Barb Caffrey's Blog

Writing the Elfyverse . . . and beyond

Archive for the ‘in general’ Category

Way Too Hot, Way Too Humid…and My Thoughts Regarding the Recent MN Assassinations and Assassination Attempts

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The weather here in Southeastern Wisconsin is bad. It’s been hot, humid, and nasty for the past several days…this on top of the previous few weeks of marginal to outright bad air quality (this for everyone, not just asthmatics like me).

Otherwise, I’ve been thinking about a lot of things. The shootings of the Minnesota lawmakers — the assassinations of one and her husband (Melissa and Mark Hortman), and the attempted assassinations of another and his wife (John Hoffman and his wife Yvette Hoffman) — have dwelled upon my mind. It is deeply upsetting that there are people in this country who do such awful things.

I’ve been saying this for years, mind, over the various terrible things that have happened. Not all of it has happened to politicians. Sometimes police have been shot (such as at a grocery store in Colorado) and killed while doing their jobs. (Indeed, there were police who were trying to keep order on January 6th, 2021, who got badly hurt. A few later died and there were at least ten who had significant injuries that caused them to retire early from the police force. Look up Michael Fanone’s name to find out what happened to him, that day.) There have been school kids killed for what seems like no reason whatsoever (Sandy Hook, Columbine, Uvalde).

I don’t know what the answers are to stop these things, especially as what tends to work in other countries does not work well in the United States. (Such as controlling the flow of automatic weapons. Note I didn’t say all weapons. The Second Amendment to the Constitution assuredly believed people should keep some weapons, though at the time it was written, gunsmithing was not very far along and automatic weaponry and semiautomatic weapons were not even a glimmer in a creator’s eye.)

But one thing I do know is, staying silent doesn’t work.

I condemn all of these various things that I’ve discussed. I have condemned them many times on my blog with other, awful things that have happened (including the attempted assassination of Rep. Gabrielle Giffords, D-AZ). And I most definitely condemn the assassination of the Hortmans and the attempted assassinations of the Hoffmans. I think if you believe in the Bible, as the shooter who assassinated the Hortmans and nearly managed to kill the Hoffmans supposedly did, that you need to look at the Ten Commandments again.

One of them is, “Thou shalt not kill.” Sometimes that is translated as “Thou shalt not murder.”

The shooter’s part-time roommate (I am not naming the shooter as I never do here at my blog) said in several places that he knew his roommate the shooter wasn’t happy with politicians. But the roommate also said that doing something like this is flat-out crazy. He never suspected the shooter. Pointed out that both he (the roommate) and the shooter had voted for Trump (there was a conspiracy theory going around saying that it was a leftwing activist who went after the Hortmans and Hoffmans for “not being left enough,” but that’s not the case).

I say this to point out that it’s more important to follow Jesus’s proposed eleventh commandment, that being “Love one another as I have loved you.”

I also want you to think about this: If Jesus were here now, who do you think he’d be helping? The homeless on the street, or the billionaires jetting from island to island? Would he be more likely to help the poor Mary Magdalenes of this world (i.e., prostitutes) or would he help those who already have power consolidate it into their two hands and never let it go?

If you honestly think that Jesus, if he came to Earth today, would not try to help the homeless and would not try to help contemporary Mary Magdalenes, I don’t know what to say to you.

“But Barb,” you protest. “Why wouldn’t he want to help the billionaires be better people?”

I think Jesus would want to do that. But if time was limited — and being in a mortal body, time is always limited — he’d help those who obviously needed it first. The drunks. The indigent. The folks trying their best who can’t catch a break. The prostitutes, especially those who’ve been human trafficked.

I do think that current-day billionaires should look at two people to perhaps give them some sort of enlightenment. The first is Bill Gates, who has vowed to give away his entire fortune before he dies. The second is, of all people, Cornelius Vanderbilt, as Vanderbilt’s philanthropy was almost as legendary as his ability to make lots and lots of money.

But as it’s very unlikely any of them will read my blog, I’ll leave the rest of you with this:

Be your best self. Care about others. Pay attention, and do what you can to alleviate other people’s pain. If you can make a positive difference for someone, do it.

That, to my mind, is what any positive religious influence, whether it’s Jesus, Confucius, the Buddha, Joseph Smith, or Baha’ullah, has hoped for us to do.

Also, keep listening to the new Pope. He has his head on straight. (You don’t have to agree with him 100% of the time. I think it’s impossible to agree with anyone 100% of the time.)

For those of you who feel as I do, stuck in the Void and wondering if anything you do will ever matter all that much, keep holding a positive thought as best you can.

One day at a time. Sometimes, one hour at a time, or one minute at a time. Just do your best to help others, and “Love one another the way I loved you,” as Jesus said. (Or as the Wiccans say, “Do what you want so long as you harm none.”)

P.S. The Hoffmans look on their way to a full recovery. I am very glad about this.

P.P.S. In case there’s any doubt, I condemn all violence. As Jon Stewart said last week on the Daily Show (Monday’s edition), “I don’t give a flying **** as to why this man” (meaning the shooter in MN) “did what he did.” (And yes, he said the actual word. I try not to do that, as if I started typing expletives all the time I’d get nothing done. But I did sympathize with Stewart while he used his own.)

P.P.P.S. I also am quite upset that the Hortmans’ faithful dog, a Golden Retriever, was shot. The Hortman children had to make the decision to put the poor dog down. Melissa Hortman, former Democratic Speaker of Minnesota’s lower house, was known for walking her dog, rain or shine, several times a day. That an innocent, loving animal was killed — as he wouldn’t have had to be put down without that shooter doing those atrocious and reprehensible things — in addition to the Hortmans themselves just angers me on a visceral level that I can’t quite explain.

Written by Barb Caffrey

June 23, 2025 at 6:22 am

Posted in Criticism/critique, heartbreaking stories, in general, Informational Stuff, mass shootings, Prescient observations, Religion, Spirituality, Truly horrible behavior, Writing

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Father’s Day Has Come and Gone (and I Have Thoughts)

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Folks, yesterday was the second Father’s Day I’ve observed since my Dad died. It wasn’t an easy day in a lot of senses, mostly because the weather has been crappy in addition to observing this day…the air quality here has been downright awful, not just for asthmatics like me, but for everyone due to the Canadian wildfire smoke.

Anyway, Dad and I had a complicated history and relationship. He helped me many times, which I appreciated, but did not want any appreciation for this. (“You’re my daughter,” he’d say firmly. “What am I supposed to do?”) We talked about a lot of sports, we also talked about current events, and while we didn’t always agree on everything, Dad was a good conversationalist and enjoyed verbal sparring to a degree.

I miss him.

He was cantankerous. He delighted in being that way. He felt men should be strong, capable, and caring…but he also really didn’t like a lot of what he was seeing in contemporary society.

For example, to him, Giannis Antetokounmpo should’ve married his wife a lot sooner. They had several children before they married. I think the reason for them not getting married before having the kids is because life as an international superstar is not easy. Scheduling something as big as a wedding must be a difficult endeavor for someone like Giannis.

I do think Dad would be happy that Giannis married at long last (as this happened after Dad’s passing). Giannis always was true to his wife, and he’s been true to his kids, and I think Giannis’s own father would’ve been proud of him whether Giannis ever legally married his wife or not.

The difference, though, is in how Dad, being of an older generation, viewed marriage. He truly believed you should not have kids before marriage. (He knew people had sex before marriage and had for thousands of years, regardless of what that partnership ritual was called.) He thought it a difficult and problematic thing for the children because of things he saw in childhood, no doubt.

See, my father lost his mother when he was just eleven years old. His father was at the time a long-distance trucker, I think…and while other relatives would’ve taken in Dad and his three siblings, they wouldn’t take all four of them. So, my grandfather Edward made the difficult decision to put all four of them in the local orphanage as that was the only way they’d see each other every day. (Dad said it wasn’t easy, either. His two sisters were in the girls’ wing, while he and his brother Richard were in the boys’ wing.)

I don’t know all the people Dad met in the orphanage, much less the lessons he learned there. I do know he was there, as were his sibs, and it marked him for the rest of his life.

Mind you, he was not bitter over it. He understood his father’s reasoning and was glad to be able to see his sibs every day (even if it wasn’t easy to see his sisters).

But his life was upended very early, which is one reason he was a huge supporter of places like the Boys Home and such. He’d been there. He knew that everyone should have as many opportunities as possible.

Dad did his best to make things as stable as they could be despite my parents’ marriage always being difficult. (Loving, but difficult, is the best I’ve got to describe it.) Even after my parents divorced, it was clear that we’d always have a home with him (and also with Mom). This was a good thing, because several times in my life, I needed to stay with Dad in order to sort out things as best I could.

While I’m glad I was with him the last several years until his body just gave out, I wish I could’ve had the big music career everyone had expected of me rather than the series of difficulties and distresses I endured otherwise.

Mind, I will never regret studying music. I continue to compose music when it comes to me, and it remains a big part of my life even though I haven’t been able to play my saxophone, clarinet, or oboe in almost two years.

I still believe that if my health ever improves, because of the talents I possess musically, I might do well overseas in France or Spain. They love classical saxophonists there, and the culture there has a richness that I would love to experience for myself.

Anyway, Dad served in the Navy, and he was stationed in Japan for a year or two (he was a radio technician). Because of this, he was sympathetic to my wish to go overseas and learn whatever there was, while experiencing whatever there was…even as he knew my health has never been robust, and that my dreams may stay just that.

Wisps in the ether.

Dad pivoted several times in his life when he needed to do so, even though he never liked it. (I don’t blame him.) He was an excellent postal carrier. (That’s how he always described it. “Mailman” didn’t seem like nearly enough.) He worked as a cashier and grocery stocker at one point (which I found out after I’d gotten a job as a cashier and stocker myself). He played the drums and spent over ten years in the Racine Municipal Band (starting before they changed the name to the current Racine Concert Band), mostly playing the bass drum. He delivered flowers and newspapers, too.

Dad also didn’t like most modern conveniences whatsoever. He disdained microwaves (though he didn’t mind me using it myself, as I have one), did his dishes by hand, and until the last few years of his life, used a push mower rather than a gas-powered one. He delighted in his orange tiger lilies, enjoyed watching nature — the squirrels, birds, bunny rabbits, etc., were endlessly fascinating to him.

Most of all, he enjoyed being in his own home, where he could make any food he wanted any time he wanted. The simple pleasures, he often said, were the best.

While many things in this world are deeply upsetting, we have to hold on to the positive things. The positive memories, too. We have to know what we stand for, and what ethical purpose we’re here to serve.

That’s what I learned from my father, among other things.

So, when I see bunny rabbits rooting in the yard and they look like they’re about to run away, I talk to them in a gentle voice. (Most of the time, they don’t run away if you’re kind and obviously mean them no harm.) When I see birds nesting in nearby trees, I wish them well raising their chicks. When I see the squirrels on the nearby fence, I laugh at some of their comical actions.

Life is very difficult. It can be frustrating, upsetting, and a hundred other things. But it also can be wonderful with the right people around you, and with a willingness to believe that kindness still matters.

That, too, I learned from my father, though he probably would be astonished to know that if he were still here.

At any rate, I wish everyone well and hope for a safe, peaceful, and enjoyable week ahead. (Drop me a note in the comments, if you’d like. I always enjoy hearing from my readers.)

P.S. For those who’ve asked — the health issues continue. It’s not just the bad air quality we’ve had off and on. I still have that rash and will be seeing the dermatologist again later this week. (Let’s hope that something can be done. At this point, I’m wondering if there’s an underlying infection.)

Written by Barb Caffrey

June 9, 2025 at 3:03 am

Posted in in general, Inspirational stuff, Persistence, Prescient observations, Remembrance, Writing

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Mourning the Passing of Milwaukee Bucks Legend Junior Bridgeman, 71

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Junior Bridgeman was the type of person everyone should want to be. He came from very modest means, once building a stereo out of spare parts with his brother (spare parts he’d scavenged, I’d heard) because otherwise he couldn’t listen to music. He played fourteen years in the National Basketball Association (NBA), most of them for the Milwaukee Bucks, and turned the money he made there (about $350,000 over his full career) into over a billion dollars by the time he passed away suddenly earlier today.

I say all that, because it’s been reported widely, especially in Wisconsin. But Bridgeman was known for his kindness, his optimism, his humility, and for being a family man around these parts, far more than his business acumen (which was formidable) or his friendships with other NBA players like Earvin “Magic” Johnson, Alex English, even Shaquille O’Neal. Bridgeman was the type of guy to do anything for anyone, as he had a good heart, a kind soul, and truly cared about others.

You know how Google’s motto has often been summed up as “Don’t be Evil,” right? Well, Bridgeman’s personal motto should’ve been something like this: “Do good. It matters, whether it looks like it or not.” That, along with living his personal values and faith — in himself, in others, and in the world at large, along with faith in the Higher Power — was what Junior Bridgeman was all about.

I remember seeing Bridgeman play on television when I was young. He could do anything. He was a great passer, he was a gifted scorer, could play both forward and guard despite the fact he was only 6’5″ (short for an NBA player, even then), and was perhaps the best sixth man in the entirety of the NBA for most of his career. (A sixth man, for those of you who don’t know anything about basketball, is the first guy to come off the bench after the five people who start the game. He’s often one of the most important people on the team, as while he doesn’t have the cachet of a starting player, he’s expected to put up nearly as good of numbers and be an optimistic and maybe even a benevolent presence to be emulated by players not as good as himself that were also on the roster. I know I put that in a very wordy way; I apologize.)

So, being a sixth man was in some ways beneficial to Junior Bridgeman. He knew he didn’t have to be in the limelight all the time to live a good life, have a great career (his number is retired by the Bucks; he wore the number two), and do his best. Some stars, once the limelight is gone, do not do well; there are many stories of the Ryan Leafs of this world, where they get into DUIs, other legal troubles, and can’t acclimate themselves to the pace of a more normal life. Fortunately, Bridgeman did not have that trouble at all.

Bridgeman, recently, became a minority owner of the Bucks. (Yes, he went from player to part-owner.) I don’t know a better rags-to-riches story than that, because it showed the current players that with far less money than they have now, Bridgeman was able to overcome and become a very savvy and accomplished businessman.

But that’s not really how I remember Junior Bridgeman. How I remember him isn’t even the on-court presence or the adept passing skills or the sweet jump shot Bridgeman possessed. Instead, it’s his penchant for helping others.

When we lose someone as kind-hearted as Junior Bridgeman, some of the light goes out of this world. The only consolation we can have is this: he shared his light for as long as he could, and maybe kindled light in others, who will continue to be beacons throughout their lifetimes.

I mourn the loss of Junior Bridgeman tonight. I hope his family, friends, teammates, the entire Bucks organization, and anyone else Bridgeman ever knew or ever helped will be comforted, somehow, by what I said above.

The light he shared matters. The example he set also matters.

But damn, I wish Junior Bridgeman was still here with us, to help more of us see the light.

Written by Barb Caffrey

March 11, 2025 at 9:56 pm

Posted in heartbreaking stories, Heartwarming stories, in general, Sports figures

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Thoughts on the Recent Deaths of Gene Hackman and his wife, Betsy Arakawa

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Folks, I’m still alive. Still here. Still doing my best. And, being me, I’ve been thinking about the biggest story and conundrum — outside of politics, that is (not healthy enough to talk politics yet) — of the last few weeks, those being the deaths of actor Gene Hackman, 95, and his wife, classical pianist Betsy Arakawa Hackman, 65.

When they were found, both had been dead over a week. Gene Hackman was found in the mud room — probably the room closest to one of the outside doors — his cane and sunglasses lying where they fell. His wife, Betsy, was found in the bathroom. She’d collapsed there. Pills were scattered all over. One of their three dogs had also perished, but the other two were OK.

You can see where this turn of events was shocking in many senses, can’t you?

Anyway, the medical examiner where they lived in New Mexico said that Betsy Arakawa Hackman died of hantavirus. She died, they think, on February 11, 2025. They had video and email evidence that showed she was active before that time.

When I heard that part of the news, I was a little surprised. Hantavirus is not something I have to deal with in Wisconsin, but I have heard of it. It is a disease spread by rodents. It’s possible that one of the three dogs might’ve carried something in…though the ME certainly didn’t speculate (that’s just me, knowing how dogs act).

Then the ME discussed Hackman’s death. (I heard this while driving, and confirmed a lot of it later online.) He died apparently a week after his wife did. Why didn’t he call 911? She didn’t get into that, but said he had three things that had combined to kill him: long-time hypertension, a history of cardiac problems/arteriosclerosis (also known as atherosclerosis), and, the most shocking of all, advanced Alzheimer’s disease.

This was really stunning to hear.

I took several deep breaths after hearing this, in fact, because I know, a little bit anyway, what Alzheimer’s can do. One of my great-aunts had dementia, probably Alzheimer’s. I visited her when I was a teenager. She didn’t recognize me, only part of the time recognized her own sister (the other part, she thought my grandma was their mother), and also didn’t recognize my mother — the person my great-aunt trusted best, besides her sister, in the whole world.

Alzheimer’s is a really weird disease. It not only robs you of your memories, robs you at least in part of your intellect (depending on how bad it is; my great-aunt’s wasn’t as bad as some as she could still communicate and did still recognize my grandma at least some of the time), but does all sorts of other things that don’t seem to make much sense at all. Some people who get it are not violent, as indeed my great-aunt was not. But some are.

We need a cure for Alzheimer’s and other types of dementia, because a disease that robs you of yourself is the scariest thing that I could ever imagine.

At any rate, everything I’m going to say next is speculation, but here goes.

Hackman had Alzheimer’s, so he didn’t either realize his wife was dead, didn’t know she was his wife anymore, or had some other thing going on. That’s why he didn’t call 911. He was still with it enough to take his cane with him when he went outside for a walk and to put sunglasses on, but that doesn’t mean he was with it in every other sense.

Because she died first, when he passed, there was no one to say anything about either one of them. He was on a cardiac monitor, and they later looked up what that feed told them. He had some sort of cardiac event on February 19th — this being approximately 8 days after the last time Betsy, his wife, had been alive — and after that, his pacemaker went nonfunctional. (That’s because he was dead.)

They had three dogs, and the one that died was twelve years old. That particular dog was known to be particularly attached to Betsy. It’s possible that the reason this dog was in a closet was because Hackman, not compos mentis anymore, didn’t like the howls, barks, whines, or other things the dog was probably doing around Betsy’s dead body. (Dogs do this. They know when someone is ill, and they know when someone is dying or has already passed on.) So, it’s possible Hackman put the one dog in the closet, then forgot about the dog, which is why the dog died (apparently of dehydration and malnutrition, though again, that’s my own speculation).

The other two dogs were still alive. How? Well, maybe Hackman had enough left of himself to feed the other two dogs and give them water. Maybe that’s why he went outside, as one of the dogs was found outside. We’ll never know for sure, but if no one was in that house save the Hackmans, and Betsy died on February 11, there’s only one reason the other two dogs were alive — and that’s because Gene Hackman was feeding and watering them.

This was tragic, though, on all levels. Betsy Arakawa Hackman loved her husband so much, she was taking care of him at home by herself. She wore herself down to a thread, it seems to me, and that may have been why when she somehow was exposed to hantavirus that she didn’t last very long. They know she emailed a few people on February 11, which means she was well enough to sit up and say she was sick (assuming that’s what she said; I don’t know if that’s what it was, as I’m still speculating). But later that day or evening, in the bathroom, she collapsed and died.

This part is not speculation, however. The ME said flat-out that Gene Hackman had previous cardiac events and heart damage consistent with prior heart attacks. The ME also said Gene H. had arteriosclerosis. (She said atherosclerosis. It’s the same thing, or so close it makes no nevermind.) This is what my grandma would’ve called “hardening of the arteries.” It’s consistent with the other heart issues the ME found.

So, even without the Alzheimer’s that the ME found, Gene H. would’ve needed extensive care from his wife or a caregiver. He was 95, his body was failing, and his mind was almost gone — I can’t imagine how else to put it, as he must’ve known someone had died in that bathroom, even if he didn’t recognize her as his wife anymore — so he didn’t know to call 911, or didn’t care, or felt it wasn’t his problem…who knows what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all? Maybe he did the best he could do, which was to keep the other two dogs alive.

Sometimes life is just cruel, and I think the fact that Betsy Arakawa Hackman died before her husband Gene did is just that: cruel.

All I can think of now is, what about the two surviving dogs? Will they find good homes? (I hope so.)

And, finally…if there is a positive afterlife, I hope Betsy greeted her husband, and that he knew her again, knew their love, knew her sacrifices on his behalf, and know her immense love and kindness and concern for him. I’d like to think the two of them walked into Heaven together, hand in hand, with their twelve-year-old dog beside them, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, free and happy and out of pain and knowing each other as only close loved ones can.

Written by Barb Caffrey

March 8, 2025 at 2:53 am

Posted in heartbreaking stories, in general, Informational Stuff, love stories, Public figures, Remembrance

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Surfacing Briefly…

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Folks, right now I am battling a case of the flu. I suspect it would be considered “mild” as I can think, but it’s not pleasant, regardless.

So, while I have plenty of things to say, my health is the priority right now.

Mostly, I just wanted to use this opportunity to urge you to be good to one another, and treat others the way you, yourself, want to be treated. As always, if you can keep from spreading vitriol (which I define as “bad stuff for the sake of bad stuff,” which is a lot different than speaking truth to power), do it, as the world has more than enough vitriol to last several thousand lifetimes as it is.

Music I’m listening to: Poppy’s “New Way Out” is attractive, though I don’t understand why she always has to say “Poppy” in all of her songs. (Her voice is distinctive enough that I don’t need that cue.) “I need a new way…I need a new way out” is a lyric that can’t help but resonate strongly with me. Other favorites include “Monsters” by Shinedown and of course “Hold on to Memories” by Disturbed.

Book I’m avidly waiting for: Sharon Lee and Steve Miller’s DIVINER’S BOW, the latest in their trademarked Liaden Universe. If you haven’t read any of their work yet, go do it ASAP. Good places to start include SALVAGE RIGHT, FLEDGLING, PLAN B, LOCAL CUSTOM, CONFLICT OF HONORS, and SCOUT’S PROGRESS. There’s action, romance, believable aliens, and all sorts of other details that cement these novels as being the excellent works I know them to be. Note that if you read one, you’re likely to find them as addicting as I do…in the best of senses. (So read, people!)

Anyway, hold tight to your moral compass, and remember that what is popular may not always be right. Open your minds, refuse to cede any of your mind to anyone in advance, and always, always question authority.

I’ll be back when I feel better.

Written by Barb Caffrey

February 13, 2025 at 3:57 am

Posted in in general, Informational Stuff, Prescient observations, Sharon Lee/Steve Miller, Writing

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The LA Fires: Hell on Earth

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Folks, I only lived in Northern California for a few years, but while I was there I noticed the weather patterns. (My late husband Michael had lived there for decades, so we talked about this from time to time.) In the summer, Los Angeles (LA) has a Mediterranean climate. In the fall, usually there are big rainstorms where sometimes homes not only can get flooded, but mudslides can take homes completely off their foundations. In the winter, the winds kick up, and if there’s been sufficient rain over the past nine months or so, there’s a lesser chance to have fires.

That’s not the situation right now.

California has been experiencing slightly different but much worse weather patterns in the fall and winter, partly because there hasn’t been enough rain during the previous months to do any good. So, with drought conditions, fires can start very quickly, and get very, very bad almost as the drop of a hat.

What caused the awful fires that have been going on now for about a week is a combination of factors, but the fact the region was in a drought is the main problem here. I call it “Hell on Earth” because whole blocks of residences are just plain, flat gone.

And the fires aren’t done yet.

There’s so much ash in the atmosphere in LA that some folks have said it looks kind of like snow. (Too bad it’s not. There is some moisture in snow.) The winds are unpredictable, awful, and the fires seem to be going every which way.

I’ve seen some politicians complain that the Democratic Governor of California, Gavin Newsom, might’ve done better here. I think that’s unfair criticism. The Mayor of LA, Karen Bass, also has been heavily criticized, with rumors going around that she’s fired the fire chief (untrue) and other such nonsensical things.

Look. Even if any of the criticism is remotely true, it is irrelevant. These people could have done everything right, and this still would’ve happened.

Why? It comes down to climate, weather patterns, and a worse than usual drought system. It’s a perfect storm of badness. Add those high winds, and you get chaos.

You get Hell on Earth.

Some in this world don’t seem to understand just how expensive it is to own real estate in any part of California, much less a usually extremely desirable location like LA. A $5.5M dollar home might be a $400,000 home somewhere else. (Under the current, inflated prices most people have to deal with.) A modest lot with a home on it is insanely expensive in California, especially in LA or San Francisco or San Diego.

People have lost everything they’d ever worked for. Some were retirees. Some were still in the workforce and were middle class or perhaps even lower middle class (if they’d inherited their home or a whole family had bought it together). By no means were all of the people affected movie stars, wealthy people who can buy everything they need at any time…no, most of the people were regular sorts.

Some of those who’ve died…one man was trying to get his son, who was severely disabled, out of the house and couldn’t do it. Another man was trying to save his house and refused to leave when the firefighters told him he had to go, and was found with a hose in his hand. Others died because the winds shifted so quickly, they could not get out.

The death toll right now, I think, stands at something like twenty-four people. That number’s only going to go up, and it could go way, way up depending on whether they can get any of the three major fires going on well contained. So far, they haven’t been able to do that, though there has been progress.

Still. The fire and police departments out there are working as much as they can — 12 hours on, 12 hours off — to help people. All sorts of people have come out of the woodwork to help, including the man I recommended to you all, actor Steve Gutenberg, helping others in whatever ways they can. (Jimmy Kimmel, on his nightly program on ABC, called Gutenberg “a national treasure” tonight. Rightfully so.)

These people will need enormous amounts of money and time and help. I hope they get it all. No one wants this. Even the politicians blaming other politicians, which I wish would not be happening during this crisis (save the kvetching until the fires are completely out, please!), do not want this. Devastation like this usually is only seen in wars.

Again, I hope these folks who’ve lost everything are able to rebuild and recover and restore their lives. I also hope those who have been injured fighting the fires will fully recover, and that the poor souls who couldn’t get out in time will be mourned.

It is our duty as human beings to help others that are hurting whenever we can. Those of us far from the action, who can’t go and feed people, and who can’t donate clothes (not in time to get there), but want to do something need to look at places like legitimate animal rescues (as many pets have been separated from their owners and need to be housed and fed and cared for) along with whatever the Los Angeles Fire Department recommends.

It may be — is — Hell on Earth out there. But we have to try to make it better if we possibly can, because as the saying goes, “There but for the grace of God go I.”

Written by Barb Caffrey

January 14, 2025 at 5:05 am

Posted in Community Activism, heartbreaking stories, in general, Prescient observations

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Kindness Matters…Still

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So far, 2025 as a year has not been kind to most of us. There is so much going on that’s awful…whether it’s politicians saying things that are nonsensical (not just United States politicians, either), wildfires breaking out and causing sudden evacuations in California, the colder-than-cold winter (caused so far by relatively high humidity, at least in Southeastern Wisconsin, along with the cold temps, making this the type of cold weather that chills one to the bone), it can be hard to find good things to talk about.

Good things still happen, though. They happen all the time.

Here’s one good thing that happened to me last weekend. I had just finished shopping for food and had a sudden craving for onion rings. (I hadn’t had them in over a year.) I went to a Burger King and ordered what I could afford: a medium-sized order of onion rings and a value soda. To my surprise, the cashier gave me a large-sized order of onion rings plus the soda, and didn’t charge me anything.

I was perplexed, and asked her again if she wanted the money I’d planned to spend. She said, “May you have a blessed day” and refused my money. I said, “May you have one also! Thank you!” and drove off with a smile on my face.

I have to say those onion rings are probably the best I’ve ever tasted, too.

I also read, today, the story of actor Steve Guttenberg’s actions out in California. He’s now sixty-six years old and is known mostly for the series of films starting with “Police Academy.” I hadn’t thought about him in years, though he’s an excellent comic actor…anyway, Guttenberg’s actions during the current crop of awful wildfires out in California have been exemplary. He has said — my best approximation — that if you are able-bodied, or if you are able at all, you need to help others.

See, the wildfires are so bad out there that people have been leaving their cars with the keys inside, just trying to get away. Some of the folks who’ve had to do this are older, or are mobility impaired (as I am), and Guttenberg dislikes it when people just act like they’re all for themselves and forget about everyone else. He has pointed out that this is a community of people, and they all need help. He’s going to stay there and help as long as he can, because he’s a human being and he cares.

Maybe as many as ten years ago, or fifteen years ago, this would not have been a story, even though it happened to a well-known actor. It is now because so many people have forgotten the axiom “one hand for the self, one hand for the ship.” (My father was in the U.S. Navy, as I’ve said before, and that was one of his favorite sayings ever.)

Mind you, “so many people” is still a minority rather than a majority, thank goodness, or we’d not see actions like those of Steve Guttenberg. Or of the cashier at Burger King, either, for that matter.

So, as you go about your week, keep this in mind: Kindness matters. (Still.) Do your best to be kind, help others, and treat everyone the way you want to be treated: with respect and dignity. That’s what’s needed in this world, now more than ever…and that’s why I wrote this blog, because I was so happy to see it.

Written by Barb Caffrey

January 8, 2025 at 4:23 pm

Posted in Heartwarming stories, in general, Prescient observations

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Illness, Thanksgiving, and Observing My Late Father’s Birthday

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My father was born around Thanksgiving, and even before I knew how to understand things like months, days, and years, I knew as early as three years old that if Thanksgiving was coming, Dad’s birthday would be soon.

Of course, Dad died last year about a month shy of his 87th birthday. Had he lived this long, he’d have turned 88.

There are so many things that have happened in the past year that would’ve pleased him. There were other things that would really have upset him, including the national uptick of bad behavior, rudeness, and obnoxiousness. In some quarters, it now seems perfectly acceptable to treat others with disdain, disrespect, and, quite frankly, dishonor.

Dad was a proud veteran of the United States Navy, and watching the country devolve into chaos would not have been his thing. The pandemic was more than bad enough as it brought out the worst in a whole lot of people that seemingly hasn’t gone away since.

Mind you, there are still many wonderful people out there. I think the majority of people in the United States, as well as around the world, are good, caring, decent, honorable, and kind-hearted people who want only to live and let live. We hear about the others because they are aberrations. But there seem to be more and more of them, and you see this sort of bad behavior everywhere nowadays. On the highways, with road-rage incidents and people shooting at each other. In the grocery store, where I’ve seen several fights break out over the years — more in the last few by far. Really, anywhere a person can congregate with another, including churches, mosques, or other buildings meant for faithful people to enjoy their religion/religious beliefs and others in their congregation, can hold a mass shooter.

Other countries do not put up with this, but the US does. I don’t know why. I’ve written about it many times over the years, and I’ll probably write about it even more when the next unthinkable incident happens.

It’s because of knowing this, along with observing my father’s birthday soon and then Thanksgiving later this week, that I have a hard time finding the blessings there still are.

But there are blessings. As I said, there are good people out there. The scenery can be beautiful. I’m fortunate that I live near Lake Michigan — it’s only a few short miles away — and I can gaze out at it any time of the year and gain some peace from that. Books have always been my salvation, too. Plus, I ponder a lot of moral conundrums, as it’s been my lot in life to be a spiritual seeker rather than a follower of any one religion. (I consider myself a NeoPagan, which most of you reading probably already know. But I read the Bible often for its beauty and elegance and feel it holds a lot of truth within it. I’ve also read translations of the Koran and some of the Bhavagad Gita, though not much of the latter stuck.) I consider Buddhism, as it was my late husband Michael’s practice, and try to let whatever part I can absorb infuse my soul with meaning and purpose. (That sounds odd, doesn’t it? Best I can do right now, though.) I have enjoyed reading about the Stoics and their movement of Stoicism, which isn’t exactly what we Americans think it was…yes, they believed in what one Star Trek writer called “mastery of the unavoidable,” but they didn’t believe you shouldn’t feel. They actually believed more along the lines of “don’t let the bad things throw you, as we all have bad things happen in our lives. What can we gain from life besides the bad things?”

Thanksgiving is a time to honor family, friends, and loved ones, past or present. I do plan to see my family, despite the fact I’m quite ill right now and have been for weeks.

(Some of you may be thinking, “Barb, what took you so long to talk about the illness you’re enduring?” I’m getting to that.)

About two weeks ago, I’d called my doctor’s office about my asthma, the fact my throat was sore, and that my allergies were acting up. I was seen, and told that it was most likely viral bronchitis. If I was still sick in a week, I should go back and be seen or walk into urgent care if it was a weekend.

So, yesterday, as I was still quite ill, I walked into urgent care. I was told I had an acute asthma exacerbation — thus the bronchospasms and bronchitis — along with a particularly wicked sinus infection that was spreading to my ears. I had so much fatigue that walking from my car to the house required several stops to rest, and that’s all wrong. I was very frightened by all of this, which I’ll admit here…I also didn’t want to eat anything, though I was still trying to eat, as my throat hurt so bad I could barely swallow.

I was using all my tricks to amp up my appetite, including drinking diet soda before and during meals. (For some reason, diet soda raises my appetite. I guess I’m not the only one this happens to, but I don’t know how frequently it happens to others.) During meals, I often drink diet soda or some other carbonated beverage in order to be able to swallow the food. (Two endoscopies have been performed in the last ten years to find out why this is and no one has any idea.) Plus, I knew that without food, I’d have no energy with which to heal myself.

Because I’ve got so many friends and family on the Other Side now, and fewer remain on this side, I thought a lot about why I continued to fight to stay on this plane of existence. Yes, I feel I have unfinished business. Yes, there’s editing to do. Yes, I’ve got I don’t know how many books in me to finish plus at least seven stories at work either singly or in collaboration with my friend Gail Sanders. Yes, my family needs me, and yes, I hope someday that I’ll find some nice man that can tolerate me (better yet, light up at the sight of me and enjoy all our interactions, but first things first) and that I can tolerate in return (again, I want a lot more than tolerance, but I tell myself, “Patience, grasshopper” in my best Kwai Chang Kane voice).

Still. My chest hurt so bad it was like a vise was around it. I couldn’t get a good breath. My cough was unproductive in the extreme, though intermittent. And until yesterday, I had been told it was viral and that I couldn’t do anything about it other than put up with it and hope it went away.

I’m fortunate that I still have medical insurance, though I wonder for how much longer. That said, I had it now, and I was able to get the medication I needed at a lower price than I’d have paid on my own after I was diagnosed with acute asthma exacerbation driving the bronchitis and a wicked sinus infection driving everything else.

Just knowing what’s wrong helps. Being able to take some medicine (in this case, antibiotics and steroids) that I know will work has improved my attitude overall, to the point I can at least come to my blog and write/talk about it.

I’m glad that the US still believes in helping those in need, those who are not as fortunate as others (I, a disabled, long-time and still youthful widow, count in that category). But the uptick in bad behavior has me concerned. If we as a country go all in for “I’ve got mine, to Hell with you!” we are doomed.

I think most of us want the US to be a strong and safe country with leaders that make sense and try to do the people’s bidding rather than go off on tangents and only fix their own, personal hobbyhorses. I also hope and pray that people in the US, as well as around the world, will know that putting someone else down does not make you rise up. It instead lowers you to your enemy’s level.

This has been a long blog. But it all weighs on me. Dad’s impending birthday, that I’ll probably celebrate out at the cemetery where he’s buried. Thanksgiving, where half the country seems to hate the other half. This illness, which came too close to me just saying, “OK, if my time’s up, it’s up.” (When you can’t breathe well, you can’t think, you don’t really have much in the way of energy as I said before, and trying to find positives seems like a Herculean effort.)

I hope those of you who are ill right now, in body, mind, or spirit will know that you are worth it whether anyone else knows it or not. I also hope that this Thanksgiving will be one of reconciliation and kindness. Somehow.

If you want to light a candle, though, please do it. Pray for peace, especially in the Middle East and the Ukraine. Pray for wisdom among our elected leaders. Pray for strength for ourselves, and healing, too. Pray for the downtrodden, those marginalized by bad circumstances, by faults not their own, and pray their situations get better. (Here I’m thinking about the Sudan, much of the problems Middle Eastern women have, and other such things along with the prosaic.)

If you want to add to your prayers, say a prayer for my father, who I hope is in Heaven/the positive afterlife of his choice now. Or you could even say one for me, and I can’t stop you…(I know it’s a weak joke, but that’s all I’ve got right now).

Please have the best Thanksgiving holiday you can, though. Try to find the good in your relatives, even if they are difficult and insist on only the choicest cuts of turkey and hog all the dressing to themselves. (You can always wait until they get up to use the bathroom and grab the rest of the dressing if they refuse to give it up, you know.)

Find meaning and purpose however you can. Remember, don’t spread vitriol, and do be kind to others.

That’s what I want this week. That’s what I want always.

Written by Barb Caffrey

November 25, 2024 at 6:06 am

Posted in holiday stuff, in general, Persistence, Prescient observations, Remembrance, Truly horrible behavior, vicious people doing stupid, vicious things

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Musing on Life’s Purpose

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There’s a lot of angst right now, partly due to election season and partly because of other factors. But we all need to realize this: We have a purpose in this life even if we don’t know what it is.

If we can do one good thing for someone else, just one, that can move mountains in time. It doesn’t seem like it. It’s maybe an incremental change, rather than a sweeping one…but doing something good for someone else just because is one of the best virtues I know.

The way I define success is, “Did you make any positive difference for anyone?” And, honestly, I think most of us do. We’re not perfect by any means, but most of us try to be good to others, at least some of the time — or to help someone we don’t know, because it’s needed in that moment.

I’ve run into a lot of different things in my life that have changed the course of it significantly. Some were very good, such as meeting and marrying Michael, my late husband. Some were not good. Some were just plain bad, in fact. But when you look back on your life, you can sometimes find small moments that made a huge difference.

My small moment was this: I had been divorced, I’d just gotten out of a relationship that hadn’t gone the way I’d hoped, and then I met Michael. I had a choice: could I open my heart to him, despite how badly I’d been hurt? Or was I going to just drown in the sorrow of it all?

I chose the risk. I opened my heart.

As difficult as it has been to be without Michael all these years since his passing, it would’ve been far, far worse for me to have stayed closed and to have kept Michael at arm’s length. I’d have missed out on great love, happiness, true understanding…the two of us wanted to be around each other, wanted to make each other’s lives better. We could talk about anything for hours. We could sometimes even sit in silence, holding hands, looking at one another, and be perfectly content.

I was right to choose the risk. But no one would’ve blamed me (except myself, of course) had I said, “I have had enough of men, thank you!” and not done so.

The main reason I fight so hard to make any sort of positive difference I can in this life is that I believe Michael being in my life at all was a miracle. I know that has to sound very odd, maybe even a bit woo-woo/out there. But it’s what I believe.

So, if I had turned my face to the wall (metaphorically speaking) years ago, and not opened my heart, I’d have missed out on that miracle. I am glad I didn’t miss out.

For those of you who are hurting for various reasons, I hope you can take some comfort in the fact that you are not alone. Good human beings care about one another and try to help when they can. (I know I’ve been overloaded lately, as I said in my last blog. But I still try to do something, anything, that’s positive, even if it’s just wishing the cashier at the market a good day and telling them they did a great job.) Good human beings notice when you’re making your best effort, and that does matter.

It may seem like it doesn’t. But don’t believe that.

Believe that you are worthy. Worthy of love, worthy of friendship, worthy of understanding, care, and concern.

Don’t let anyone, ever, grind you down into nothing. You are worth more than that.

Written by Barb Caffrey

November 7, 2024 at 4:48 am

Posted in Faith, friendship, in general, Informational Stuff, Inspirational stuff, Michael B. Caffrey, Persistence, Prescient observations, Writing

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The Appalachian Crisis, Courtesy of Hurricane Helene

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Right now, people in Appalachia are suffering due to the aftermath of Hurricane Helene. (Any US newspaper will have details.) Being up in the mountains wasn’t as beneficial as it usually is due to the heavy rainfall. Some homes washed away completely. So did streets, major highways, all sorts of thoroughfares…the people who managed to get out with their families (including their pets) have said they know how lucky they were to do it.

You may be wondering why this blog is focused only on Appalachia. Of course Florida got hit, too. Most of the people in Florida, though, knew what to do to either shelter in place or leave before the storm ever showed up. That wasn’t the case in Appalachia for the most part, especially in rural North Carolina and rural Virginia. North Carolina got hit especially hard, and the first responders are having a very difficult time getting help to those who need it. (Basically, until proven otherwise, everyone’s going to be presumed to need help.)

I am aware of the devastation a flash flood can bring, even a much smaller one that was not caused by a hurricane. That’s because years ago, in Colorado Springs, I was in the midst of one. I had a very small car back then, a hatchback that seated two people (there was a quasi-backseat, but that was only if you folded it down.) I managed to get through an intersection just as it was starting to flood out. I saw later that people had not made it through the intersection behind me, in bigger cars than mine, and had to be rescued from the tops of their cars by helicopters or even by canoes. This flood was bad, was sudden, and there was property damage…but fortunately, no one lost their lives. And within a few days, you’d have never known the area had flooded out.

My experience happened before the widespread use of cellular phones. (And yes, that’s what they were called back then. No shortening to “cell” just yet.) But people were told to stay off the phone lines for the duration of the emergency, and if they were able to go home safely, they should. (I saw all the coverage of the storm, with people getting picked up from the tops of their cars, etc., because of the evening news.) The other things people were told to do were commonsensical: Stay out of the way of the first responders, go home and stay home, and wait to hear if and when you could return to work in that area (or at least drive through it safely).

Right now, such commonsensical things aren’t able to be applied, for the most part, because Appalachia (the mountains and surrounding region) goes through fourteen states on the East Coast. It’s mostly rural. People up there are self-sufficient to a fault. They didn’t get the word early enough that this was going to be an especially bad storm and it would affect them high in the mountains…but even if they had, they might not have been able to get out. Many communities in North Carolina in particular have been described as having few ways to get in and out, and some of the ways people could get up to those rural places was on major highways (some now washed out) with bridges (down or washed completely away) and other such things needed to get them out.

I can’t tell how much road rebuilding will be necessary, except “a lot” from this distance. I am worried, though, because with cell towers down, no electricity, many cars and trucks washed away, houses destroyed, there’s no way to find out except by going door to door — and by using bicycles, of all things — who’s alive, who’s not, and who needs help. (See what I said before, though. Until proven otherwise…everyone needs help.)

If you have family or friends in that area and they’ve not checked in, the authorities are telling people to text. Not call. Text, because it’s more likely to get through. Text also doesn’t clog the emergency lines as much.

Food, water, medical supplies, and other things will be needed in the upcoming days. It may take months or even years to bring back all that was lost — at least, the buildings, the infrastructure, and the roads. People in Swannanoa, NC, which mostly got obliterated, are already vowing to rebuild. Their families came from there, generations back, and they do not want to move. Other communities either have said or will say much the same thing.

At any rate, while I worry about my friends in Florida, I know they have a good idea of what emergency services there are, they knew how to plan for a week or more without power, and the state government usually seems to do a good job at getting things up and running again.

None of that — absolutely none — can be said for these poor rural communities in Appalachia. Most had no idea how bad Hurricane Helene was going to be. There were no plans to get people extra food or water beforehand (or lay in some at the nearest church or community center). No procedures in place for any of this, as it’s not happened before that far up in the mountains.

The cities in North Carolina were much more prepared than the small towns and hamlets. The coastal areas were much more prepared, too. The former, because they had procedures in place; the latter, because they’ve seen some of this before.

At the moment, all I can do is pray for those folks up there who haven’t been found, but are alive — hungry, thirsty, perhaps needing medicine desperately, but alive. I hope they will be found quickly, they will get the medication they need, they will be fed, clothed, sheltered, and given as much water as they’re able to drink.

This is so new to the folks up there that there’s no widespread call as of yet for help. The ability to ask for help isn’t there in some places. In others, maybe they can ask, but they’re worried they won’t get it…I’m pretty sure the National Guard will be mobilized, and the Reservists may get called up as well, as people are going to be needed in a big way to help others and rebuild roads and bridges.

So, the TL;DR of it all is: If you have family up there, text them. Don’t call. Leave the lines open as much as possible for the emergency responders. Look for ways to help the people suffering in Appalachia, as that’s the only thing we can do as presumably civilized people — helping others is what we need to do, to prove that we are human, we care, and that if at all possible we’ll get them on their feet again. And pray. Pray. Pray.

Written by Barb Caffrey

October 1, 2024 at 6:36 am

Posted in heartbreaking stories, in general, Informational Stuff

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