and medication for heartburn. And it works for me.

Admitting you might have a mental illness isn't an immediate trip to the "loony bin." It means that the doctor will work with you to find the right diagnosis and the right treatment. If your doctor is good, he or she will rule out other things -- thyroid trouble, for one. And it just might mean a medication. And there's nothing wrong with that.

Posted by: HOMD on 3/11/2010 at 8:59 AM | Comments (1) | Permalink

Walking

I was winded when I got back from my walk -- another sign of how out-of-shape I am. And another reason to keep going. So far, I'm walking down one stretch of road and back -- at some point, I might get to walk farther as I pick up the pace.

I've started (OK, today's only Day 2) walking during my lunch hour. An hour is really too long for me for lunch, unless I have a lunch date at a restaurant, so I've begun to bring a book along with my leftovers from last night's supper.

What I notice is that I'm not dragging by 4 p.m. I'm also not yawning by 2 p.m. This way I can go home and sit in my recliner and watch TV all night without feeling like a slug -- and feeling guilty for not exercising more.

I really came by this idea for lack of another idea. It's like this: When I take my lunch break in the breakroom, all is fine for the first 45 minutes. It's quiet; I have the place all to myself. No one has to watch me spill food on my blouse.

For the last 15 minutes, however, a co-worker comes in for his lunch break, smelling of the cigarette he just finished (and all the other cigarettes he just finished -- for the past 40 years). I swear, he travels in a cloud of smoke. And I have noticed that it bothers me -- a lot.

So, when he comes in, I take off for my walk. It's a win-win situation. He gets the whole table to himself; and I get a little exercise.

Posted by: HOMD on 3/9/2010 at 4:35 PM | Comments (2) | Permalink

Tags: walking memoir

"First Family"

At first glance, I wasn't sure if I'd read "First Family" by David Baldacci already. But then I saw it on the racks at Wal-Mart and was sure I hadn't read it before. Most of the books I read aren't that new, unless I've borrowed them from the library.

I've started reading Baldacci's novels, and they're all good, but I'm getting to the point where one style and one voice blends into the next one. By another author. They're all starting to sound the same. The reason I thought I'd already read "First Family" is a novel entitled, "First Daughter," by Eric Van Lustbader. In that novel, the president's daughter is kidnapped.

In "First Family," the president's niece has been kidnapped. Baldacci keeps the pace going, introducing new characters slowly enough that a reader can keep them straight. At first the relationships are the hard part. The niece is the daughter of the president's wife's brother.

Or is she? The girl's mother is murdered during the kidnapping, and her autopsy reveals that she's only had two children by C-section. So who is Willa's mother?

A better question is "Who is Sam Quarry?" He's the mastermind behind the kidnapping, and is reluctant to the kill the child or another woman that he's keeping prisoner in a well-constructed bunker in the side of a mountain. He wants the First Family to meet his demands and he will release their niece Willa.

And what is that mysterious house in the middle of nowhere that he built with equal care? It's surprising he would go to those lengths, since the family home that Quarry lives in is a down-at-the-heels mansion.

You just know that in the end all of these story lines are going to be tied up in a neat bundle, but even Baldacci has a few surprises. I won't ruin them for you. You'll have to run to Wal-Mart yourself and buy "First Family."

On my scale of 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. (10 p.m. for a so-so book that I can put down and go to sleep to 5 a.m. for a book that I couldn't put down) I give "First Family" a 2 a.m. rating. Yep, it's that good.

Posted by: HOMD on 3/8/2010 at 10:30 AM | Comments (0) | Permalink

Tags: book review