"TICKED OFF" about ALPHA GAL...This may save your life

 

                                              

                                                                 Lone Star Tick

                               Do you know about ALPHA GAL ?  

          And, no, it does not refer to a 'first lady'.

    Or do you know about the LONE STAR TICK?

If you have not heard of this potentially deadly allergy and the tick bite that can cause it, you are not alone.  Even many medical professionals have not yet learned of this rather new disease, first identified in 2002.   (For further information, search Alpha gal and Lone Star tick).

  Untreated Alpha Gal allergic reactions result in Anaphylaxis... an inability to breathe. When a clinical assistant in a medical office began experiencing AG symptoms, EMS personnel were called to transport her to a nearby hospital. The most obvious trigger for AG is eating any kind of mammalian meat. Forgoing dairy products is necessary for some AG people.  There are several subtle causes as well,  including medicines and foods that contain mammal byproducts such as gelatin in capsules.

   We became aware of this pest-borne allergy when my wife awoke at 2a.m. with severe hives, requiring a trip to the Emergency Room. In the ensuing years, many facets of our lives have changed. Since Covid we eat out only where there is outside dining but prior to that restaurants provided challenges beyond menu options (often very limited and at a risk of cross-contamination of salad ingredients). Food preparation needs to occur on a separate grill away from mammalian food.  Smell can sometimes precipitate an episode. Lingering at a restaurant with friends, we were near a large table of guests who had steaming mammal entrees. In time, Alpha Gal symptoms began.  Fortunately, she had appropriate medication.  Now we go nowhere without epipens. 

   But the prohibitions go on:                              .certain kinds of exercise can aggravate symptoms.    .the allergist at UNC-CH advised against wearing woolen garments.  My wife had recently purchased a long-sought-for woolen jacket. Never worn, it and all other woolen clothing were donated to a local benevolence.                                                             .prescription options can become limited. Methods of anesthetization must be consider prior to surgery and dental procedures. Pig heart valves, long a primary replacement in cardiac procedures, must be avoided.                                                                        .pet dandruff limits options for those who want  indoor pets.

   While there are no 'cures' for AG, precautions almost to hypervigilance are advised. Gratefully, some assistance for navigating the new terrain have begun to appear.  A local restaurant owner who left her business due to her AG later began a catering service featuring safe foods. AlphaGal Kitchen on the     web provides numerous recipe options.

     Tick season is near. If you have 'possums nearby, protect them as ticks are a part of their menu. Otherwise, take precautions.

    Satchel

 ('Thanks' to my wife who co-authored this post from her personal experiences.)   

 

    

BRACKET-OLOGY

 

                                                                        Reid

      Check your calendar, it's March.  For lots of people in the US, that signifies "Madness", at least of the basketball kind.  Do you have a favorite team? This year in our area, 3 high school teams made it to their State Championship games. However, the title eluded them all.

    I live in central North Carolina where there is a kind of year 'round mad-ness for basketball, given the proximity of several college and university teams with national prominence.  As a college freshman, I watched on tv the undefeated UNC Tarheels defeat Wilt Chamberlain and Kansas in triple overtime.  So intense was the play that one person in our state had a fatal heart attack watching the game. 

    Duke's presence in yet another NCAA tournament this year evoked my memory of a long ago athlete at that school telling a pep rally "I used to be arrogant but now I am humble and proud of it !"

   While my "career" was hardly stellar and my general interest has waned, I once upon a time enjoyed playing the game. I had not played high school varsity sports until my Junior year and spent most of that season sitting on the bench next to the coach. Sometimes that carried its own form of entertainment such as the night a guard on the visiting team was 'hot dogging' in front of our bench. Coach drawled, " Name , I would like to buy you for what you're worth and sell you for what you think you're worth." As I recall, we lost that game badly. Occasionally, I would get to play and went scoreless the entire season up  to the last game when I scored my 'all time high' of 18 points. The final score of our 77-27 win  is sealed away in some corner of my brain.

   The following year I was a starter but hardly a 'star'.  We did avenge the previous year's loss to Name's team with all our starters scoring in double digits. When we played the team from my previous school, I played respectably and when my former algebra teacher said to me after the game, "I didn't know that you could do that", I replied, "Neither did I!". Not much else of that season was memorable. Gratefully, I was a better baseball player.

   Two of my wife's great-nephews are outstanding high school athletes, especially in basketball and baseball.  Luke excels in both sports as well as track;  and this year Reid is opting to focus his energies on his basketball travel team. Their travel coach has had a colorful playing career, having once played with the Harlem Globetrotters. (Johnny coached at a nearby high school team this year. Last year that school had a lackluster season and his first year as coach this team posted a 29-5 record and played in the State championship game. They lost to a school that was also coached by a former Globetrotter.)

  This year,  Reid's consistent performance earned his selection to First Team Conference All Star team in his Sophomore season. His average per game statistics are impressive: 19.8 points, 10 rebounds, 3 steals, 55% field goal accuracy, 40% 3-point shot accuracy. His season totals were 496 points, 120 assists, 249 rebounds and 46 steals.  And, there is another most important attribute that does not show up in a statistical compilation : He is an overall "good guy".  We are proud of him---for his hard work and achievements and for who he is.

   When I told a friend of Reid's achievements, he wrote back, "I guess you are no longer the best basketball player in your extended family." No longer?  How about Never was !

   Satchel

"A month of Sundays . . ."

 

  How long is a "long time" ?  The English language expresses duration in several colorful idioms: 'a blue moon'; 'right smart while'; 'a dog's age'; 'a lifetime'; 'when pigs fly'; 'not in a coon's age'; and this one: 'A       MONTH OF  SUNDAYS'. Now that's a long time. One dictionary offered this definition : "A very long time; a period regarded as too long." Why that metaphor?  One suggestion focused on Sunday's  being a long, dreary time caused by various amusements not being allowed on that day. A movie with Rod Steiger, a novel by John Updike and a once popular song appropriated 'A Month of Sundays' as a title.

  Like many teens,  it seemed to 'take an eternity' to reach the magic age of 16 when a driver's license marked a rite of passage. When I was a child in the early1940's, December had days without number before Christmas arrived.

  This vast expanse of waiting came to mind  when I saw this Pogo comic that someone had posted on  Facebook :   (The dialogue boxes are a tad small but worth the read if you have an appreciation for Walt Kelly's Pogo-esque humor.  Also, try enlarging the view on your screen.)

   These denizens of the  Okeefenokee Swamp recognized the subjective nature of  time's duration, even though not using the phrase. In the last panel above, one critter asks "So how about 104 days for the month of DECEMBER ?" That's about how long it took for Christmas to arrive in my pre-adult years. Now another expression seems more apropos: Tempus fugit . . .  time flies.  It seems that we have just put away seasonal decorations and here we are bringing them down from the attic.  And around here this year, the pace has accelerated  with Spring temperatures in the 80's in February.

   Rumor has it that accumulating candles on one's birthday cakes has a direct effect the speed of time. I and several of my college friends have had or will celebrate 85 years in these months. With that, yet another phrase comes to mind  Carpe diem eloquently phrased by Robin Williams's  character in the movie Dead Poets Society, "Carpen diem. Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary."

   It's been a month of Sundays since I have heard better advice.

     Satchel

 

"What are them others put here for . . . ?"

 

                                          "It's a two way street"
           

  A church school teacher told her class, "Girls and boys, we were put here to help others."  After a moment of reflection, one 7 year old boy asked, "What were them 'others' put here for ?"

       Maybe she was trying to instill in those youngsters an awareness of the "Golden Rule". You know, treat other people in the same way you would want to be treated.  And that principle appears prominently in Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, and other major world religions as well as in Christianity. 

    A prominent bioethicist asserts that : "the foundational questions about ethics are about what we owe others, not just ourselves, not just our family and friends."  And, she concluded sadly  that "Americans do not agree about the duty to protect others, whether it's from a virus or gun violence."

    Her comments appeared in a recent New York Times column entitled "For Older Americans, the Pandemic is Not Over". Being right on the cusp of turning 85, I found grim statistics in that piece.  Last month (January 2023), "about three-quarters of Covid deaths have occurred in people over 65." Those 65 and over accounted for "about 90 percent of the nation's Covid deaths." 

    So, what about any responsibility "them others" who are at lower risk for Covid have for those at higher risks.  Regrettably, for many reasons, a high percentage of elders are not taking precautions for their own well-being.  Avoiding transmitting contagion rests on all of us.  

    Society has "opened up" with many pre-Covid activities resuming. Far from being hermits, many of us want to return to "normality" but the enduring risks mandate caution.  In that same article, a 67 year old Charlotte, N.C., woman who along with her husband recently experienced a particularly harsh Covid case explained their resumption of activities: "It's a risk I'm willing to take. I feel like I'm living life on my terms, doing the things  I want to do." I counted five first person pronouns : I and my.  There was no mention about whether they were exercising precautions for the sake of others, like wearing a mask.

    Remember Sinatra's boast "I did it my way" ? Runs counter to the old fashioned (some might say 'outdated') notion of 'commonwealth' . . . our mutual well-being. In another recent NYT article , David French maintained that "what we do for others is infinitely more rewarding than what we ask them to do for us."  Said another way, I am wearing my mask not only for me but also for you because we are still in this together.

    A man who recently lost his elderly father to Covid still encounters comments from strangers because he wears a mask in public pleads, "people just need to care about other people, man. That's my soapbox."

    Mine too !

         Satchel

   

HARBINGERS . . .

 GROUNDHOG FORESHADOW ?

HARBINGER noun . . . something that foreshadows a future event; something that gives an anticipatory sign of what is to come   

The mammalian weather prognosticator aka  "Weather Prophet Extraordinary", (among other titles), Punxsutawney Phil rendered his shadowy prophesy for this year.  When he left his burrow, he saw his  shadow and we are in for six more weeks
of Winter. Phil's batting average for accuracy over the past decade or so is a mediocre 40%.  That was in Pennsylvania and here's hoping that his jurisdiction does not extend to North Carolina where everything was gloomy and overcast. As it happened, there was no prediction from our  state's groundhog, Sir Walter Wallie. After several years of forecasting, he has          decided to retire.                                                        

         Winter around here has generally been 'mild', no snow, no ice, with few mornings of scraping car
windows.  Elsewhere in  the US, other kinds of weather  have been the norm.  Pictures of pre- Christmas monster snows in northern states and more recently ice-storms in the mid-west appeared frequently on tv. The calendar indicates about six more weeks before the equinox occurs at 21:25 (9:25 pm) on March 20 and Spring officially springs.  Even so, the myth of Phil's status as a harbinger of Spring's advent still holds sway for many.  This year that could mean bad news. There was a FB meme going around showing a female groundhog, Phil's ex-wife in Florida, who left him because he was allegedly
an habitual liar.               

Walking through our yard and a nearby vacant lot  last week, I spotted another kind of harbinger.  Remember the saying "If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind," ? Right in the midst of dormant bushes and trees, these beauties and those below foretold warmer, more colorful times :

Soon, the drab grayness will be replaced by a riot of   colors.

     Not only  does "Winter" occur as a calendar Season but for many it is a "season" of their heart, of their spirit, of their emotions.  Not surprisingly, harbingers of hope and relief are eagerly sought.  
Likely, these will not be found in the "shadows"; rather, more likely in either "bright spots" and sometimes in unexpected times and places like these flowers.

Satchel   

 

Bells and Whistles

 

       

    He called my computer "obsolete". . . the cursor had become unreliable.  So I 'chatted' on line with a support person and described the situation. When I told him the model number and year of purchase (2012),  he gave a couple of possible 'solutions' for my 'obsolete' model.  When I asked about bringing it  to a nearby retail store for repair by one of their 'geniuses', he broke the verdict clearly . . . they no longer service my model. 

  A reliable computer is a 'must' for my profession.  After researching model options, I selected the one seemingly best suited for my work and drove to the store.  The Associate who assisted me was very knowledgeable, helpful and patient with my less than eloquent tekky vocabulary.  And, sure enough, he confirmed that my selection did not have unnecessary "bells and whistles".

   Even so, my new computer has  more of those "bells and whistles" than I will ever use or need.  I decided to consult word-smiths (aka dictionaries) for some clues about the meaning of that cliche. In no particular order, here are some offerings: gadgetry, added features, ingenious device, frill, doodad, flashiness, adornment, jazziness, luxury.  Right now, I would just like to know how to send email.  On the 'obsolete' machine, my fingers inadvertently inserted an incorrect letter. Now I am unable to use the mail feature even after 'migrating' data to the new one  . Maybe one of the geniuses (geni ?) can correct that little detail.

   While I opted not to buy one of the pricier models, this one still came in at about half  of the cost of my first car, albeit that was in 1961.  Before the Sales Associate reached me, I had begun a chat with a young policeman perched in a corner and keeping an eye on activities.  Passing by him as I was leaving, I teased, "I have just bought a computer and need to rob a bank. Can you tell me which one has the least security so  that I can go there ?"  He laughed and said, "Get outta here !"  At least he didn't blow his whistle at me !

    Satchel

"The Sun'll Come up Tomorrow"

             

                                           "The sun'll come up Tomorrow" . . . Annie

                                                     

Was she just plain 'nuts', overly idealistic, maybe even a tad psychotic and greatly out of touch with 'reality'?  In what has become a kind of Seasonal ritual, watching the sunrise over the Atlantic for several mornings, I have decided that  Annie was on to something profound. December 21 was the year's shortest day or , if you prefer, the longest night of the year.  Now we begin the gradual movement towards the Summer's solstice.  In the meantime, the body feels the urge to feast on carbs ...aka, cookies, cakes, and other assorted baked goodies with the 3 plus or so pounds that  we average adding during the holidays.  Then often follow" Naps", the human variation of hibernation.

     Hibernation .  A dictionary calls it : "an adaptive process which is designed to protect individuals from the challenges of  winter time, particularly as it relates to energy  regulation".  Another source labeled the phenomenon as passing the  winter  "in a torpid or resting state",While we humans   do not  hibernate like other mammals, for various reasons our nervous  system transmits signals that cause people to indulge ravenous appetites and gain pounds resulting in lowered energy and sleepiness. As such, it isn't the same state as SAD ...Seasonal Affective Disorder, sometimes called "Winter Blues".

   "The Blues"  Is that term used  any longer other than as a musical genre ?  When someone is experiencing 'the blues', oldtimers might say that they were "down in the dumps".  In the last post, I noted that for many  this year's Christmas is "different" with a kind of  torpor or lethargy prevalent... a kind of emotional hibernation, perhaps.  

   Prolonged cold can kill, not only vegetation but people as well. So, too, can prolonged darkness.  And, for me, that is where Annie and her assertion enter.  Maybe it is akin to the Psalter's observation that while tears may mark the night, joy comes in the morning . . . the potential for a fresh start, kind of signal that there is more than just "right now". These recent mornings have also reminded me that 'not all sunrises are alike'.  When the recent cold blast swept in, clouds hid the multi-hues of brilliant light; then on Christmas Eve, I thought the sun's orb paused briefly on the horizon like a promise of Hope:

Recently I discovered a hymn that expresses that promise, New Every Morning is the Love:  " New Every Morning is the love

                 Our wakening and uprising prove,

                 sleep and darkness safely brought,

                 restored to life and power and thought.

    It now occurs to me that "morning" might just be a metaphor for Hope and not just a time on a clock.

    Good Morning ! to you .

       

            Satchel

   

"I'm not finding much Christmas spirit this year"

           "I'm not finding much Christmas spirit this year" my client said this week.  She suggested that such sentiment was not specific just for her; rather, she sensed a general malaise all around.  And she was one of several clients offering their version of the same sentiment. Now before dismissing these as "the perspectives of therapy clients who likely are already feeling anxious and/or depressed", consider that these are high functioning persons not disposed to a jaundiced view of the world. My subjective opinion says that there are fewer Christmas decorations displayed this year.  

   While everything and everyone is not "Humbug" or "Grinch-y" and "No, no, no !" has not totally displaced "Ho, ho, ho !", something seems, feels different for many this year.  "Naughty" children were once threatened with 'lumps of coal' in their stockings. Accordingly, in some quarters, there is a sense that we are all receiving a scuttle bucket full of coal this year.

    If this is a pervasive viewpoint, "WHY ?" is such the case this year ? A couple of years ago, Sean Dietrich published a collection of articles in a book entitled The Absolute Worst Christmas of All Time. Coming as it did at the conclusion of the first Covid year, the title likely captured the experience of  many.  But now, here we are two Christmases out from that horrendous year. Why now the less- than- enthusiasm that many are experiencing, regardless of formal religious identification or not ?  And, I acknowledge that I have but partial hunches about Causes and for that matter, Cures.

   Among the nominees for causation that I have heard: covid weariness; grief for what and who we have lost; a protracted political nastiness culminating in a recent mid-term election; war in Ukraine; economic uncertainties; diminished sense of safety in the face of mass shootings; loneliness and social isolation. In his novel Littlejohn, Howard Owen has a character lament that "no one should be made to endure Christmas within at least one  year of a personal catastrophe."  No doubt there are other  nominees.

    "Is there a balm in Gilead ?" to paraphrase an old spiritual. A long ago comedian often proclaimed, "Don't tell me your doubts. I have enough doubts of my own. Tell me something you believe in!" Or, you might call it HOPE (differing from 'Wishful Thinking') for something that transcends the immediate malaise. Not just, 'pie in the sky in the sweet bye and bye'. Instead, something that fortifies us to deal with the right now  without  giving way to despair.

   Today I read a post about Phillip Brooks, long ago Rector of Trinity Episcopal Church in Boston and later Bishop of Massachusetts.  His poem that became "O Little Town of Bethlehem" is still a perennial part of Christmas music. The man's faith embodied both contemplation and action. Two lines in that song have offered Hope in the lives of many: "The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee  tonight" referencing the Christ event; and, "O come to us, abide with us,  our Lord Emmanuel".  Many people have seen and experienced ugly &  hateful expressions of religion so much so that they are skeptical at best and downright dismissive at worst of the entire business,  whether Christian or otherwise.

   Something seems to be missing this year.  What do you think it is and what is needed ?

     Satchel

"What is your 'Password'"

 

   I just encountered the 'be-all words' of the digital world ! "Please enter your Password".  Well, the one that I remembered didn't provide the anticipated  entrance.  "To retrieve your password, please enter 'User Name' ". Struck out on that one also.  Found the correct answer for the 'mystery question'..."how many angels can dance on the head of a pin ?" Too many codes to remember and don't dare write and store them somewhere and better not use the same one for  every account !

   It seems that there is a malevolent species lurking for the unwary . . .  'hackers' and 'phishers'.  

It's because of these malevolent types that some sites have now added

another layer of security called 'double authentication'. DOUBLE !! 

There are those among us who find a challenge in remembering the initial key.  And while seeking to open an email just now from a health  care organization, I was greeted with this:  "Logging into your account has been temporarily blocked due to too many failed authentication attempts. For assistance, please contact this number (***-***-****)."

He used the wrong password 

      Friends tell me that their occupations now require 'encryption' of sensitive emails, especially those containing someone's PHI (another new acronym Personal Health Information), financial data, photographs, and other items "for your eyes only".  A former co-worker  related that he had grown so annoyed with one's platform's login procedures that he adopted the password  "PainNderBohunkus!" for transactions.

    A much more congenial "Password" has been a sporadically produced t.v. game show by that name. And, according to Wikipedia, there is a 2022 reiteration of that program.  Once upon a time (and maybe still so) there  was a play at home version.  You remember . . . partner A can give their partner only a one-word clue for THE CORRECT WORD.

Lightning quick word associations can sometimes be embarrassing as they were for a friend's response to the clue "Fondle".

   Almost proved to be as dangerous as being "blocked for too many failed authentication attempts".

  

      Satchel

" IN OTHER (POLYSYLLABIC) WORDS . . . "

 

     Dean Robert Cushman of Duke Divinity School was in "high gear" in his Theology Survey lecture. Barely pausing for breath, he unleashed a stream of multi-syllable words.  A fellow on the front row emitted an unexpected "Huh?" to which the momentarily startled scholar eventually responded, "Young man, do you have a dictionary ?"  A meek "Yes, sir"  answered by a supercilious "Look 'em up !"  Old-timers in this area described such utterances as "Fifty cent words", sometimes followed by the admonition "in other words, speak plainly." 

   Now, "big words" can be fun and can facilitate oral and written expression of thought . . . but not when used as weapons to create distance among persons nor to be ostentatious (whoops, show off). As a way to exercise brain function, I have begun receiving a "Word of the Day" from a dictionary company.  Some I recognize; others have been neologisms (darn, did it again; new  words). Several of the more recent offerings capture much of what is currently transpiring in American political campaigns.  So, as the late Jackie Gleason would have said, "Away we go !"  " In other words" when using a dictionary word, I will attempt my 'everyday' translations.

   We begin with the t.v. and print broadsides ["very harsh or strong spoken or written attack"]. Very few are breviloquent ["  marked by brevity of speech"] and seem more like the  invective ["insulting language"] or gibberish ["unintelligible or meaningless language] of policasters  ["petty, contemptible politicians"].  Several candidates have been cited for their blatherskite ["foolish talk; nonsense"] rendering their veracity juberous ["doubtful"] and creating kerfuffles ["disturbances"]  which tend to tenebrificate ["cause gloom and darkness"].   

    Then  there are the plenteous rapscallions ["worthless, idle persons"] who qualify as purse-leeches ["excessively greedy for money"] and pie-counters ["a political patronage or spoils especially when regarded as venal or corrupt"] as well as being termed an embusque ["person who avoids military service; a draft dodger"] . Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell recently complained of  -aster candidates ["a suffix indicating 'inferior'"]. Doubtless, many aspiring to office hold dispathic opinions of the voters ["marked by a lack of sympathy"]. Worse still are those who barely conceal their epicharikaky ["a joy for the misfortune of others"].

   Despite the current prevalence of chicanery ["the use of trickery to achieve a political purpose"], dare we dream of the repullulation ["budding or sprouting again"] of 'domestic tranquility' and other ideals of the United States Constitution. . . which was written "in plain English".

    Satchel

Scenes of the Season

 

                                                                Planted in 1963

    "Now October has come again which in our land is different from October in other lands. . . . The ripe, the golden month has come again . . ."  (Thomas Wolfe)

  Every Season has its predominant colors. . . the pastels of Springtime's blossoms, Summer's plush verdancy or brown (depending on rainfall) and even Winter's' whiteness and trees' dark bare limbs pointing skyward.  Still,  Autumn, especially October, tugs at my soul like no other time of the year.

  Devotees claim that the beach in the Autumn is akin to paradise. When I feel the pull to restore perspective and tranquility, the mountains beckon.  There is a kind of fullness or completion in observing the seasonal cycle's move to maturity.  If Winter is a kind of metaphor for death and endings, the transition to Autumn offers a time for reflection. Wolfe: "The ripe, the golden month".

                                  From our balcony a couple of years back

                                

Pumpkin pie, Pumpkin cheesecake, Pumpkin Latte

PUMPKIN EVERYTHING

                                                                                           

           Wolfe: "October is the richest of the seasons: the fields are cut, the granaries are full. ..."

                      On the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina several Autumns Ago

     Last October , we spent a week at a lodging atop Sugar Mountain near Banner Elk, North Carolina.  It was chilly but nothing like the scene photographed this morning (October 19, 2022):

And, in nearby Elk Park, this photo captured the transitions of the seasons:

  Such scenes cause me to paraphrase a poetry line of the late Shel Silverstein: "Must we always have Winter; Can't [Autumn] just stay ?"

       Satchel

NO MATTER WHAT YOU CALL IT . . .

               Cartoon Bill Mauldin's World War II Up Front

      I can no longer drink the hard stuff. . .  regular or any other type coffee that has a caffeine kick.  Cardiologist said it is not good  for my health. But during Graduate School days (or more accurately, nights) strong coffee became a constant companion. An unnamed acquaintance had elevated blood pressure and his physician asked how many daily cups he drank.  "Six or eight.  That's too many, right ?"  For you, yes.  I don't know his consumption now but I hope that he drinks less.

  If it is for the  'taste' , I fare o.k. on the decaf types, sometimes called 'unleaded' rather than the 'leaded' or  caffeinated kinds. Hardly a purist or connoisseur of the many choices offered,  I apply the simple test:  "Do I like the taste?"  

   My former neighbor, Dick Rountree, has always been noted for his kindness and candor.  When I was imbibing a brand of 'Instant Coffee', I offered him a  cup. With one sip, he judged that "that is the worst cup of coffee that I have ever had!"

    Many names have been ascribed to the  beverage: Java, Mud, Elixir of Life, Cuppa,  Joe, ad infinitum. Among my favorite terms is Cuppa Joe.  Whether historically accurate or not, the term allegedly originate in 1914 when Josephus Daniel, a teetotaler, became Secretary of the Navy and prohibited any beverage stronger that  black coffee to be served on US vessels.

  Bob Bryant and I solved many 'world problems' drinking 5 cent coffee in the Student Commons when we were in Seminary at Duke. FIVE CENTS!!  Today a  small cup will equal the price of a nourishing meal in those long ago times.

  Baristas seem to be everywhere mixing their concoctions to a wide array of fees in excess of 5 cents.   Just a cursory scanning of 'coffee' entries on the internet led to a surfeit of information.  For example, I learned that one is not a "coffee addict" but rather a  "javaphile". And there  is a  website Fluentincoffee.com.  

  As the lowest ranking soldier at the 3d Army Flight Detachment in Atlanta in the early 1960's, it became my duty to make the large pot of morning coffee at the hanger.  'Awful' would be an accurate description and I was never considered a barista.

  We have found a few nearby shops that suit our tastes.  (The  following are not 'paid' nor requested advertisements.)  In nearby Sanford, NC, there is Kathy's Java Shop, an unpretentious gathering spot that  features a  wide array of concoctions.  A favorite is "Seduction", served either hot or cold.  The following is from the gallery of 'wall art':

               

                                                                                                                  

    

Nearer home, The Chatham Rabbit has been 

delighting customers with their array of brews for four years.  As this shot taken from the Facebook page shows, the CR has become an integral part of the local Arts Community.

                                                                                            

    According to my wife's finely honed taste buds, Jay at Cafe Root Cellar in nearby Pittsboro makes a world class Chai Latte.

    The single K-cup machine perhaps is not as ubiquitous as in times past. Today after my haircut, I noticed this set-up in the shop:

   

        Apparently there are lots of us like the soldier in the cartoon above.  Drink Up !

    Satchel

  

              

"What was it all for . . .?"

    He enlisted in the US Navy at age 19  - - - soon after the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941.  Given his aptitude and intelligence, he gravitated  towards aviation and Officers' School.  Fortified with a strong sense of patriotism and courage, he was soon flying dangerous missions in the Southeast Asian theater of operations.  Lots of missions, dangerous missions.  Unlike many of his fellow servicemen, he survived and eventually returned home, proud that he had been a part of the victory ending Fascism.  

      Patriotism continued to run strong for a time post-war. Throughout the years of war, Americans had generally displayed support of the sacrifices and     dislocations brought on by the magnitude of  the conflict.  The advent of the "Cold War" contributed to the sometime souring of  'patriotism' into 'nationalism'.  The latter  has been described as a kind of glorification and unity of the culture, with emphasis on language and heritage . Those who do not accept that often skewered nostalgic viewpoint find themselves subjected to virulent and vile accusations of treason and such. An extreme example of this sentiment is found in the Holocaust. Patriotism on the other hand is based on an inclusivity of 'we are all in this together' emphasizing values and beliefs.

   Even a cursory survey of  American history since 1945 provides numerous instances of disenchantment and fissures within  this country's fabric. 'Lip service' to ideals of democracy, the dignity and worth of  people, justice, kindness and the like have been frequently replaced  with a cynicism and despair.

   Which brings the focus back to the idealistic young  patriot above: He opted to remain on  active duty with the Navy, ultimately reaching the rank of Admiral. Now still a lucid 99 year old, he has surveyed the current state of  American society and politics with their divisiveness, rancor,  violence, ad nauseam and sadly asked a friend, "What was it all for ?"

    His is a poignant query. No synthetic patriotism, please. The 'real thing'. As Samuel Johnson said in 1775, "Patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel." He spoke out not against love of country, etc. but a deliberate distortion of facts.

 And the American social critic, H.L. Mencken described the perversity that often postures as patriotism: "It's chief glories are the demagogue, the military bully, and the spreaders of libels and false history. Its philosophy rests firmly on the doctrine that the end justifies the means -- that any blow whether above or below the belt, is fair against dissenters from its  wholesale denial of plain facts."

   Abraham Lincoln urged his audience to resolve that the dead at Gettysburg  "shall not have died in vain--that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom --and that government of the people, by the people, for the people , shall not perish from the earth."

   That is 'what it was all for'.  Will it live ?

          Satchel