Kindred spirits.

I got groceries on my lunch hour today. As I was loading them in my car I could hear a car pull up behind me and a woman's voice hollering out of the car. Honest to God here is what she said, "Hey! I'll bet you're really going to miss your car when the time comes that you have to get rid of it, aren't you? They just don't make they like this any more, do they?" Keep in mind, I drive a 1986 beige Ford Taurus STATION WAGON. I turned around to see who was speaking to me and there is a very happy, pleasant woman sitting in a white Ford Taurus station wagon. She was completely serious and very much convinced that the cars we owned were the very best. My first thought was, "Yeah, like you miss lice when they are gone" but I quickly tried to suck that thought back in.

While I don't LOVE my car the way my new friend does, I do love the fact that it A) runs B) is paid for C) costs almost nothing to insure or get plates for and D) is fairly reliable. I hate spending money on transportation. My car gets me to the places I want to go to spend money. :-) Cars always comes with repairs also. You can either have a car payment and repair bills or own your car out right and have repair bills. Also, I enjoy taking my car in to get fixed because the place I take it, Global Auto, is the best. I've taken my cars there for over 10 years and wouldn't go anywhere else. When I head to Indy and my car starts making a funny noise I always pray that it makes it back to Warsaw because I don't want any other mechanic touching it. Maybe my 1986 wagon goes in the shop more often than a newer car, but that would mean less chances to catch up a bit with Sharon, the owner, and that would be a bummer.

The very happy person in the car had one more parting comment. She finished by yelling out the window, "and I love all the stickers! I do that also!!!!!!" And she drove away. While not quite as fully decorated as the back of mine, her station wagon's trunk was sticker laden also.

So there you go. Perhaps the happiest station wagon owner in the world, and I had the pleasure of running into her today!

Oh, come on.....really?

Reality TV is one of my guilty pleasures. I know that most of it is staged, but I still love watching people put into unnatural circumstances and seeing how they react. I'm most amazed when there is a million bucks on the line and people can't curb their more aggressive habits long enough to make friends with the other contestants. Last night I was watching Celebrity Apprentice and Brett Michaels is one of the "celebrities". When I heard he was going to be on I made a mental note. He's a lifelong diabetic and I was hoping they would show a diabetic being a "real diabetic".

Hollywood has done a ridiculous job of portraying diabetics. The most famous one was Julia Roberts in Steel Magnolias. Sure, sure, sure there are diabetics out there who have such severe insulin reactions that they have convulsions, but there is a much better way to deal with it than what the mother did in the movie. You don't pour orange juice into the mouth of someone who is convulsing. You either carry a shot designed to quickly administer sugar, or you carry a quick acting gel that can be squirted into your mouth that doesn't involve needing to swallow. Orange juice is just going to do what it did in the movie. Spill and make a mess.

Most of the time when the writer needs a "really desperate, down to the wire" condition, they throw in the token diabetic and create a situation where the person is separated from their insulin. Usually a kidnapping or intruder or something a long that line is involved. The thing that always gets me is that they always create a situation where the diabetic's insulin is unobtainable and then 2 hours later the person is in a really dire situation. It is so off base. Being without your insulin for a few hours isn't good, but it won't kill you. Or create vague and non-diagnosable conditions. Con-Air is a good example of that type of bad portrayal.

Panic Room is another movie where the unbelievable happened. The daughter in the movie was diabetic and she had the good fortune to have a device that she wore on her wrist, similar to a watch that automatically gave a constant reading of her blood sugar levels. No finger pricks, no blood, just a magic watch. Please. There is no such magic watch.

So, back to reality TV land and Brett Michaels. On the first episode he was in a situation where he had a full, busy day. His team had to do something or other in a diner to raise money for charity. He missed lunch and his blood sugar was low. They showed him off to the side guzzling a Coke. So far so good. It was spot on. The next few episodes progress reasonably well, and then last night was the kicker. Brett is upset because he gets a call from his daughter (9 years old) and they suspect she has diabetes so she is going to the Dr. to get tested. Brett is understandably upset and then proceeds to say that it will be a while before they get the results. It could be 2 days or 2 weeks. Whatever. While it is true that if your blood has to go a lab you might have to wait for the results, but no where in America does it need to take 2 weeks to find out if you are diabetic. There is a simple machine called a glucometer that every diabetic has. Some have several. They are inexpensive. Sometimes they show up in your mail absolutely free. The manufacturer knows that if you own their machine you have to purchase their test strips and that is where the real money can be made.

I'm guessing a big rock star like Mr. Michaels has many glucometers that someone can access and give his daughter a simple prick on her finger. She can have the results in 5 seconds. Not as in depth a report as blood coming back from the lab, but you either have it or you don't. Your blood sugar is either high or it isn't.

Sigh. It is insulting to have something a serious as diabetes be edited in such a sensational way. It also makes me wonder how many other things on TV are this far off base. Next you're going to tell me we really are in a recession.

Fuzzy Math...

This weekend while eating dinner with my nephew (8) and niece (6) I got to participate in this gem of a conversation. Katlyn got confused and started rattling off a string of numbers. "2 plus 2 and add another 2 is 4" she proudly announced. Colby was quick to correct her and feeling superior began questioning her on math that was way beyond her little 6 year old comprehension. "What is 10 plus 10?" She answered "15". He chuckled. "What is 30 plus 10" he continued. She answered, "I don't even know the answer to that!"

I could see where this was headed so I tried to help her out. I prompted her to ask him something about Barbie. Right away she triumphantly fired off a question. "What year was it when the first Barbie came out?" I was impressed how quickly she could think on her feet. Colby, predictably, was stumped and said "I don't know, what year was it?" We both waited for her answer. She looked right back and again said, "I don't even know the answer to that!"

Sigh. Poor sweet, little Kate. She didn't quite get where I was going!! :-)