Most people do not expect a 79 year old man, a 100% disabled veteran from service during the Korean conflict, who has been totally blind for over 40 years, to work. I still work everyday because the tax collectors who regularly pick my pockets are not the least bit interested in my welfare, only hoping that I will stay alive to pay taxes, never ask for anything, never use any public facilities such as parks, libraries, concert halls, or their wonderful and comfortable prisons. Do you ever go to a county, city, or other government agency for anything and think to yourself 'are these people just paid to sleep.' I went to the tax department of the county in which i live paying someone to lead me around, office after office, I was told to go to another place. The person leading me around said, 'You can't see but I have not seen anyone yet doing any work, most are just sitting behind a desk eating or talking on the phone and it certainly is not government business they are talking about.' Finally on the top floor, talking to a woman who my driver said was about the size of a refrigerator, who, incidentally, was feeding her face. She said 'well your tax bill was sent to the wrong address but we will make sure your fine goes to the correct address.'
In retail, where people evidently need jobs are paid by an employer to accommodate people with their needs, people seem to believe that they are paid to be nasty or that there is a nasty contest going on in the business. Many restaurants with employees such as these, will be closing, because in hard economic times people that can not afford to eat out will be doing more 'home cooking'. And even the most desperate eaters will reconsider the size of their tip.
Just today, Jan. 19th 2009, after spending the entire weekend (the coldest weather this state has seen in a century) without heat after just 2 weeks ago I had paid too much money to a local H VAC company to check out my system just in case something like this would happen. The repairman who came over after my frigid weekend said that the wrong parts had been put in my system. So, again now, I have bought new parts for my system, and I have another repair bill almost double the one of two weeks ago. This same company had been paid many thousands of dollars last year for other of my real estate repairs. There was a time, when a man such as me, who had worked hard enough to own much property, a company would try to keep him pleased in order to keep his business, not so anymore. Much like those small tourist traps on Lexington Avenue and Canal Street in NYC, where newcomers to the city often shopped ('we will never see you again so we take you while we can') How well I remember going into a camera store on Lexington Avenue to have my Pentax camera repaired before I went on my round the world trip, and stupid blind me thought the criminal had put a new battery in my camera. I had a small problem with my camera in, of all places, Agra, India, and this employee in a camera shop about the size of an Indian armchair said ' sir there is no battery in your camera'. I always had 5 cameras in my camera bag. Of course, not one pic made with the Pentax was any good.
My only child, my son and his family, were on the foreign mission field for many years. One of my best friends for many years was the Baptist missionary Harold Stevens, now deceased, who was completely committed to the continent of Africa. He would always visit when on furlough. But he said ' Our greatest problem in reaching people for Christ in Africa is they have through music, magazines, television, and minor contact, have seen too much of 'Christian America' .' In India, I visited the home of Mohandas Gandhi, I stood by the cremation memorial on the banks of the Ganges. A man who could have led multiple millions of Hindus to Christ is reported to have said 'I would have been a Christian if I had not known so many Christians.'
My missionary son, who has spent a fortune as a student of science, medicine, and two theology doctorates, who, when I listen to him preach, I thank God that he is as good in speaking as his father. He has a marvelous delivery and I believe his sincerity is obvious to those that hear. As one who studied medicine, I have not forgotten when he told me that new believers, those have accepted an all powerful, all knowing God, in time of sickness always pray first. Most of my patients, most of my family and friends, always run to the doctor first, to the drugstore second with an expensive prescription, and only resort to prayer and God when all else has failed. When I observe Communion, our Lord's Supper, the only thing we are told whereby to remember him, I sincerely believe that 'But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.' (Isaiah 53:5) Over 700 years later the Apostle Peter said, we are different ' Forasmuch then as Christ hath suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves likewise with the same mind: for he that hath suffered in the flesh hath ceased from sin; That he no longer should live the rest of his time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to the will of God. ' (1 Peter 4:1-2)
About one year ago, my internist, trying for accuracy, referred me to a nephrologist. When I arrived for my appointment, my driver said, this is the first day in their new building. He sat next to me and described all the expensive paintings adorning the walls of this new building. The only problem with the building and its location, was the employees who from the first to the last in my activity there were just 'going through the motions'. Of all the health care employees I have encountered as a long active health care practitioner as well as patient in a long lifespan, these were the most lackadaisical, perhaps this is expected in a military hospital situation where the enlisted personnel are just counting the days until discharge and where their monthly pay is not in anyway determined by their attitude or performance. As an Army medical service officer in all ranks, in all specialties, I encountered some of the best and the worst when it came to the treatment of military personnel and their dependents. Probably, in my service records, Colonel Marx, Chief of Staff of one Army hospital , who was just an alcoholic ne'er-do-well, awaiting his retirement, gave me orders to inspect the hospital. As a young First LT., I thought inspection meant inspection. Evidently, heretofore, the hospital inspector just walked from one clinic or department to another as a 'good ole boy' trying to increase his friendships and influence people. (Dale Carnegie)
When I went to the hospital dining area, went into the kitchens of the hospital, and, for instance, did not even find soap in the washrooms, got up on a chair and inspected the coffee makers, and found the same kind of crud there that I had found elsewhere in the kitchen I put such on my report. When I went into the closets of the wards and found brooms, I asked the Sergeant or nurse in charge, ' why do you have brooms, hospital floors are only suppose to be mopped.' Anything you do in a hospital to spread or encase microbes such as overstuffed chairs has always been prohibited. I almost died from staph infection from the local county hospital here because the hospital still used over stuffed chairs, carpets in hallways, and germ laden draperies on windows. Of course, the hospital commander did not like my inspection report. The mess officer never spoke to me again the entire time I was assigned to that hospital. Since the inspection report was required to go to Third Army headquarters (and I have just cited a few of the problems), Third Army threatened to close down the hospital. But there, as elsewhere anywhere in American society today most 'just go through the motions'
My last day as duty officer, as a military medical officer at just one Army hospital, I witnessed the death of one former Army Surgeon General from incompetence. I sent an ambulance to a barracks to bring over a woman military WAC (Woman's Army Corp) who had given birth to a baby in the barracks, who had kept her pregnancy completely secret from everyone in the military, The mother and baby survived in fine order. There was much pomp and circumstance for the General's funeral at the post chapel. All were just going through the motions.
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