The Proof Is In The Pudding
Hello World,
Happy Valentine's Day, plus one! I hope that you observed the saint's day with the requisite hearts and flowers, romance and indulgence, not to mention, satin ribbons and lace doilies that would satisfy any Cupid's fondest desires. It's a widely recognized axiom that "diamonds are a girl's best friend," but when it comes to Valentine's Day, I tend to prefer things with a lot less sparkle and a lot more milk chocolate, thank you very much. Throw in some caramel and chopped nuts, and you can keep your jewelry, believe me. Our holiday started out in an unusual way, actually the night before, when we had to call the plumber at 11:00 at night because our furnace was making a strange buzzing noise. Because I have "medical student's disease," I convinced myself that I was getting a headache and dizziness from carbon monoxide poisoning, in spite of the fact that our house is draftier than an old canvas tent, and it would be impossible to be overcome by fumes in here, no matter what. So at 7:30 AM on Valentine's Day, here was the plumber in our driveway, which is a new approach to the holiday in our experiences, and as innovations go, I can't say that I recommend it all that much. But he gave our furnace a clean bill of health, so we could go to work and not worry about the house blowing up while we were gone. And in fact, it didn't, and we came home to find things exactly as we had left them, and glad of it. So we opened our presents after dinner, and considered the day a huge success, and don't think I don't have the chocolate to prove it. On the other hand, Bill complained that by Wednesday, February 6th, which was 8 days before the holiday, the supermarket had already cleared out all of their Valentine's Day merchandise from the seasonal aisle, and replaced it with a profusion of Easter baskets, chocolate bunnies, pastel candy eggs and baby chicks of every description. Sounds like the "Event Police" sized up ol' Cupid and his pals, and found them wanting in terms of sales appeal, so they got the bum's rush in favor of the next big thing.
Speaking of events, alert readers may be wondering, if the Super Bowl has come and gone (and even the ticker-tape parade for the Giants along the Canyon of Heroes in midtown Manhattan) what about the annual congregational meeting at church? For years, these two occasions were scheduled on the same Sunday in January, and it was easy to remember when the annual meeting would be at church, because for weeks ahead of time, the date for the upcoming Super Bowl was all over the media and there was no getting away from it. The NFL season had gotten so long over the years that the Super Bowl was finally stretched out all the way to the last Sunday in January, and our meeting moved right along with it, but once the football bigwigs pushed it back into February, we bailed out on it, and left tradition behind by keeping our meeting in January. And so there it was, and that sound you don't hear is of the wailing and gnashing of teeth, not to mention name-calling and throwing chairs, that pointedly didn't happen at the meeting this time around. We actually conducted some business, elected Council members, passed the budget and had lunch, and seldom was heard a discouraging word, all the live-long day, with a banjo on my knee. I think it would be premature to hope that after 500 years, Lutherans had finally gotten mature enough to have a meeting without it turning into an acrimonious free-for-all, but at least this was a welcome change of pace. And I'm sure that rumor of a new kiosk for ice skate rentals in Hades has just been wildly exaggerated.
About the cold, that's one thing I don't have to worry about any longer, since Santa's elves were warm-hearted enough to bring me a heated seat cushion for the Escort, so I can stay nice and toasty in any kind of weather. While the Gremlin, bless its little purple heart, was not equipped with a cigarette lighter, the Escort had no such deficiency, although it took a team of experts to arrive at that conclusion. When I got the Escort in September, it didn't take long to notice the hole in the dashboard, among the other controls and below the radio, where I supposed, the cigarette lighter would have been if there had been one, which there apparently was not. I paid it no mind, since I didn't require a cigarette lighter for any purpose, and certainly didn't stick anything into it as an experiment. (Feel free to ask Bill about the time I cut through an extension cord with a pair of scissors, if you wonder at my lack of curiosity on this point.) So when I unwrapped the heated seat cushion on Christmas Day, which plugs handily into the car's cigarette lighter, I couldn't help but blurt out that there is no cigarette lighter in the Escort, just a hole on the dashboard where it used to be. Of course, everyone knows that Bill is not to be daunted, and he hurried to the store and picked up an after-market cigarette lighter kit for our mechanic to install in the Escort, and after all, there was already a convenient spot for it to fit right into. Not so fast! Our young mechanic, who would prefer to be thought of as expedient rather than lazy, assured us that the hole in the dashboard was still a perfectly functional cigarette lighter socket, and the only thing missing was the actual cigarette lighter feature which usually identifies the whole apparatus, but the socket worked fine. He proved this by using the socket to charge up his cell phone, and was pleased as punch with the results. Being young and fearless, he couldn't help but ask, "Didn't you try sticking anything in it to see if it worked?" (Please see note above about extension cord and scissors.) So that was more of a learning experience than an actual mechanical repair, but it all worked out for the best, as I've been enjoying my heated seat cushion on those frigid mornings and frosty evenings back and forth to work, and I can heartily recommend it.
While we're on the subject of cars, I happened to be walking around the hospital campus one afternoon, and from down the block, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a car alarm going off at full volume. This was one of those security systems that runs through a series of five different alarm sounds in sequence over and over again, that are really annoying until the person shuts it off, and I guarantee that if grenades were more readily available ... well, I for one could not be responsible for the consequences, and I don't think I'm alone in that. Everyone knows that my personal opinion is that when a car alarm is going off full-tilt and at length, that's the perfect opportunity to break into the car, because it's obvious that no one is paying the slightest attention to the fact that the alarm is going off anyway, and you may as well take advantage of it. An unheeded car alarm is the same kind of open invitation as piled-up mail and newspapers in front of a house, it just screams that no one is watching the store, as it were. Anyway, I was hoping for the sake of the neighbors that someone would come out soon and turn off the darned alarm so they wouldn't have to listen to it any longer than necessary, when I noticed a car pulling out of a side street and turning onto the street I was on. And you could have knocked me right over when I realized that this was the very car that the alarm was blaring for all the world to hear, and here it was, driving nonchalantly down the street as if there was nothing at all amiss. It drove right past me, and you couldn't miss the fact that got louder and louder as it approached, and then softer and softer as it continued on its way, so it was obviously the alarm in question. As noisy as it was out on the street, I'm thinking that it must have been even worse inside the car, so that must have been no picnic to be driving around with that screaming racket in your face, even if it was just to go the service station and have the alarm fixed. Of course, we can't overlook the possibility, as I've always suggested, that someone just came along and stole the car as long as the alarm was going off anyway and no one was paying attention to it, in which case, the noise was a small price to pay for a new car.
Well, I hope that everyone has gotten their licks in by taking pot-shots at HealthStream, because I just found out that it's a thing of the past. Alas, poor HealthStream. This was the service that the hospital signed up for a few years ago, whereby the staff could complete their annual mandatory education requirements online, which was supposed to be much easier to keep everyone up-to-date on their training in fire safety, infection control, HIPAA, emergency preparedness and hazardous materials. It replaced the previous system of dragging all 1,600 employees to the auditorium, a batch at a time, to go over these lessons in person, which was considered too archaic by our forward-thinking management. They touted the advantages of HealthStream, which provided a vast array of Internet resources, it could be altered or updated quickly if needed, and completion rates tracked with ease. I will admit that I was one of the nay-sayers, and I said right from the start that it could never work, and when it came to tossing brickbats at it, I was right there in the front and center, pitching hard. I felt that too great a proportion of the hospital employees were low-paid entry-level foreign workers, in Housekeeping, Dietary and the Storeroom, whose lack of computer literacy would doom the program from the outset. I complained about it long and loud over the few years that it was in place, decrying the wrong answers, incomprehensible questions, erroneous completion rates and balky interface that marred its effectiveness right from the very beginning. I will say that my complaints about things have never had any impact at the hospital previously, so I certainly can't chalk it up to that, but I found out earlier in the week that the hospital had severed its relationship with HealthStream, and was instead implementing a system of paper tests that everyone would need to complete and return. Well, that's what I would call a giant step into the 19th century, and while I was no fan of HealthStream, I can't see that this is going to much of an improvement. And I have the feeling that it won't be long before we're all going to miss HealthStream, and wish that we had it to kick around again. And I'd be right in there kicking, you can believe it.
Meanwhile, we get this story from Bill:
================================
In other news, I was looking for some software for my Palm and came across this guy who was selling a flash-card like program to help you learn a language. Unfortunately, the blurb on the page read like this:
"A program LanguageTutor is intended for effective memorization of foreign words. The unique method of word memorization on the basis of letter tips (prompts) is applied in the program. Unlike flash cards, the letter tips give rise to a number of associations and "hooks" for effective memorization.To not be proofless we shall disassemble work of the program on an example."
Now, THAT'S the guy I want to learn a language from! Sign me up!
================================
Well, if that last sentence is a "work of the program on an example," that may be an idea whose time has not yet come, or perhaps would be better described as "Some Disassembly Required." Say, I'll bet this is the same guy who used to do HealthStream! Now, where's my brickbat when I need it?
Happy Valentine's Day, plus one! I hope that you observed the saint's day with the requisite hearts and flowers, romance and indulgence, not to mention, satin ribbons and lace doilies that would satisfy any Cupid's fondest desires. It's a widely recognized axiom that "diamonds are a girl's best friend," but when it comes to Valentine's Day, I tend to prefer things with a lot less sparkle and a lot more milk chocolate, thank you very much. Throw in some caramel and chopped nuts, and you can keep your jewelry, believe me. Our holiday started out in an unusual way, actually the night before, when we had to call the plumber at 11:00 at night because our furnace was making a strange buzzing noise. Because I have "medical student's disease," I convinced myself that I was getting a headache and dizziness from carbon monoxide poisoning, in spite of the fact that our house is draftier than an old canvas tent, and it would be impossible to be overcome by fumes in here, no matter what. So at 7:30 AM on Valentine's Day, here was the plumber in our driveway, which is a new approach to the holiday in our experiences, and as innovations go, I can't say that I recommend it all that much. But he gave our furnace a clean bill of health, so we could go to work and not worry about the house blowing up while we were gone. And in fact, it didn't, and we came home to find things exactly as we had left them, and glad of it. So we opened our presents after dinner, and considered the day a huge success, and don't think I don't have the chocolate to prove it. On the other hand, Bill complained that by Wednesday, February 6th, which was 8 days before the holiday, the supermarket had already cleared out all of their Valentine's Day merchandise from the seasonal aisle, and replaced it with a profusion of Easter baskets, chocolate bunnies, pastel candy eggs and baby chicks of every description. Sounds like the "Event Police" sized up ol' Cupid and his pals, and found them wanting in terms of sales appeal, so they got the bum's rush in favor of the next big thing.
Speaking of events, alert readers may be wondering, if the Super Bowl has come and gone (and even the ticker-tape parade for the Giants along the Canyon of Heroes in midtown Manhattan) what about the annual congregational meeting at church? For years, these two occasions were scheduled on the same Sunday in January, and it was easy to remember when the annual meeting would be at church, because for weeks ahead of time, the date for the upcoming Super Bowl was all over the media and there was no getting away from it. The NFL season had gotten so long over the years that the Super Bowl was finally stretched out all the way to the last Sunday in January, and our meeting moved right along with it, but once the football bigwigs pushed it back into February, we bailed out on it, and left tradition behind by keeping our meeting in January. And so there it was, and that sound you don't hear is of the wailing and gnashing of teeth, not to mention name-calling and throwing chairs, that pointedly didn't happen at the meeting this time around. We actually conducted some business, elected Council members, passed the budget and had lunch, and seldom was heard a discouraging word, all the live-long day, with a banjo on my knee. I think it would be premature to hope that after 500 years, Lutherans had finally gotten mature enough to have a meeting without it turning into an acrimonious free-for-all, but at least this was a welcome change of pace. And I'm sure that rumor of a new kiosk for ice skate rentals in Hades has just been wildly exaggerated.
About the cold, that's one thing I don't have to worry about any longer, since Santa's elves were warm-hearted enough to bring me a heated seat cushion for the Escort, so I can stay nice and toasty in any kind of weather. While the Gremlin, bless its little purple heart, was not equipped with a cigarette lighter, the Escort had no such deficiency, although it took a team of experts to arrive at that conclusion. When I got the Escort in September, it didn't take long to notice the hole in the dashboard, among the other controls and below the radio, where I supposed, the cigarette lighter would have been if there had been one, which there apparently was not. I paid it no mind, since I didn't require a cigarette lighter for any purpose, and certainly didn't stick anything into it as an experiment. (Feel free to ask Bill about the time I cut through an extension cord with a pair of scissors, if you wonder at my lack of curiosity on this point.) So when I unwrapped the heated seat cushion on Christmas Day, which plugs handily into the car's cigarette lighter, I couldn't help but blurt out that there is no cigarette lighter in the Escort, just a hole on the dashboard where it used to be. Of course, everyone knows that Bill is not to be daunted, and he hurried to the store and picked up an after-market cigarette lighter kit for our mechanic to install in the Escort, and after all, there was already a convenient spot for it to fit right into. Not so fast! Our young mechanic, who would prefer to be thought of as expedient rather than lazy, assured us that the hole in the dashboard was still a perfectly functional cigarette lighter socket, and the only thing missing was the actual cigarette lighter feature which usually identifies the whole apparatus, but the socket worked fine. He proved this by using the socket to charge up his cell phone, and was pleased as punch with the results. Being young and fearless, he couldn't help but ask, "Didn't you try sticking anything in it to see if it worked?" (Please see note above about extension cord and scissors.) So that was more of a learning experience than an actual mechanical repair, but it all worked out for the best, as I've been enjoying my heated seat cushion on those frigid mornings and frosty evenings back and forth to work, and I can heartily recommend it.
While we're on the subject of cars, I happened to be walking around the hospital campus one afternoon, and from down the block, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a car alarm going off at full volume. This was one of those security systems that runs through a series of five different alarm sounds in sequence over and over again, that are really annoying until the person shuts it off, and I guarantee that if grenades were more readily available ... well, I for one could not be responsible for the consequences, and I don't think I'm alone in that. Everyone knows that my personal opinion is that when a car alarm is going off full-tilt and at length, that's the perfect opportunity to break into the car, because it's obvious that no one is paying the slightest attention to the fact that the alarm is going off anyway, and you may as well take advantage of it. An unheeded car alarm is the same kind of open invitation as piled-up mail and newspapers in front of a house, it just screams that no one is watching the store, as it were. Anyway, I was hoping for the sake of the neighbors that someone would come out soon and turn off the darned alarm so they wouldn't have to listen to it any longer than necessary, when I noticed a car pulling out of a side street and turning onto the street I was on. And you could have knocked me right over when I realized that this was the very car that the alarm was blaring for all the world to hear, and here it was, driving nonchalantly down the street as if there was nothing at all amiss. It drove right past me, and you couldn't miss the fact that got louder and louder as it approached, and then softer and softer as it continued on its way, so it was obviously the alarm in question. As noisy as it was out on the street, I'm thinking that it must have been even worse inside the car, so that must have been no picnic to be driving around with that screaming racket in your face, even if it was just to go the service station and have the alarm fixed. Of course, we can't overlook the possibility, as I've always suggested, that someone just came along and stole the car as long as the alarm was going off anyway and no one was paying attention to it, in which case, the noise was a small price to pay for a new car.
Well, I hope that everyone has gotten their licks in by taking pot-shots at HealthStream, because I just found out that it's a thing of the past. Alas, poor HealthStream. This was the service that the hospital signed up for a few years ago, whereby the staff could complete their annual mandatory education requirements online, which was supposed to be much easier to keep everyone up-to-date on their training in fire safety, infection control, HIPAA, emergency preparedness and hazardous materials. It replaced the previous system of dragging all 1,600 employees to the auditorium, a batch at a time, to go over these lessons in person, which was considered too archaic by our forward-thinking management. They touted the advantages of HealthStream, which provided a vast array of Internet resources, it could be altered or updated quickly if needed, and completion rates tracked with ease. I will admit that I was one of the nay-sayers, and I said right from the start that it could never work, and when it came to tossing brickbats at it, I was right there in the front and center, pitching hard. I felt that too great a proportion of the hospital employees were low-paid entry-level foreign workers, in Housekeeping, Dietary and the Storeroom, whose lack of computer literacy would doom the program from the outset. I complained about it long and loud over the few years that it was in place, decrying the wrong answers, incomprehensible questions, erroneous completion rates and balky interface that marred its effectiveness right from the very beginning. I will say that my complaints about things have never had any impact at the hospital previously, so I certainly can't chalk it up to that, but I found out earlier in the week that the hospital had severed its relationship with HealthStream, and was instead implementing a system of paper tests that everyone would need to complete and return. Well, that's what I would call a giant step into the 19th century, and while I was no fan of HealthStream, I can't see that this is going to much of an improvement. And I have the feeling that it won't be long before we're all going to miss HealthStream, and wish that we had it to kick around again. And I'd be right in there kicking, you can believe it.
Meanwhile, we get this story from Bill:
================================
In other news, I was looking for some software for my Palm and came across this guy who was selling a flash-card like program to help you learn a language. Unfortunately, the blurb on the page read like this:
"A program LanguageTutor is intended for effective memorization of foreign words. The unique method of word memorization on the basis of letter tips (prompts) is applied in the program. Unlike flash cards, the letter tips give rise to a number of associations and "hooks" for effective memorization.To not be proofless we shall disassemble work of the program on an example."
Now, THAT'S the guy I want to learn a language from! Sign me up!
================================
Well, if that last sentence is a "work of the program on an example," that may be an idea whose time has not yet come, or perhaps would be better described as "Some Disassembly Required." Say, I'll bet this is the same guy who used to do HealthStream! Now, where's my brickbat when I need it?
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 8:12 PM
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