Time to Visit Ukraine: The Disneyland of Eastern Europe

Map brazenly stolen from Wikipedia
(in the fine Ukrainian tradition)

Like most Americans, you’ve probably been asking yourself this question: “Isn’t it time I vacation in Ukraine?”  If so, you can’t afford to delay.  I am warning you about this because I was recently informed (this is EXTREMELY TRUE) that the name of the Ukrainian national anthem is (again, I swear this is true – look it up), “The Glory and the Will of Ukraine Have Not Yet Died.”  To be clear, Ukraine is announcing that it is dying – AND the Ukrainians are apparently quite proud of the fact, but it’s dying nonetheless.  But…, “Not Yet.”  So reserve your plane ticket pronto.

And while you’re at it, order some Ukrainian currency from your bank.  The counterpart to our dollar is the Ukrainian “hryvnia.”  (This is pronounced “hryvnia.”)  The current exchange rate is one US dollar to 24.62 hryvnias.  So a hryvnia is worth about four cents.  Hryvnias are subdivided into 100 parts called kopiyoks.  (The simple mathematical calculation to determine the US currency value of a single kopiyok is as follows: 1 hryvnia, divided by 100 kopiyoks, times 24. 62 = Zero. Therefore, mathematically speaking, kopiyoks have no value.) Practically speaking, Ukrainians use 50-pound bags of kopiyoks as doorstops.  In fact, a common “witty” retort in Ukraine is, “I don’t give a kopiyok.

Another reason to visit Ukraine is its rich heritage of intricate, artistic design.  This history of combining rich color with beautiful, complex designs is most prominently displayed by the dazzling intricacy of the Ukrainian national flag. Here it is –

Yet another good reason to visit (if you even need one), is that Russia has been gobbling up Ukrainian territory like a fat guy swallowing a pizza.  They’ve already grabbed an area called the “Crimea.”  (This is the peninsula sticking off the bottom part of the map.)  Ukrainians refer to the Crimea as, “The Florida of the Ukraine.”

So, start booking those Airbnb’s and reserving those tables at the hot spots in Kyiv and Poltava.  Because while “The Glory and the Will of Ukraine Have Not Yet Died,” the Russian clock is ticking.  If you want to visit Ukraine while it still has its “Glory and Will,” now’s the time to stuff a few hundred thousand hryvnias in your pocket and make your move.

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Quitters Never Win

There are times when we must admit we’ve failed.  For me, one of those times is now.  I have failed.  I need to admit it.  I’m sure you’ve already guessed my great defeat, but I’ll say it anyway. –

My recent campaign to promote chain smoking has failed.  In fact, I’m not aware of a single, solitary person who has taken so much as a puff as a result of my efforts.  If you don’t recall my campaign, here is the link –

The saddest part is that I feel like I’m letting Vince Lombardi down.  You might be familiar with Vince’s famous quote:

“Winners never quit, and quitters never win.”

This is especially painful because Vince loved a good cigarette.  Here he is sucking on a fresh butt –

Football: Closeup of Green Bay Packers head coach Vince Lombardi smoking cigarette on sidelines during game vs Chicago Bears at City Stadium. Green Bay, WI 9/15/1963 CREDIT: Neil Leifer (Photo by Neil Leifer /Sports Illustrated via Getty Images) (Set Number: X9486 )

Frankly, looking at this picture I stole from Getty Images gives me a second wind.  A smoky, hazy wind, yes, but a second wind nonetheless.  I just now starting to feel the strength to dig deep, to push forward, to persevere.  I can hear Chuck Yeager in my ear whispering HIS famous quote:

“You do what you can for as long as you can, and when you finally can’t, you do the next best thing. You back up but you don’t give up.”

Can I really abandon my mission to promote the health benefits of chain smoking?  Especially now, with all the young folks starting to “vape.”  Vape!  It’s so dangerous.  Listen people, and listen well: Unlike cigarettes, there are no health benefits to vaping! 

That’s it.  I am NOT going to give up!  I am going to embrace yet another Vince Lombardi quote:

“It’s not whether you get knocked down, it’s whether you get up.”

Yes, my chain-smoking campaign has been knocked down.  But I’m going to pick it up, dust it off, and move forward.  The medical benefits are too great to ignore. In the spirit of the great Vince Lombardi, my new campaign slogan will be:

“It’s not whether you get knocked down, it’s whether you light up.”

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Shared Hospital Rooms? Is it 1953 And No One Told Me?

Nothing says modern medicine like listening to someone on the other side of a shared hospital room take a dump.  Shared hospital room?  Two patients to a room? Really?  Is it 1953 and no one told me? The only thing better than listening to the doctor tell you about your ailment, is enjoying the intimate details of the stranger lying six inches away from you.  Thank goodness for that micro-thin plastic curtain providing you with the same level of privacy as the average Folsom Prison inmate.  You know, with the open toilet next to the bunkbeds?

Maybe I shouldn’t be complaining.  Whenever we see a news story of Ebola patients lined up like cord wood inside a Ugandan “hospital,” there isn’t a curtain in sight.  Those folks would probably love a curtain.  On-the-other-hand, I’m a fat, spoiled American, so I’ll resume my rant. 

It’s bad enough that you’re in the hospital.  Is it imperative that in addition to the physical suffering, the hospital heaps on the psychological pain of a shared room?  Hey, maybe so.  I’m not a trained physician.  Yes, I do use WebMD on a regular basis to diagnosis and treat myself and those unfortunate enough to be near me, but am I a BOARD certified medical doctor?  No, not exactly. (If you want to get all technical about it.)

There are, of course, federal regulations concerning shared hospital rooms, and most hospitals attempt to comply.  Currently, federal law requires that all hospitals that accept federal funding must have at least one private room for every 43,853 shared rooms.

Obviously, our system needs to improve.  There is one change the US medical system could make that would immediately improve its quality of care.   This would be to adopt the most defining aspect of the British medical system.  I am referring to the fact that the British do not use the article “the” before saying the word “hospital.”  So, while we Americans might say, “We took little Suzie to the hospital,” the more enlighten British simply say, “We took little Suzie to hospital.” 

In fact, I think I’ll implement this myself right now.  Here is goes –

Instead of complaining that, “I am not looking forward to visiting my Uncle Bob in the shared room at the hospital,” I will complain that, “I am not looking forward to visiting my Uncle Bob in the shared room at hospital.”  Wow!  I feel better already.

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Finally, A Green New Deal Even AAA Can Support

I am a vocal advocate for pedestrian rights.  I especially support strong pedestrian rights laws.  Of course, this is only when I’m walking.  When I’m driving, people who make me stomp on my brakes as they exercise their “rights” irritate me a little.  And by “irritate me a little,” I mean I’d like to run them over.  Just kidding!  I would never think of doing such a thing.  I really only want to nick them with my bumper. 

Let me be clear, when I complain about having to stomp on my brakes for pedestrians, I am NOT concerned about wasting my money on the gas it takes to accelerate back up to speed.  I am only concerned about climate change.   

Two blocks from my office is the major thoroughfare of Oak Street.  A couple of years ago, the city installed a well-marked crosswalk at Park and Oak.  Here it is –

As you see, there is no stoplight, or even a flashing yellow light, only the lines painted on the street.  Just one block away is the intersection of 8th and Oak.  It is what’s called a “controlled intersection.”  Lights, Walk signals – the whole shebang.  You can see it just ahead –

If you are heading down Oak and see a green light just ahead, of course, you’re trying to make it.  But not so fast, Bucko!  If just one jaunty pedestrian steps out on the crosswalk at Park, all the drivers have to slam on their brakes and wait for His or Her Highness to finish their (slow) crossing.  What kind of a megalomaniac would step out in front of two lanes of cars trying to make the green light?  Well, me.  Look, I’m not saying I do this all the time, but it happens.  For example, when I walked over to take pictures for this story, I waited for the traffic to pass before I stepped onto the crosswalk.  But on the way back, I embraced my “pedestrians are better people than drivers” attitude and stepped right out onto the crosswalk.  Ten to 12 cars hit their brakes. 

I have, however, reflected on my ways.  I now believe that laws that give pedestrians the right-of-way at crosswalks, causing countless drivers to hit the brakes, are an injustice – to my wallet. 

So, here’s my Green New Deal.  I’m sure we can all agree that we must do everything in our power to reduce greenhouse gases.  Preventing the burning of fossil fuels to accelerate after coming to a complete stop is one of them. Our lawmakers must immediately repeal the law that gives pedestrians the right-of-way at crosswalks.  We must do it for the planet.  We must do it for our children.  And we must do it for my wallet. 

______________________________________

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The Secret Life of Oliver the Cat

Cats come in many varieties.  Among them are Persian cats, Munchkin cats, and Siamese cats.  I have a rare breed of cat.  It’s called an Alarm cat.  My Alarm cat goes off at 5:30 a.m.    And by “goes off,” I mean begins meowing quietly just outside our bedroom door every three seconds.  He then gradually increases his volume to a level just above that of the average NASA rocket launch.  Simultaneously with reaching his crescendo (I swear I am not making this up), he starts slapping the door with his paw.  I put my head under the covers and try to ignore him until I’m afraid he’ll wake the neighbors.

There are many reasons people love cats.  They’re playful.  They’re mischievous.  And, of course, they tear our upholstery to shreds. 

Oliver the Cat is no exception.  He too enjoys playing.  His favorite game is called, “Wait for the People to Leave And Knock Over All the Vases.”  Of course, this is only when he can find the time.

Here is Oliver’s demanding schedule (and by “demanding,” I mean that he does a lot of demanding) –

Wait for me to get up and then demand that I feed him his breakfast immediately.  We always keep dry food available for him but only give him canned food in the morning and evening.

Next, wait for my wife to get up, pretend he hasn’t eaten, and then demand that she feed him breakfast immediately.

(I’m embarrassed to tell you how long Oliver pulled this scam.  His owners, sadly, are not the sharpest knives in the drawer.)

It is then time for him to demand that we let out, so he can go across the street to Neighbor Jim’s house.  Once at Neighbor Jim’s house, he lies about the porch and generally acts like he owns the place – something akin to his County Estate.  So far, Neighbor Jim has been a good sport.  But I’m pretty sure the clock is ticking. 

The remainder of the Oliver’s day is spent either meowing loudly to be let back in, or, approximately 30 seconds after coming back in, following us around the house meowing at the decibel level of an air raid siren demanding to be let out again.

We love Oliver, but having an Alarm cat is challenging.  My only hope for relief is that Oliver doesn’t understand Daylight Savings Time.  I can’t wait to “Fall Back.” 

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Who Are These People Who Park Outside The Lines?

I’m not saying that parking outside the lines should be a crime.  That would be crazy.  I’m just saying that, at a minimum, we should eat these people.  After all, it costs over $40,000 a year to incarcerate someone. 

If you’re a “softy,” and eating these people seems too extreme, there are other cost effective options.

Public shaming.

This is where the judge makes the person wear a sign around his neck exclaiming his sin.  It could say something like, “I Park Outside the Lines,” or, perhaps, more appropriately, “I Park Outside the Lines – And I Should be Eaten.”

“The Stocks.”

This option has, historically speaking, always been a crowd pleaser.  This is where you lock someone’s head and hands into the holes of one of those wooden contraptions.  The guy ends up looking like a target at a state fair carnival.  The added benefit is that he’s bent over at a 90 degree angle with his posterior sticking up in the air.  Of course, we would put a basket of complimentary eggs nearby. 

Caning.

This punishment is all the rage in Singapore.  Some of us remember the American kid charged vandalism who got caned.  You might remember his mother running around doing a media blitz trying to rally “civilized” countries to persuade the Singaporean (fun word to say out loud) government not to cane the little miscreant.  I remember thinking that if I were that kid, I’d tell my mother to clam up and let me take the beating, so I could preserve at least an ounce of dignity.  In the end, the kid got the stick (four whacks).  If we settled on caning as the punishment for parking outside the lines, then I think we should use a car antenna as the “cane.”  Whipping one of these knuckleheads with a car antenna just seems Zen, or maybe I’m thinking of “feng shui.” 

But even though I’ve felt obligated to jot off a list of other cost effective alternatives, let’s not completely rule out eating these people.  We should definitely keep that option on the table.  And by “keep that option on the table,” I mean, keep these idiots ON the table.  You’ve seen those roasted pigs with the apple in the mouth?  I’m not sure what the flavor profile would be, but hey, everything goes down smoothly with a little ranch dressing.

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How to Kill Your Family and Look Good Doing It

I recently returned from a family vacation to Hawaii, otherwise known as “the scene of the crime.”  Let me state this emphatically: It was not my original intent to kill my family.  However, and this is a VERY important point, I did not ACTUALLY kill them.  I just ALMOST killed them.

I used the AllTrails app on my iPhone to find a hiking trail near our Airbnb.  One looked great.  It was called the Hanauma Bay Death Trail.  No, that wasn’t it’s official name.  It’s actual name was the Hanauma Bay Ridge Trail, but I think the word “Ridge,” in place of the far more accurate “Death,” was a typographical error.

The first sign this hike was a mistake was when I Googled the name of the trail.  A news story popped up that said the hike was illegal.  Here is the headline –

Here is the meat of the news story –

An illegal Hawaiian hike?  Dare I risk it?  OF COURSE! Me at the water cooler after my vacation:

Boring co-worker, “What did you do on your vacation?” 

Me, “Oh, nothing much.  You know.  The usual…We just went on an EXTREMELY ILLEGAL tropical hike!”    

The second sign this hike wasn’t a good idea was literally a sign, or more specifically, TWO signs.  A “No Trespassing” sign posted on each side of a tourist hanging dead from a nearby tree – just kidding about the dead tourist – but NOT about the two signs or the LOCKED GATE blocking the entrance to the trail –

But, much like a naive character in a horror movie who follows a mysterious trail of blood down into the basement to find out where all the screaming is coming from, I led my family forward. 

So under the gate we went.

The AllTrails app is super easy to use.  You just keep your blue location dot on the red line marking the trail.  Which, in this case, I stupidly did.  Here is the overview of the trail –

The trail began friendly enough –

A neatly paved trail gradually going up the rim of the volcanic crater which created one of Hawaii’s most popular tourist destinations, Hanauma Bay Nature Preserve.

Here is the bay side from the top –

Once past the summit, the red line continued off the paved trail and down an embankment. (This image fails to adequately show how incredibly steep it is.) –

This might has seemed odd to a hiker less experienced than myself, but not me.  I was committed to following the red line, as they say, … even if it killed me.

As I led my family toward certain death, I did so with absolute confidence.  Down we marched like lemmings toward a shear drop-off above jagged rocks hundreds of yards below.  (In all fairness to AllTrails, the red line did not actually lead off the edge – there was at least a three millimeter “safety buffer.”)

I apologize for not having any photographs of the “ledge of death.”  At the moment, I was occupied hanging on by my butt cheeks to the slippery volcanic soil and screaming for everyone to stay back. 

In all fairness to me, I was actually far more likely to have killed myself than anyone else.  By the time we realized that the red line was leading us into oblivion, we had skittered several hundred yards down a steep embankment of loose sandy soil.  A steep embankment which we then and to climb back up

I was by far the worst physically fit.  If we were on Survivor, I would’ve been the first voted off the island.  In fact, they might have eaten me. 

I learned two things from this Extremely memorable experience:

1. Never trust the instructions on a free app.

2. At the very least, someone should have posted no trespassing signs and locked the gate. 

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Why You Should Start Smoking Cigarettes Immediately

Medical professionals agree that if you want to be healthy, you need to do three things.  First, eat right.  Second, exercise.  And third, chain smoke.  Doctors recommend a bare minimum of two packs a day. 

If you think I’m making this up, you’re wrong.  It’s based on scientific research.  Doctors have known about the benefits of smoking since the late 1800’s.  And this is especially true for those suffering from asthma.  Take a look at this Scientific ad, if you don’t believe me –

Please note the warning at the bottom of the ad: “Not Recommended For Children Under 6.”  This is an important clarification – Children under six CAN smoke – it’s just not recommended. 

And the benefits of cigarettes don’t stop there.  They’re also good for digestion –

The more accurate term for tobacco cigarettes is “cigarette medicine.”  If used properly, and with a sufficient dosage, they can help you live to 100 –

This is probably why, “More Doctors smoke Camels.”

If you’re not so concerned with longevity, and more concerned about your dental health, you should ask your dentist which brand of cigarette medicine he recommends.  Your dentist may have very strong feelings on the subject.  Here’s one who does –

If you’re concerned about any possible side effects of cigarette medicine, don’t be.  However, if you’re one of those pointed-headed geeks who likes to do their own research before starting a new medical regiment, consider this trusted scientific literature –

Now, I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking, ‘Wait a minute.  Hasn’t there been more recent scientific research that questions the health benefits of smoking?”

I’m going to be perfectly honest with you.  Because the last thing I want to do is mislead you.  The answer is, “No.”

You’re probably thinking about that group of “fringe” scientists.  Those wacky guys who claimed that we actually landed a man on the moon in 1968.  Here is an example of their trumped-up “proof” –

Notice how they cleverly added the fake footprints in the foreground to make it look like the astro-NOT was actually walking around?  This picture was actually taken on the back lot of Paramount Studios (where they also filmed the “live” television version).  It was all connected to Nixon and his Watergate Cover-up.  (Truth be told, it’s the real reason Nixon had to resign.) 

But back to the health benefits of smoking.

I’m not saying that smoking cigarettes is the answer to MOST of your health concerns.  I’m saying that smoking is the answer to ALL your health concerns.  At least if you smoke a minimum of two packs a day. 

I’ll leave you with this one last piece of medical advice: Remember to only smoke “fresh” cigarettes –

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Why You Should Cool Your Bananas

An existential threat looms in our near future.  The media relentlessly reminds us of it, and whether you wake up worrying about it each day, or turn a blind eye, we have an out-of-control freight train headed directly our way.  You know what I’m talking about, but I’ll say it – We have a Banana Crisis. 

Scientists tell us that bananas are being ravaged by an uncontrollable disease called Black Sigatoka.  I know it sounds like a Jamaican reggae band, but it’s the real name of this banana disease – I swear.  (Google it if you don’t believe me.) 

Can we even imagine living in a banana-less world?

The good news is that banana scientists are adamant that we will ALWAYS have bananas – just not the normal kind. 

Four hundred million Earthly people eat 30 BILLION dollars of bananas every year.  Now – THAT’S A LOT OF BANANAS!  But here’s the thing.  Most people eat normal bananas.  Here are normal bananas –

Normal bananas are long, yellow, and extremely delicious.  We grew up eating normal bananas. In fact, normal bananas even costarred in one of our favorite childhood books – Curious George.  There is only one bad thing about these bananas.  They turn brown faster than Joey Chestnut can swallow a hotdog.

BUT banana scientists tell us that there are many other varieties of bananas.  Here is an example –

Many of these unpopular bananas are called “plantains.”  “Plantain,” is the Latin word for “Weird.”  Plantains are strange green bananas.  The main difference in the taste between plantains and normal bananas is that they cost their weight in gold.

Of course, our favorite banana is the Chiquita banana.  Chiquita is Brazilian for “normal.”  We grew up eating normal bananas, and that’s the way God fearing pro-banana Americans want to keep it.Side note:  I started searching for a vintage Chiquita banana advertisement and came across another vintage ad that has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with bananas.  However, as your primary source of scientific information, I felt a duty to immediately bring it to your Medical attention.  Here it is –

So if you learn anything from this story about the banana crisis, learn that if you or anyone you care about gets pregnant, start smoking Nico Time brand cigarettes immediately.  Your baby’s life depends on it.

Now back to our regularly scheduled banana crisis –

As I said.  I simply cannot imagine living in a banana-less world.  So, I’m “thinking globally, and acting locally.”  I’m planting a Chiquita Banana tree in my front yard.  If we’re lucky, and Global Warming keeps up its rapid pace, I’ll be up to my armpits in fresh bananas.

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Hay Fever – A Love Story

Another Oregon Willamette Valley hay fever season has passed.  And I have finally emerged from my HEPA air-filtered bunker in a low crouch and squinted up into the sunlight.  Over the past three months, as I sat in air-conditioned darkness, I had several thoughts I’d like to share. 

Here are the facts.  Ninety-nine percent of the world’s grass seed is grown in Oregon’s Willamette Valley.  The valley’s winds typically blow from north to south.  I live in Eugene.  Eugene sits at the very southern tip of the Willamette Valley.  The average pollen count that irritates most people (“Very high”) is 200+.  As a hay fever sufferer, luckily for me, the pollen count in Eugene only ever exceeds 500.  With these numbers in mind, we can utilize a well-accepted mathematical equation to find the numerical “misery index.” Thus, we divide X (200) by Y (500), giving us the scientific result of: “I am an idiot.”  I honestly can’t believe I live here.

On the bright side, the pollen season only lasts three months.  And they’re not the fun-filled soggy fall months or the keister-puckering winter months.  I am free to venture outside anytime during these periods.  It’s only when the sun has the temerity to show its face and the temperature breaches 70 degrees that I have to burrow into a dark space. 

Setting aside my personal trauma for a moment, I must note that hayfever has gotten a raw deal on the public relations front.  Wall-to-wall negative press.  The media never mentions hay fever’s positive attributes – The pleasure of an afternoon nap brought on by the dopey side effect of an antihistamine.  Or, the PERFECT excuse for not mowing the lawn.

Lucky for me I know a physician who specializes in allergies – an “Allergist.”  For the purposes of this column I will refer to him as “Jason,” because his name is Jason Friesen.  (That’s Dr. Jason Friesen M.D. to commoners like you who do not know an allergist.)

Last year during a conversation (if you call my whining to him about my hay fever and him suffering through my rant a “conversation”), I mentioned the two medications I was going to take the next year to battle my affliction.  Jason mentioned that I should start taking one of them early, because it took awhile for it to build up in the system.  Of course, I was GLUED to his advice.  This was gold.  Nectar from the sky.  AND with no evil CO-PAY. 

Nine months later I’ve raided the Costco pharmacy, and I am fully stocked:  A bottle of Claritin the size of an oil drum and half a dozen bottles of Flonase nasal spray.

A full thirty days before pollen season, I dutifully began taking a Claritin pill every morning with my multivitamin.

The next time I saw Jason, pollen season was about to hit.  I told him that I followed his advice, and I was WAY ahead of the game.  I’d been taking Claritin every day for a month.  This is when Jason told me that I was an idiot.  (But he didn’t say it like that.  He said it in the nice doctor way.)  He told me that he said to start the Flonase ahead of time.  The Claritin acts immediately.   

So what I’m trying to say is that I’m really, REALLY, ready for pollen season next year.  I’ll consider last season, using football parlance, a “rebuilding year.” 

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