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November 5, 2021 November 12, 2021 AJ
At the Centre of Things
Image Source: The Guardian
Every waking minute of the past few weeks it seems has been filled with some nursery rhyme or the other, so much so that deep in my less wakeful moments, I have caught myself humming along to some tune or another. Chief of them has to be the ten in a bed one where a particularly bossy kid shoos off the others who end up in a pile beside the bed nursing various bumps and scrapes. Sometimes it has felt like there are an infinite number of ways this can happen, although the mathematics suggest that there is only one way to do that, if that particular order is maintained. All of this is long way to say that L is very much at the centre of things with sleep, if I can go out for a run in the morning and other such mundane things very much dependent on what state she wakes up in.
I would like to think that being the well adjusted, finely tuned primate that I am makes me the very epitome of a caring parent but the truth is that there are days when all I want with every fibre of my being is to ignore whatever plea for help is emanating from her crib and get some extra precious minutes of sleep, particularly on work days. Most days I don't yield to my internal lazy boy but what I will admit is that I have begun to look forward to my forty-minute commute to work on the bus. That has begun to feel like an island of sanity, keeping the chaos of home away from the madness of work. Small mercies.
June 25, 2021 October 31, 2021 AJ
World, Meet L
Photo by Marcel Fagin on Unsplash
As I write this I am looking out of my window onto the lush greenery of the park across the road in the tiny corner of South Yorkshire in which I am currently ensconced, as different from the edge of the world in which I have spent the last eleven months as it could be. For 45 degree Celsius and 90% plus humidity, I give you a bone-chilling 14 degrees Celsius with more than the odd spattering of rain; a mild Yorkshire summer by all accounts I am told.
Somewhere within the transition from the edge of the world to Dee Dah land, we welcomed L into this one, a tiny bundle of joy – and terror – rolled into one. In the interest of full disclosure, my first choice of name was Aoife. Thankfully the other part of the unit is eminently more sensible than yours truly. Her big cousin M thinks she, L, is living the life, being cuddled, fed and cleaned on demand without seemingly a care in the world. Being one of those wrapped tightly around her little finger, I couldn't agree more!
Not to say all of this has been smooth sailing. What little sleep I normally get is even more fractured now, being held hostage to the whims of wails for food and cleaning at the most ungodly of hours. That this leaves me less than lucid for the first few hours of the morning until strong cups of coffee begin to work their magic is the predictable outcome. All too soon it is nightfall and we begin the cycle again.
A couple of ICU trips for S in the middle of all of this set the cat among the pigeons for a bit, further complicating things somewhat. From the vantage point of a clear head from just over five hours sleep, it feels like some breathing space is coming up. The arrival, quite frankly out of the blue, of the calvary, read Grand Ma, only serves to reinforce that belief.
One of the few things I recall from the haze of the hardest bits a week or so ago is thinking about how questions about the sovereignty of God have a different heft when what is at stake is the life of your near and dear ones, not merely an academic proposition. This is a thought I think I will return to in the near future when some proper room to breathe (and contemplate) returns. On the evidence of the past few days that may not be any time soon but what is clear is that it truly takes a village, or two.
November 14, 2017 January 7, 2020 AJ
The Diary: The Paphos Files
The first bits of Cyprus we glimpsed as our flight began the descent towards Paphos were wind turbines slowly turning in what must have been a slight evening breeze, and houses which from the height looked like small, matchboxes pressed into the sides of the hilly terrain below us. Although it was only 5.20pm local time, it was quickly growing dark, which at first seemed odd until I realised just how much closer to the equator we were here than in England from where we were arriving. This trip to Cyprus was at the instance of S, ten days in Paphos being her idea of a honeymoon. The hope was to get the chance to catch our breaths after what had been a whirlwind three weeks in which we had managed to get hitched without losing our minds; the pressure of a large Nigerian wedding notwithstanding.
Having the main events on the other side of town in rural England – as far removed from our usual haunts as could be – added a layer of complexity to everything, that in retrospect we could have done without. The miracle in all of that was that friends and family rallied – some at particularly short notice, and braving the worst of the M25 and Dartford crossing traffic on the day – to be part of the events and support us. As we headed into Paphos, the overwhelming desire was to kick back and de-stress from all of that.
Before all of that kicking back and chilling could begin, there was the small matter of navigating passport checks and customs. Although I had the requisite approvals in my Nigerian passport, it still took in excess of ten minutes – and a couple of phone calls by the fellow at the desk – for my passport to be checked and then stamped. Only then could S and I head on to the baggage area and pick up our bags; she being British had no such problems. It was a warm 22 degrees C even at that time of the day, and importantly dry, with none of the chill from the wind that had hastened our arrival and helped claw back some of the lost time from our flight from Gatwick being delayed.
Bags in hand and through customs, we found our designated driver – he had our names on a card held high above his head – waited a bit at a Costa Coffee for the rest of our party to arrive and eventually headed out into town. That allowed me to take in my surroundings at the airport, the overwhelming sense being one of being somewhat pleasantly surprised by the absence of any of that in-your-face first world glitter that airports around the Western world often portray. Our hotel, the King Evelthon, was a relatively recent addition to the Paphos holiday resort scene and just beyond the city limits – sculptures of the Greek letter ρ marking these. From arrival to the hotel and then dinner took all of two hours, including the wait. Not bad, given we needed to tuck into dinner having steadfastly refused the prodding of the cabin crew to pony up the extra cash required to buy a meal on board.
Having finally managed to get out of our travel soaked clothes and then get some sleep, we woke up to the sight of glorious sunshine already streaming in. Looking through the doors into the pool – we had been upgraded to a swim-up room – the sense was very much one of being a holiday resort, complete with all the trappings. In the distance, the lonesome hulk of a rusty brown ship loomed. I would later find out that there was some history to it, it being the MV Demetrios II. When we finally dragged ourselves out of bed for a hearty breakfast and were ready to head out, we hopped onto the 615 towards the Paphos harbour for a bit of sightseeing.
We found the harbour area a beehive of activity with buskers, hustlers and traders all keen to interest us in their wares. In the end, we plumped for a glass-bottomed boat ride around the harbour and picked up a flyer for the wave dancers suite of cruises from the Paphos Harbour. The glass-bottomed boat ride ended up a damp squib of sorts – there was nothing of note to see besides the ruins of the Vera K – but the 90 minute trip around the harbour gave a good view of the coastline all the way up and down. Trip done, we found an ice cream place down the road where we took a much-needed toilet break and three scoops of ice cream each, for the heat. We – read S – liked it so much that we returned on three other separate occasions for ice cream there. A hop-on, hop-off open bus tour topped off this first day, the whistle-stop tour putting Paphos and its size – or lack thereof – into perspective.
Our time in Cyprus was organised around three main all-day events; a jeep safari, a gourmet tour and an all of Cyprus tour. Being the last of the nine passengers to be picked up for the jeep safari, meant we had to make do with being sat apart, S in the middle seat at the back and me perched on the edge of the back seat alongside the others, an older Italian couple, an English couple from Birmingham and three young men from Hungary. Our version of the safari tour took in a drive-through banana plantations, old Turkish and Greek villages, as well as pit stops at a number of other landmarks. In spite of the obvious pride the locals had in their banana plantations it turned out they were neither big enough nor straight enough to meet EU export regulations.
In keeping with the safari theme, much of the driving was on bumpy, rocky roads on which we in the back seat bounced about. The trek up the Avakas Gorge was the first real physical activity I had undertaken since my last 5k on the 18th of October; that showed in my lack of fitness. The trek itself – ours was the abridged version – took in a number of rare bushes and flowers and a number of tiny rivulets; smaller now at the end of a long summer than they would be in the rainier, wetter winter season. Other interesting pit stops along the way were the Aphrodite baths (where Aphrodite used to bathe according to local mythology), the Adonis baths and the blue lagoon where a few of the less intrepid swimmers dove in for a leisurely swim. As we made to leave the Adonis baths, an interesting exchange ensued between the caretaker and I. He called me a chocolate Adonis, warning S to be extra careful overnight, his point being that my brush with the very essence of Adonis at the baths had upped my virility. That made for a few awkward moments between him, S and I, although no offence was meant or taken.
Over the course of the remaining days, we managed to fit in two more all-day tours. The first of these was a gourmet tour that focused on highlighting the food, art and craft of Cyprus, the intent clearly to showcase a rustic Cyprus where life was lived at a leisurely, laid back pace. Pit stops on this tour included a winery where we got to taste a range of locally brewed liquids, an all-female factory where a range of Cypriot sweets were made and a factory where roses were used in everything from chocolate to wine in addition to the usual suspects of perfumed body care products. Elsewhere on the tour, we got to see the Holy Cross church in Omodos and fraternise somewhat with the local silver and glassmakers. Also on the gourmet tour, we discovered Carob, which became the bane of my existence over the next few days, as S tried to score bottles and bars of the ostensibly healthy stuff. The other tour – an all of Cyprus tour – went along similar lines, the highlights being a visit to the capital Nicosia and the view across the green line into Turkish controlled Cyprus from the top of the Ledra observatory and the church of Saint Lazarus (the fellow who died twice).
In between the full day tours, we managed to get three 7k-ish runs in, possible in part because S is a running enthusiast who needs her running fix, and the presence of a coastal path which we learned is a fairly recent addition. The ruins being excavated at the harbour area and the Wave Dancer half day BBQ cruise also help the time pass.
By virtue of its position at the junction of Europe, the Middle East and Africa, Cyprus has had a long and checkered history, with ownership and control changing hands several times. Greeks, Ottomans, Venetians, The French, the Romans – and a few others I can't remember – have all at various times laid claim to the island, leaving their marks in various ways. Greek culture predominates, as does the Turkish military presence in the Northern third of the island, a self-declared Republic which is recognised only by Turkey. There was an opportunity to cross the Green Line and explore a bit of it, but the situation with my Nigerian passport made me wary of crossing any more borders than I needed to.
What I found surprising was a strong undercurrent of Russian influence – like London one of our guides joked on one of the days. I suppose the shared religious history enables this – both the Russian Orthodox and Church of Cyprus are part of the Eastern Orthodox Tradition, making it easier for devout Russians to integrate, and providing a driver for them to visit shared holy spaces – as does the official passport for investment program which provides access to Cyprus and by extension the rest of the EU for €2million. A different guide took great joy in pointing out which of the palatial, stately homes were owned by Russians.
The British influence was more expected, and obvious, given the recent colonial history and the long-running interactions with the island going back to Richard the Lion heart's invasion in the late 1100s. The language and the sunshine does make it one of the prime destinations for Brits looking to retire by the sun and the sea, that they've arrived complete with their own little micro-communities complete with English and Irish pubs suggests there is some impact to the local community, particularly in a town as small as Paphos with 75,000 inhabits.
Thankfully, it wasn't peak season so places like the beach were not filled to the point of bursting at the seams, which made me wonder how this must feel in peak season. I doubt the locals find the influx of tourists as disconcerting as the Barcelona locals do but I got the sense of a mild irritation at times – the eye roll and shrug I shared with an older lady at a shop within the Kings Avenue Mall at a couple rowing over a can of beer at the till being one such.
For all its history, I did get the sense that some of the places we visited over the course of the ten days were not particularly remarkable or deserving of the hype (It might have to do with my lack of culture or just an overt focus on looking to chill and de-stress). That got me thinking of just how much Nigeria could benefit from a concerted effort to clean up its hinterland, make it safer and easier to travel in, and market some of the natural features and historical artefacts. I remember visits to the Obudu Cattle ranch many years ago being the highlight of a team building session at work. Places like the Ikogosi springs, the Ososo tourist centre and carnival come to mind as ones which with a little more focus could be developed further.
All told, the ten days delivered on their promise of providing a place to disconnect from the real world and chill, which is perhaps why the enduring images of Cyprus for me will be narrow roads draped around towering mountains like ribbons – thin, flimsy and barely there, edged on the one side by the faces of the mountains themselves and on the other by vertiginous drops. The irony of this is not lost on me; without the roads, much of these parts would be inaccessible to the wider world which would lose out on all the treasures and delights we had the privilege of seeing over the past few days, but building the roads cannot have been a trivial experience given the terrain. A lot of hard, back-breaking work was clearly required.
That – the delights just out of view over the horizon and the hard work required to get there – is very much like a marriage, S says, on the eve of our return to our new shared life; all the proof I need that she is indeed a wise one.
November 3, 2017 October 30, 2019 AJ
WordPress Photo Challenge: Peek
The view that meets my eye on day 1 of 10 in Paphos, Cyprus. Truly looking forward to chilling and bonding with S, and catching my breath after what has been two weeks lived on the very edge of sanity (A Nigerian Wedding will do that to you).
For the WordPress photo challenge, Peek.
October 17, 2017 AJ
Protected: Honour Thy Father
November 11, 2016 AJ
The Burden of Grief
One of the lingering effects of H's passing is that four times a year, I go through a phase where I especially struggle for words to share with my father. Although triggered by four specific days – her birthday (the 8th of July), their wedding anniversary (the 11th of November), the day she passed (the 19th of July) and the day she was buried (the 8th of August) – these tend to be long drawn out affairs affecting the days leading up to and the days after these days. The struggle takes various forms primarily centred on whether to call my father or not, and on the days when I manage to call him, what to talk about – to keep things as normal as possible or broach the difficult subject of H. He and I have never been the best of conversationalists – we're much too similar for that – but these days make that tenuous relationship an even more difficult one, so much so that on most of these days, I have opted for not calling him in the end.
H's passing does still feel especially raw, even though her's was not the first of which clear memories still remain. For that I have to go all the way back to 1988 and G, the ones the genes took. I distinctly remember the events which led to it; the battle with a crisis and the ensuing hospital admission, and then the knowing once I was called out of my class to Mrs A's office where the neighbour's orange Volkswagen beetle was waiting to whilst myself and T home. The others in between though covering a range of family members – paternal grandparents, my maternal grandmother and a couple of uncles – are comparative blurs in the landscape of my memory. Distinct memories of G's passing notwithstanding, I do not remember the same sense of grieving with her that still lingers with H. It is difficult to define completely the interactions of time, space and connection which make both experiences of grief so markedly different, but if I had to hazard a guess, I would offer up the fact that I was much younger then and that there had been a sense of inevitability to it, given the situation with the genes. I imagine others across a broad spectrum of locations and contexts still feel the weight of the grief with H as keenly as I do, given she interacted with a lot of people across the various interests and causes she supported.
This, the intersection of 'griefs', complicates grieving in the context of ongoing relationships. With my father, these key dates trigger a remembrance – and a reinforcement even – of loss, driving the conundrum that I wrestle with around these dates. Outside these dates, I feel like we have reached a new normal of sorts, one that accepts the reality of loss but focuses on getting on with life as much as possible. These dates disrupt that new normal for me, and drives the sense of there being a disjunction between living normally and remembering. In my head, by refusing to speak to my father on the day – and hence removing the need to speak about H – I am removing an additional trigger of remembrance from him. That at first glance sounds like a good thing but somewhere in my head, I wonder if it is truly as altruistic as it sounds. Not having the difficult conversation is a good thing for me, whether it is for him, and if this stance adequately honours the memory is a different matter altogether. It is this, the balance between living in the new normal and respectfully remembering and honouring the one who has been lost, that is the primary burden of grief, at least in my opinion.
There are also other non-time based triggers which set off the same sort of feelings. The most recent example was in the middle of a conversation with S's parents a few weeks ago. Being the incredibly perceptive people they are, they picked up on how I had studiously managed to bring up the subject of H in the over three hours we had spent catching up at the time, which prompted the question. The uneasy silence which followed my explanation suggested it was a topic they would not have brought up if they had known the context. Perhaps – in typical J fashion – I am overthinking the exchange, but this unease exhibited by others when the subject of H comes up is another one of the burdens of grief. Not only does one have to deal with loss, one also has to deal with the reaction of others to loss.
There are no right or wrong ways to carry these burdens. I suspect that time will continue to chip away at the intensity of the grieving of loss which in turn might lessen the burden it places on relationships. If the last few years are an indication of how the next few might pan out in this regards, it is fair to assume that it will not be as simple as that.
Currently listening to: Mandisa – Lifeline
August 13, 2014 November 1, 2014 AJ
The Way The World Ends: On Loss, and Lostness
It is sometime after 5pm – between chomping down on a very meaty beef burger and swigging from a can of apple juice – that the call comes in. Up until then, I have been having the exact weekend I had in mind when I dragged myself away from work to catch the 727 to Aberdeen Dyce airport a few days earlier: go-karting and then a BBQ, with the prospect of Lakeside shopping with B. to come. The scene is one of self-indulgent relaxation; two grills fully stocked with burgers, chicken drumsticks and barbecue meat on the go, little children running about, wives and girlfriends munching on burgers and sharing intimate gossip moments, and men standing around the grill sipping from cans and surveying the scene – wife, 2.5 kids, picket fence and a few hundred quid to burn on a splurge in tow. It takes a while – probably the better part of ten minutes – before the gravity of the news begins to sink in. When I return to the three-way conversation I was having before the call, B senses there is something wrong. In response to her quizzical look, I motion for her to break out of the conversation and explain what has happened. All told, twenty minutes after hearing the news – give or take – my mood has morphed from indulged, self-congratulation to inner turmoil as I attempt to digest the news in the relative quiet of B's.
It is nearly 10pm before my brain wakes up. I fire an email off to the team leader at work to let him know I'll be out for a couple of weeks, ask the TwitterVerse for pointers to quick tickets for Lagos and call M. for an update on the situation and how A.'s holding up. Twitter delivers – I end up grabbing tickets for a return flight on Arik, as well as get an email from the work asking to be kept in the loop as things evolve. By the time B. hauls me off to my hotel, it is nearly 12.30am – seven hours and some after the news broke. Things are still very fluid at this stage, what is becoming clear is that the next few weeks will be a long hard slog.
The hours between getting the news and reaching a semblance of acceptance pass like a blur, largely in silent contemplation whilst I run over the last weeks' worth of communication with H. The last time we spoke, our conversation had been one of those ones where skirting seriousness was more important than the conversation itself, with barely a nod to the multiplied elephants in the room. It was only the second time we were talking after a big row – certain things we had come to regret had been said – hence the extreme carefulness. With the reality of loss beginning to sink in, the overwhelming feeling is one of lingering regret. With the benefit of hindsight, the time we had – limited unbeknownst to us – would have been better spent focusing on all the things we shared rather than our issues of significant dissent.
I finally get home – after navigating massive delays on the M25, a 90 minute delay on my flight out of Heathrow and having to buy my own toilet paper at MMA to – to pick up on meets and greets. They come in their numbers – an endless stream of people – some come crying, some with choice sound bites in tow, others sit in respectful, contemplative silence.
The numbers passing through are something I struggle with. I have always believed that loss is intensely personal and private, something which has guided my interactions with people in the past. As such whilst the meet and greets are great, my initial reaction to them is one of irritation, considering them a distraction of sorts. When we as the immediate family have a first quick chat to define the expectations for a program of activities, I am in favour of a quick, simple sequence, focused on us and a few good friends. Unfortunately I am in the minority, the consensus that we arrive at is for a program spread over three days with multiple requirements to provide food and refreshments for people who will attend. That seems counterintuitive to me – wasteful even – given the expense involved.
Over the course of the next few weeks my position would soften somewhat. The sort of life that H lived – with interactions across multiple spectra – meant that there were loads of people genuinely feeling a sense of loss. That helps me come to terms with the expanded program being proposed. Others' grief is every bit as real, if less intense as mine.
Looking back, 2014 has been an interesting year in deaths so far. Of the trio of friends A. had in his St John Bosco's College days, he alone remains alive. Of H.'s trio from undergrad, Aunt L alone remains. For those who had not succumbed to the ineluctable call of death, the passage of time is etched in their very bodies – faced deeply lined, sagging body parts and lumbered with aches and pains of varying descriptions. Even the little kids, barely out of their diapers I took care of many years ago, have all morphed into near teens and adults. Placed in the context of my upcoming birthday a few days after I have planned to return, the underlying narrative is one of transience and the inescapable fragility of life.
Being part of planning and executing H.'s final journey allowed me to take a long look back. What was incontrovertible was that H. left a significant legacy. The outpouring of grief, the support in cash and kind that rolled in, and the emotional tributes that were given were proof incontrovertible of that. Her story is one of succeeding against the odds by dint of perseverance and trail blazing – multiple scholarships and prizes academically, noted contributions to world class work over a 34 year career, and a life that was lived in consonance with her Christian worldview. Somewhere in between she met A., who credits the heights that he reached in his own career to the stability she brought to the home front as she kept things running smoothly in the background.
With loss, I find that I swing between three responses. An initial stage of denial where I struggle with accepting the reality of loss and absence, and then when that is no longer a plausible position, I attempt to find a new normal. In tandem with that there is a desire to make sense of our loss, given our, and H's worldview. That life as we know it has changed forever is not in doubt. A. seemed a lot more gaunt than I recall when I first saw him. His eyes were rheumy, and bloodshot – not a lot of sleep and loads of private tears to blame for that. Life as he has known it for more than 40 years has involved H. in some capacity, I worry as to what the new normal for him might be.
With death, 'normal' changes irretrievably. The equilibrium, if one is ever reached, is a new, radically different, dynamic one one with new behaviours, modified expectations and present realities. Someone was, and then is not, the facts are what they are and no equilibrium can change that. For me, finding a new equilibrium revolved around four things – immersing myself in planning for the funeral, spending quality time with the sisters and their children, catching up with B, and reading. I managed to wrap up three books – Paul Carter's Don't Tell Mum I Work on the Rigs, Zadie Smith's On Beauty and Kiran Desai's The Inheritance of Loss.
One morning as we took a breather from the hectic, gruelling pace of planning, my Aunt S stepped into the room which had evolved into a sanctum of sorts for me, my one oasis of quiet amidst the turmoil. There she proceeded to initiate a lengthy conversation around marriage, or more specifically my delay in closing it out. That was a scene that would recur throughout the weekend. Mrs E. put it a little more subtly – hinting that our new normal needed to include a celebration to get us all excited again. In their own way, these were attempts at coping – by attempting to focus their energy and attention on a potential future event, rather than the particularly difficult one at hand.
In tandem with loss in this case was a sense of lostness. My earliest memories of growing up are inextricably linked to H; her bowls of soup and Sunday afternoon cooking marathons the most lucid reminders of how she kept two homes ticking along steadily in two different cities. Given the events of the past few years, and my ever increasing isolation from Nigeria, H. was an essential link to Nigeria. With her gone, there is a sense of even more Lostness. That sense was never more obvious than in my interactions with the extended family, my less than stellar language abilities making difficult conversations even more awkward. There was a sense of nakedness – being thrust out of a protective cocoon into bright, harsh light. What tenuous links that remain were even more weakened by the dysfunction on display. The frustrating, harsh reality of working in the medical profession in Nigeria (by some weird coincidence some two thirds of the family gets their bread and butter from the field) was a subject of numerous conversations. Unlike me, most of the others seemed quite keen to tough it out. The final nail in the coffin of patriotism was delivered on the morning of the funeral. For a chance to take control of the 2,000 naira 'bathing fee', the head of the team of morticians at the morgue somehow contrived to lock up the items we had delivered for preparing the body for burial, preventing the nightshift team from completing the task. That two thirds of the family worked in the self same teaching hospital, and we had made multiple trips to ensure there were no hitches on the day counted for little. One wonders how those without family members working there fare.
The question of loss and what sense there could be made of it was one we wrestled with all through. The biblical narrative suggests that life on earth is infinitesimal compared to life beyond it. Within that context, death is merely a passage to another life, a portal into another space-time continuum. That much was repeated in varying forms over the course of my three weeks by various people. The reality of loss though is a lot more personal, time does blunt the keenness of pain – and helps promote a return to a new normal – but I suppose until time does her work, no amount of philosophising will suffice.
I found the three weeks of conversations, mourning, planning and burying a huge strain. By the time it had all been wrapped up, all I wanted to do was to get away from everything, and begin to breathe again, hence the plan to leave straight after event number three – a thanksgiving service in church. When time to leave finally came, I found it difficult to up sticks and just leave. Three weeks were the most I had spent bonding with my family in more than ten years – since before my UX5 days. Nearly an hour behind plan, I was eventually in a cab speeding towards Benin and the airport. Beyond that was Lagos, sleep overnight and then a return to Aberdeen via London.
This is only three weeks in – by no means have we reached our new normal yet. A large part of what that will become is still up in the air – A still has work in the city, I plan to make Aberdeen the hub around which I 'do life in a great church and a great city', there is a lot of paper work to sort out before some semblance of real normalcy can be restored. What is not debatable is that life is incredibly fragile – birth and death its epigraph and hypograph. If visions of cold lifeless forms strewn over tables in a morgue – which remain seared in my memory – are anything to go by, TS Elliot put it most succinctly:
This is the way the world ends,
not with a bang, but with a whimper.
August 6, 2014 July 5, 2015 AJ
Protected: For H: What I wanted to say…
April 15, 2014 July 5, 2015 AJ
Bait and Switch…
My father, very much like me, is not a great talker- the sum of our conversation over the course of the year is little more than fifteen minutes. In the main these – 3 minutes here, 2 there, and 5 there have mainly come about as intermissions, snuck in between typically lengthy conversations with my mother – if her constant probing and interrogating can count as conversations. When I wake up to find a couple of missed calls from him on my phone , a whatsapp message from my kid sister, and a BBM message from my brother – all relating to the fact that my father has been trying to get hold of me- it sets the alarm bells in my head off. After arriving from my weekend trip to the middle of nowhere (link) I ordered the largest, most decadent pizza I could from PapaJohns – with a barbecue chicken side- devoured it and promptly fell into my bed for sleep, which was how I ended up oblivious to the clamour for my attention.
Resigning myself to whatever it might be, I call him, bracing myself for whatever it might be. It turns out, it has to do with a conference down south he wants to attend- he wants guidance on visa applications, money transfers and all the associated arrangements required to smoothen his first trip out of Nigeria in a while. it was from my. Not quite any of the urgent, life threatening things my mind had invented then. we chit chat, a bit after that, work at mine, failed driving test and all get a mention, and then an uncomfortable silence. My unease increases exponentially.
So…. He begins, have you called K yet? I haven't and really don't intend to. She is the doctor daughter of a friend of a friend of Mum's whose folk perhaps as agitated by the lack of visible progress towards marrying as mine are have somehow dreamed up this match.
I explain, I've had a lot on my plate- offshore, work, eyeing a job change and the like. I assure him I have it on the front burner though..
My father disagrees, by his estimation, if I had even a hint of seriousness, I would have placed the phone call to K, and or being on a flight to nigeria already. He thinks I'm overly focused on progressional development .
You know, people are worried too, they ask me what's happening all the time.
By now my irritation has built up a head- the people who are worried won't be in a marriage with me I interject. I may have overdone my curt ness as he falls silent, our little attempt at detente dying as quickly as it rose…
The resignation in his voice is palpable. It's alright, just call her, OK?
I mumble a response back, just before I terminate the call… Bait and switch, classic…. My folks are getting better at this!!!
May 13, 2013 AJ
Facebook Fail
I woke up to five missed calls on my phone. I had felt, rather than heard its insistent buzz deep within lalaland but sheer tiredness had kept me from waking up. Instead, the phone's chirpy ringtone somehow ended up blending itself in with the background to some weird dream I promptly forgot on waking.
Of the five missed calls, three were from my mother, one from my father's phone and one from a private number. This has more or less become her standard M.O. – when she feels I am intentionally refusing to answer her phone calls that is. That she'd called five times suggested it was important, so I groaned inwardly, punched in the numbers for my calling card and made the phone call to Nigeria.
The full repertoire of grunted, fairly redundant greetings done, she proceeded to the core of the reason why she'd called.
"So 'Seni, I hear you young people now find wives on facebook"
"Mummy", I reply in best son voice, "where did you hear that from? Facebook is just a website for staying in touch with old friends"
"That's not what I heard" she replies before she launches into a ten minute tale. Some distant friend of the family, who I had met two or three times at most, who is now retired had scrapped his savings together and sent his son abroad to study at one of my former Universities. Post graduation, he'd found a job in London and was doing quite well by all accounts until he found a wife "off Facebook" my mother insists and got married to her.
A year later, he'd lost his job, it turned out she had been a fraud of sorts (she'd lied about where she worked amongst all other things), and he was back in Nigeria trying to find a job. Somewhere in between talk of having visited some medicine man in an attempt to suss out the cause of his misfortune and all the other 'spiritual' sleuthing a traditional Nigerian does..
My mother's point – important enough for her to try to call me five times in quick succession – was that one wrong move such as finding a wife off face was dangerous. And I needed to be warned/ have my ear pulled to remind me… When it had all wrapped up and the telephone conversation had ended. I sighed and returned to whatever remnants of sleep I could eke out.
It was only 8.30am


Premier is pleased to announce the addition of Pipestone's sheep and goat care products. Used by experienced producers and recommended by veterinarians, these items are a staple in any shepherd's toolbox.
Have a question about sheep or goats?
Thousands of producers all over the country use Premier 1 Supplies because of our well-trained staff and accurate, friendly answers. We want to help you succeed with your sheep operation.


High quality, natural and balanced wines need no additives. We give them the time and the care they need to mature: we macerate the grapes for a long time, press them gently, ferment them under controlled conditions, allow them to rest – this is what's best for white wine. For all our reds, the grapes are taken off the stem and allowed to macerate until the fermentation process has released the precious colours, aromas and tannins. After 14 to 28 months of ageing in wooden barrels, the red wines reveal their inner abundance. Our elegant Pinots, modelled on Burgundy wines, are an insider favourite and, because of their excellent reputation, are not widely available in Germany. That's one good reason to stop by and get to know us, don't you think?


Sometimes when we go on vacation, we think of is as a time to indulge to the fullest. Sip on some pina coladas & margaritas by the pool, go out to dinner and eat decadent meals followed by dessert, slack off on the exercise . . . NOT a smart idea! Then we come home feeling bloated, yucky, and lazy! It makes it so hard to get back into a healthy routine. So in spirit of the first weekend of Coachella officially beginning tomorrow, I'm going to share with you some tips to stay healthy while on vacation . . .
1. Drink TONS of water! Especially when going somewhere hot, where you will be dehydrated. Try to drink your body weight in ounces of water. Add lemon juice to your water for an easy detox!
2. Keep easy and healthy snacks with you for when you get hungry.
3. Do something active each day. You're on vacation, so enjoy the outdoors! Go for a morning hike, run, or if you're stuck inside, then do yoga, jumping jacks, pushups & abs in your hotel room - You can workout anywhere!
4. No sugary drinks! Wouldn't you rather eat your calories in a healthy way then down a soda that has 40 grams of sugar and processed crap in it!?
5. Load up on veggies when you go out to meals - start with a packed salad, dressing on the side, or soup. Always ask how your dinner is prepared - is it grilled or is it sauteed in tons of butter and cream?
6. Choose your cocktails wisely - stay away from blended drinks and keep it simple. I usually go with wine or vodka with soda (or vodka & water!) and tons tons tons of lemons!
I'm suppppper excited for Coachella this weekend, and my roomies and I will be fully stocking our house with tons of healthy items. On our Costco list . . . Coconut water, steel cut oatmeal, eggs, turkey bacon, and Ezekiel bread for breakfast. Lara Bars, KIND bars, and trail mix to pack in the purse for when we don't want music festival food. Greek yogurt and cottage cheese to snack on before we head out for the day. AND happy to report we're bringing the Blendtec so we can whip up my favorite green smoothie to start of day right!


Alfa is made of "SMC" – an innovative composite of fibreglass-reinforced polyester resins used in the car industry. A triple layer of varnish, two matt and one glossy, make the chair solid and rugged. The design is the result of coupling just two parts – the backrest, which continues into the back legs, and the seat, which is prolonged into the front legs.


For some people work is their reason for being. For most of us, however, that is simply not the case. To the majority work is a means to an ends – a way to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. It can therefore sometimes be hard to last the many hours that the work place eats out of our lives. Sometimes we just want to throw up our hands, throw in the towel or throw ourselves in front of the closest passing bus.
The problem is that not being satisfied at work has a way of leaking into the rest of our lives. For example, it might poison relations with loved ones, make it hard for us to enjoy those bits of time we do have away from the grindstone, and even – when things get really bad – slip into our dreams and have us running around there as well, before day hasn't even started.
Of course, simply because work isn't the reason, that doesn't mean it can't have some kind of meaning. It's just a matter of finding it, creating it, or introducing it. Here are five fantastic ways for you to just that.
Don't wait for the job to give you meaning. Instead, import the meaning. What I mean with that is that you look to your own life, to what you find gives you meaning there, then try to find some way to bring that in to your work. So if you're about helping people, then find out how your job gives you the possibility to help. Or if your life is about being creative, then find ways that you can be more creative at your job.
One great way to do this is to actually sit down, consider what is important to you and then try to think of few new ways to bring that into your job, even if it's only in small ways. So, for example, if your meaning is discovering the world, then sit down and find out what five things you can still discover at your place of work that you haven't yet discovered – like how to use a particular software package to where the recycling bin is. Then, the next week, find five new things that you can try to discover.
We all have things that we're good at and when we're doing those things, we find what we're doing far more enjoyable and meaningful. So, in a similar way to importing meaning, make certain that you play towards your strengths. This means that you first write down what you are particularly good at. Then find new and interesting ways to bring that into your work.
What also helps greatly here is to get other people involved. You can ask for help from other people with those tasks that you're not particularly good at. Similarly, you can work together with somebody who has a different skill set but has to do similar tasks to you, with you both dividing up the work so that you're doing more of your good at. This will make both of your lives easier and more interesting.
We're social creatures. That's why we're at the top of the food chain. That's why we've reached beyond our little planet. That's possibly why we're self-aware. Many of us, however, spend our time at work trying to block off this aspect of ourselves. No wonder we struggle to find meaning and enjoy our work!
Instead, take the time to be social and make friends. You'll feel better about yourself, enjoy going to work more and be generally happier. What's more, it's been demonstrated that when employees get along they are more productive, take less time off work and the company's turnover rate is much reduced. In other words, it's good for your employer as well (in case they start nagging you).
Creativity is a wonderful and that's true not just for artists, but for everybody. Once you view the world in a more creative manner, you can break the barriers that keep you to the rut that is most people's lives and explore the little pleasures that are hidden all around you.
Creativity breaks the chains of mundanity.
So, become more creative in all aspects of your life (as creativity is not something that will allow itself to be switched off). There are tons of different ways to be creative. Try to import a few into your work place and enjoy finding the hidden pleasures that are certain to be there.
We've all done it, gotten so narrow in our focus that we're not even aware anymore of what's going on outside our little bubble. The thing is, there is no better way to alienation and dissatisfaction than thinking of yourself as nothing more than a meaningless cog in a pointless machine.
So instead, take the time to figure out how what you do matters to the company you work for, and take a more overarching view of what's going on. Take ownership of what you're doing and how what you're contributing becomes as part of that whole. Pay attention to the processes that go around you, where a group has the ability to create thing that nobody would be able to do on their own. Try to understand it, explore it and then share your enthusiasm with others. After all, you never know what good might come of you demonstrating positivity and a deep understanding of what is going on around you.
The truth is, when we don't really enjoy our job, we stop paying attention to what's going on as well as what is possible. We close ourselves off to possibilities and meaning. And down that road dissatisfaction lies. Instead, since you're going to be spending as much time as you do there anyway, why not explore the wonder of it? Committing yourself to doing so doesn't cost anything, nor does it mean that you're committing yourself to staying where you are forever more.
It is simply a matter of trying to make your situation better and more meaningful. Now what could ever be wrong with that? So don't wait for the meaning to come to you. Instead, embrace meaning and bring it both into your life and everybody else's.
And yes, that might not be easy, but could you imagine a mission more worthwhile?


text:
Garner, Hugh
Hugh Garner (1913-1979) immigrated to Canada in 1919, settling in Toronto. His most famous novel is Cabbagetown, released in its entirety in 1968. In 1963 he won the Governor General's Award for Hugh Garner's Best Stories. George Fetherling is a poet, fiction writer, and voyager. Among his many books are Travels by Night: A Memoir of the Sixties and Running Away to Sea: Round the World on a Tramp Freighter. He published under the name Douglas Fetherling until 1999, and thereafter under the name George in honour of his late father. He lives in Vancouver.
Books by Garner, Hugh
Storm Below
Hugh Garner
The Silence on the Shore
Hitler's Brothel
Steve Matthews
Kim Kelly
The Viking Stone
The Pharaoh's Stone
Full Curl
Dave Butler
John McEvoy
Morris West
The Naked Country
The Concubine
Gallows on the Sand
Played!
Michael A. Kahn
Splintered Earth
Laura Kinch

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Author(s) : RODZIAH, H., SAFIAH YUSMAH, M.Y.
Author(s) : ADEOYE TEMITOPE A., GESINDE A. M., IGBOKWE DAVID O.
Author(s) : ABDUL HALIM H., AMIN AL-HADI S., MAHAZAN A.M, MIZAN ADILIAH A.I., MOHD. ZAINOL A.A., NURHAFIZAH S., SAEDAH A.G., SALHAH A., WAN MOHD. FAZRUL AZDI W.R.


To become a sponsor for this event, follow the button below and print the form.
To donate an item to the auction, please follow the button below and print out the form.
For information regarding accepted food and other in-kind donations, contact Shara Dunham at shara@facetofacegermantown.org. PLEASE NOTE: We accept limited clothing donations, please see our wish list page for details. We do not accept electronics or other household items.


program for the controls to start functioning.
* Can now minimize the program (sorry about that).
from the NVIDIA reference code.
* Sub-Panels will now remain open after you exit and re-enter DC Genie.
the various features DC Genie offers.
* Fixed some typos and added hint-information for all features.
* A few cosmetic bugs were fixed.
through the NVIDIA Dialog box is supported.
program progresses prior to investing time in documentation.
There are no known bugs at this moment.


When you are looking to capture the stylish and traditional look of vertical sliding sash windows for your home or business, contact the experts here at Celsius Windows. We offer a stunning collection of sash and case windows that combine the elegant styling of sash windows with the innovative controls and security of modern day windows. Not only are these windows beautiful in appearance, but they also offer almost zero maintenance and the highest levels of security. What's more, because our windows are constructed in the highest standards in UPVC, they will not discolour and will stay looking their best for many years.
If you currently have timber sash windows, and you are looking to save money on maintenance or replace your rotting or damaged windows, our UPVC sash and case windows are the ideal solution. Featuring tilting upper and lower sashes, energy efficient glass, and very low maintenance UPVC is the perfect way to eradicate the problems often associated with wooden sash windows. Call our team today to find out more about our windows, and for a cost effective quote.
Because they feature energy efficient glass, our sash and case windows can save you significant amounts of money on your heating bills. If your existing windows let in draughts and chills, you could be turning up your heating more and more. We can install new windows that will keep your home warm and cosy, secure and which give your property excellent kerb appeal. Be the envy of your neighbours and passersby with our beautiful sash and case windows.
When you are looking for assistance with sash and case window installation, get in touch with our experts here at Celsius Windows. We have been providing our services for years and we would be delighted to speak to you if you are looking for replacement windows, or help with just one or two windows for your home or business. All windows are covered with our 10 year guarantee giving you peace of mind that in the unlikely event of any problem, we will be there to help. Call us now to arrange a convenient appointment and a no obligation free quote. We would be delighted to assist and to show you some of the windows from our sash and case range.


text:
Acenocoumarol is een cumarinederivaat dat gebruikt wordt als anticoagulans, dus om de bloedstolling te remmen. Het werd in Nederland  verkocht door Novartis onder de merknaam Sintrom en is nog in de handel door verschillende andere bedrijven als generiek geneesmiddel.

De werking van acenocoumarol is vergelijkbaar met die van de andere cumarinederivaten fenprocoumon en warfarine: het zijn alle drie vitamine K-antagonisten, die de mogelijkheid van de lever verstoren om vitamine K te verwerken. Het voornaamste verschil ligt in de werkingsduur: die is bij acenocoumarol veel korter (halveringstijd ca. 11 uur in vergelijking met ca. 40 en 140 uur bij respectievelijk warfarine en fenprocoumon). Het gevolg is dat de kwaliteit van de antistolling meer aan schommeling onderhevig is bij het gebruik van acenocoumarol. Met acenocoumarol is het effect van een dosisaanpassing sneller merkbaar dan bij fenprocoumon, waar dat pas na enkele dagen zichtbaar is.
Acenocoumarol remt de bloedstolling door de productie te blokkeren van een aantal belangrijke stollingsfactoren, namelijk II (protrombine), VII (anti-hemofilie-factor), IX en X evenals proteïne–C en proteïne–S. Deze stollingsfactoren worden uit inactieve precursor-proteïnen gevormd, waarbij vitamine K nodig is voor activering van de γ-carboxyleringsreacties. Acenocoumarol heeft geen invloed op reeds gevormde stollingsfactoren.

De werking is maximaal na circa 36 tot 72 uur, onafhankelijk van de dosis. De werking houdt aan tot 48 uur na de laatste dosis. In de lever wordt acenocoumarol na verloop van tijd omgezet in inactieve metabolieten.

Kinetische gegevens
Acenocoumarol is een racemisch mengsel van twee optische isomeren die elkaars spiegelbeeld zijn, namelijk de (S) en (R)-enantiomeren. De (S)-enantiomeren verdwijnen snel uit het bloed. Om deze reden draagt alleen (R)-acenocoumarol bij aan het farmacologische effect. Het belangrijkste enzym dat bij de stofwisseling van acenocoumarol betrokken is, is het cytochroom P450 enzym CYP2C9. In principe interacteert elk middel dat de werking van dit iso-enzym beïnvloedt, met de werking van acenocoumarol. Andere enzymen die betrokken zijn bij de stofwisseling van (R)-acenocoumarol zijn CYP1A2 en CYP2C19.

De resorptie van Acenocoumarol bedraagt meer dan 60%. Tmax = 1–3 uur. Plasma-eiwitbinding: 99%. Na 1 week is ca. 60% met de urine uitgescheiden en ca. 29% met de ontlasting. De halveringstijd bedraagt 8 tot 11 uur.

Zwangerschapadvies
Acenocoumarol is teratogeen, en is daarom gecontraïndiceerd tijdens de zwangerschap, met name in de eerste 13 weken en na de 36e week van de zwangerschap, net als andere cumarinederivaten. In deze periode is heparine of laagmoleculair heparine een mogelijk alternatief. In sporadische gevallen schrijft de arts tussen de 13 en 36e week van de zwangerschap acenocoumarol voor, maar ook dan bestaat er risico op met name afwijkingen van het centrale zenuwstelsel van de foetus.

Borstvoeding
Voor het gebruik van acenocoumarol in de periode waarin borstvoeding wordt gegeven, gelden geen beperkingen.

Interacties
De werking van coumarinen kan o.a. worden versterkt door acetylsalicylzuur en andere NSAID's, heparine, schildklierhormonen, glucagon, allopurinol, disulfiram, alcohol, anabole en androgene steroïden, remmers van CYP2C9 (zoals amiodaron, cimetidine, azoolantimycoticum (miconazol vermijden, ook uitwendig/oromucosaal gebruik), SSRI's, probenecide en teniposide), antibiotica (zoals erytromycine, amoxicilline, tetracyclinen, sulfonamiden (co–trimoxazol vermijden), neomycine, chlooramfenicol), sulfonylureumderivaten (tolbutamide), lipidenverlagende middelen (zoals statines), tamoxifen.

De werking van coumarinen kan worden verzwakt door o.a. middelen die CYP2C9 induceren (carbamazepine, barbituraten, rifampicine), proteaseremmers, orale anticonceptiva, azathioprine. Bij eventueel gelijktijdige medicatie met colestyramine (een anionenuitwisselend polystyreenhars) moet colestyramine steeds ten minste 4 uur ná acenocoumarol worden toegediend, daar dit middel anders aan colestyramine wordt geadsorbeerd. Het hypoglykemisch effect van sulfonylureumderivaten zoals tolbutamide kan worden versterkt.

Overdosering
Afhankelijk van de ernst en aard van de bloeding wordt toediening van het cumarinederivaat tijdelijk of definitief gestaakt en tevens bij lichte bloedingen: 10–20 mg fytomenadion (vitamine K1) oraal of langzaam i.v.; zo nodig na 8–12 uur een tweede, eventueel hogere, dosis geven. Bij levensbedreigende bloedingen: direct vierstollingsfactorenconcentraat of 'fresh frozen'-plasma geven, gevolgd door 10–20 mg fytomenadion langzaam i.v. (in totaal max. 40 mg).

Externe links
 Trombosestichting Nederland
 Federatie van Nederlandse Trombosediensten

Anticoagulans
Nitrobenzeenderivaat
Coumarinederivaat
Arylalcohol
Keton
Chirale verbinding

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


text:
Q: Spring - upload form - unable to get the file list I am getting the below error while uploading the files (multiple files) using Spring MVC.
java.lang.NullPointerException
    com.mkyong.common.controller.FileUploadController.save(FileUploadController.java:34)
    sun.reflect.NativeMethodAccessorImpl.invoke0(Native Method)
    sun.reflect.NativeMethodAccessorImpl.invoke(NativeMethodAccessorImpl.java:39)
    sun.reflect.DelegatingMethodAccessorImpl.invoke(DelegatingMethodAccessorImpl.java:25)
    java.lang.reflect.Method.invoke(Method.java:597)

jsp
<form:form method="post" action="save"
        modelAttribute="uploadForm" enctype="multipart/form-data">

Select files to upload. Press Add button to add more file inputs.

    <input id="addFile" type="button" value="Add File" />

            <input name="files[0]" type="file" />

            <input name="files[1]" type="file" />

<input type="submit" value="Upload" />
</form:form>

Controller
@RequestMapping(value = "/save", method = RequestMethod.POST)
public String save(
        @ModelAttribute("uploadForm") FileUploadForm uploadForm,
                Model map) {
    List<MultipartFile> files = uploadForm.getFiles();

    List<String> fileNames = new ArrayList<String>();
    //counting the file size
    System.out.println("Files count :"+files.size());

    if(null != files && files.size() > 0) { //HERE 'files' is NULL
        for (MultipartFile multipartFile : files) {

            String fileName = multipartFile.getOriginalFilename();
            fileNames.add(fileName);
            //Handle file content - multipartFile.getInputStream()

        }
    }

Can anyone please help me in fixing this? I am still debugging why I am not able to pass the files(uploadForm) from jsp to controller.

A: I just solved it. you need to add  <bean id="multipartResolver" class="org.springframework.web.multipart.commons.CommonsMultipartResolver" /> in your dispatcher-servlet.xml.
and if you are using multipart array for multiple files then use just array name. like
private MultipartFile [] file;

Getters and Setters and in form
<form:form commandName="uploadFile" method="post" enctype="multipart/form-data">
        <input type="file" name="file"/>
        <input type="file" name="file"/>
        <input type="file" name="file"/>
        <input type="submit" value="Submit"/>
    </form:form>

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


This tutorial demonstrates how an application gets a token for a user.Generates random tokens with custom size and base-encoding using the RFC 4122 v4 UUID algorithm. I am here on steemit just because of your post and...Updated May 30, 2016 by kingalvin using our MTG Deck Builder.We promise to bring you the latest working free Tokens Generator that you want.
The STAR AgML reference guide. 1.1 Compiling your Generator.This is my second, more competitive version of my token deck and probably my favorite deck. This deck.TokenTool removes much of the tedium from creating tokens for use with MapTool or your favorite online gaming application.
DRAFT liRELIMINARY SUMMARY OF THE U.S. EPA COLLOQUIUM ON RISK CHARACTERIZATION SERIES C: OSWER.
This dictates when the switch is in the Auto position, how much time in a 3 hour window the generator will produce chlorine.Private tokens are not discoverable, but can still be linked to and shared.
An easy to follow guide on how to buy and store the cryptocurrency Hubii Network (HBT).This will be a very simple tutorial on how to get your discord token. We specialize in Reproducing WWII Notched Army Dog Tags exacting in every detail.In general, a discovery service and an identity provider are hosted on the same machine.
Validator Keys Tool Guide. When first setting up a validator, use the validator-keys tool to. validator token. Signing. The validator-keys tool can be used to.
Verify Your Identity with a One-Time Password Generator App or Device. This guide provides instructions for configuring and using HP ProtectTools Security Manager. features to deploy, such as Java Cards, biometric readers, or USB tokens.
It can be any type of token (such as an opaque string or a JWT) and is meant for.The resulting token has no mana cost, supertypes, rules text, or abilities. 110.5c A spell or ability that creates a token sets both its name and its subtype.


Kumar, Ravindra (2015) Effect of Tempering Temperature and Time on Strength and Hardness of Ductile Cast Iron. MTech thesis.
Kumar , Ravindra (2013) CFD Simulation of a Small Stirling Cryocooler. BTech thesis.
This list was generated on Sat Apr 20 16:10:15 2019 IST.


The Advanced Emergency Medical Technician (AEMT) Course is a comprehensive program consisting of both classroom (didactic), skills lab, clinical (hospital observation) and field (ambulance observation) components. The course adheres to the 2009 National EMS Education Standards which are based on the National EMS Core Content and the National EMS Scope of Practice that define the minimal entry-level educational competencies for each level of EMS training and has replaced the DOT National Standards curricula used in the past.
This course consists of 168 hours of classroom time that includes hands-on skills training sessions. The student must also complete (outside of class time), two, 12-hour clinical internship rotations in the emergency room rotation where they will observe and assist with the assessment and management of patients within the scope of practice for the AEMT. The student is also required to complete three, 12-hour shifts in the prehospital setting with an EMS agency. Students are required to demonstrate the ability to assess and manage a minimum of 10 patients and document their care.
Students who successfully complete this course are eligible to take the National Registry of EMTs psychomotor and cognitive exams which lead to certification at the AEMT level in the State of Washington, as well as with the National Registry of EMTs.
Register and pay for this course at courseregistration.inhs.org.
Please know that enrollment into the AEMT course is a two-step process. This process includes registering and minimum payment as well as completion and submission of the course application (to be emailed after registration). Should the applicant complete both of these steps and meet the minimum requirements, they are considered accepted and enrolled in the program.
The Advanced EMT Program is one of our vocational education courses. For more information click here.


text:
Alert at Lincoln Center as church threatens to picket Juilliard
Staff at the NY arts hub have been warned to expect a picket by a Baptist group, denouncing the Juilliard School as a hub of pride and vanity.
(They are not wrong, but still…)
According to Wikipedia, 'Westboro Baptist Church is a Baptist church which is known for its hate speech, especially against LGBT people, Catholics, Orthodox Christians, Muslims, Jews, American soldiers and politicians.'
UPDATE: Student response here.
Here's the Church notice:
The Juilliard School in New York, NY November 3, 2016 8:00 AM – 9:00 AM
THE LORD WILLING, CHRIST WILL BE PREACHED AT THE JUILLIARD SCHOOL, WHERE VANITY AND PRIDE RULE!
Juilliard School, located in the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts, touts that it:
"…trains about 850 undergraduate and graduate students in dance, drama, and music. It is widely regarded as one of the world's leading music schools, with some of the most prestigious arts programs. In 2016, QS Quacquarelli Symonds ranked it as the world's best institution for Performing Arts in their inaugural global ranking of the discipline."
Oh the vanity of it all!
"For if a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself." Gal. 6:3
Too many words to cover the awful sin of this "institution of higher learning." Sum it up like this: You have made your children to be good for absolutely nothing except full, final and awful destruction!
"Then I went to Euphrates, and digged…the girdle from the place where I had hid it: and, behold, the girdle was marred, it was profitable for nothing. Then the word of the LORD came unto me, saying, Thus saith the LORD, After this manner will I mar the…great pride of Jerusalem [America]. This evil people, which refuse to hear my words, which walk in the imagination of their heart, and walk after other gods, to serve them, and to worship them, shall even be as this girdle, which is good for nothing." Jeremiah 13:7-10
If you had taught those children to invest 5% of the energy they use for the vanity called "The Arts", America would not be leading the world in racing to destruction. Clarifying, God will not ever have idolatry, fornication, adultery, divorce and remarriage (which Christ said is adultery, at Luke 16:18, and other places) sodomy, same-sex marriage, murder, lying, stealing and all the rest of your proud sin, including your awful pride. That wisdom "descendeth not from above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish." But seek that wisdom that is from above, which "is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy." James 3.
God said: "Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." 1 John 2:15
"And after these things I saw another angel come down from heaven, having great power; and the earth was lightened with his glory. And he cried mightily with a strong voice, saying, Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird? "For her sins have reached unto heaven, and God hath remembered her iniquities. Reward her…double according to her works:… How much she hath glorified herself, and lived deliciously, so much torment and sorrow give her: for she saith in her heart, I sit a queen, and am no widow, and shall see no sorrow." Therefore shall her plagues come in one day, death, and mourning, and famine; and she shall be utterly burned with fire: for strong is the Lord God who judgeth her." (Revelation 18 – PLEASE, read every word America, it is for YOU!)
We beg of you, while you still have the breath of life:
REPENT OR PERISH – GOD STILL H8S FAGS & PROUD SIN!
Typical of the religious insanity permeating the US. What rubbish!
John Nemaric says:
I was told this anecdote by somebody very close to this church.
God entered the Church and…he was asked to leave immediately.
Because you are not religious enough for US.
Maybe he wasn't dressed well enough and his hair was too long!
not a chance mate says:
I heard that someone had been thrown out of their church and was sitting across the road having a coffee feeling rejected when this bearded guy with long hair walked up and they had a chat. "Why are you sitting here looking sad?" the bearded guy asked? "Oh, I tried to get into that church over there and they told me God hates me and threw me out." – the bearded guy laughs… "oh, what? Westboro Baptist? I'm Jesus and I've been trying to get in there for decades…. not a chance, mate."
Michael Korstick says:
Holy crap, literally. Imbeciles of all countries, unite!
Tom Quill says:
lol no, they are not typical of anything, I promise
One thing people should know about this group is that they have a couple of members who are lawyers. They try to provoke people to anger, and then press charges for assault against the individual and for negligence against the institution that "allowed" the assault to take place. Laughter is the best (i.e. most offensive) defense, for example http://tinyurl.com/j2dpnds or http://tinyurl.com/htk6jn9
Bruce is right. That is their business model.
So the Talibans are not the only madmen around…
M2N2K says:
Of course not, but there is no equivalence either. These hatemongers are despicable and disgusting, but at least they don't chop people's heads off.
Daniel F. says:
The blog-keeper should not take a gratuitous parenthetical snipe at Juilliard at this perilous time. Whether he is right in his sense of the institution (from a lot of miles away) or wrong or making an attempt at humor is not the issue. Given the awfulness of the views of those in opposition, we should all be doing our best to rally round. "And then they came for…."
Alan R. Kay says:
You are so right. I was offended by that inappropriately placed snide remark ("They are not wrong, but still…"). Whatever Juilliard is, it pales next to the vile antics of the despicable Westboro group. If you're going to talk about Juilliard's vanity, do it in another context.
Steven Holloway says:
Such snippets of editorializing, plus a few other tricks of the trade, are ubiquitous in SD posts. It is one of the ways of perpetuating the silly myth that the writer knows everything and everyone, although, simultaneously, the almost as ubiquitous gaffes left to readers to correct give the lie to that facade. I say it's a silly business because it really isn't necessary and fools no one.
Josh Grumeaux says:
It is completely lazy, irresponsible, and misleading to lead this blog by naming the provocateurs a "church" in the headline and a "Baptist group" in the first sentence, before finally calling out the name of this hate group in the third paragraph. The WBC has nothing more in common with churches or Baptists than the KKK. I am not religious whatsoever, but this merely inflames anti-religious and anti-American rhetoric in the comments.
It is unfortunate that this blog redistributes this bile, especially without any context. It is as if Norman has never heard of the WBC, a group that has been protesting classical music concerts for years, and couldn't be bothered to spend more than two minutes looking up a cursory Wikipedia definition. They deserve zero attention, not even for the apparent purpose of getting in a dig at Juilliard.
Laurence Dale says:
So please publish what the Bundy Family think about Juilliard…. or is that equally insignificant?
Surely there are more important stories to publish and discuss?
Blair tindall says:
Westboro is not formally affiliated with Baptist or any other religion. It is a hate group with tax-exempt nonprofit status. For those across the pond, it's famous in the US for disrupting funerals of war veterans and could be described as an anti-LGBT Ku Klux Klan.
Dan P. says:
To just add a little bit to what Blair said, the Westboro folks are not a church but merely a small hate group composed of members of Fred Phelps' family. I think they first attained notoriety when they attempted in 1998 to disrupt the funeral of Matthew Shepard, the young gay man from Wyoming who was the victim of a hate crime by a couple of locals. They then moved on to show their hate for pretty much everyone else exhibiting a spark of decency and humanity. They're a pretty despicable group but besides their theatrics and hateful spew, they don't present a physical threat to anyone. They're just a bunch of nuts.
Dan P. is correct on all counts. It could be hilarious as performing artists are resourceful and will probably upstage them in a way that Juilliard PR will appreciate.
Dan Plante says:
Their presence will surely make things interesting at Juilliard, that's for sure. Perhaps an impromptu performance of the slow movement of Eine kleine Nachtmusik might settle them down a bit. When I was a student at Juilliard in the early 70s the only comparable excitement was a demonstration across the street in front of the newly fashioned Embassy of the People's Republic of China facing what was then Juilliard's 67th Street entrance. Even that amounted to little more than a few eggs tossed at the former motel and a bit of noise. What was more curious to us, though, was watching these representatives of "the people" sunbathing on the roof of their Embassy while we were chuckling at them in music history class.
I'm hoping the brass students will stage an impromptu outdoors concert consisting entirely of Mahler and Wagner excerpts.
And also picketed military funerals, claiming that God let American soldiers die as a punishment for America accepting homosexuality. This 'church' is indeed little more than one family without a brain cell between the lot of them — picketing military funerals is a fast route to uniting the whole country against you.
Standard MO for the WBC. I've been picketed by them before during my time at KU – once for a KUSO concert, once at graduation (though I think they were there for the Law School's ceremony after mine).
Not really post worthy, all you're doing is giving them the attention they crave.
Agree. They love the publicity. Don't acknowledge them. They are nothing but a very nasty hate group.
I've always said religion is the curse of the modern world.
Cynthia Katsarelis says:
"a hub of pride…" Because we all know that real humility is being a mediocre, hateful, jerk.
In all seriousness, this could be threatening to the more vulnerable students, especially LGBT. So chin up, it gets better. Those people are going extinct.
Andrew Appel says:
Speechless!!! I have felt attacked often by these people because I am gay. Have had to control my distaste bordering on hatred to try to be more human and kind than they. But now they are attacking me because of my harpsichord? Now that's new.
Pride? Anyone who makes efforts to accomplish the challenges presented by a late Beethoven sonata or the Goldbergs or even the simplest of Schubert songs knows humility. We can never live up to the potential of the scores we love, admire, and try to bring to life. We live in a battle between a feeling of incompetence and the drumming up of courage to advocate our art. And we come so close to the "creator spirit" when we live in the world of genius whose door is opened just a bit for us by our masters..Shakespeare, Bach, Balanchine.
These perverted spirits belittle all religion yet they are warned against their own selves, their meanness, here and there in the bible…..But what do WE do or feel now if we have to walk through the barking and scowling of the hateful and ignorant? How should we respond? Should we hand out CDs of beautiful music? DVDS of Concerto Barocco? and welcome them to our place of learning and worship… our Juilliard?
I like MIchelle Obama's advice – when they go low, we go high. Hand them a CD of Handels Messiah and tell them it's nothing but bible verses set to music. Perhaps they'll enjoy it.
Tim Walton says:
More crap from the God nuts in the USA. They are even worse than the Gun nuts.
No wonder I would never want to visit the land of the Nuts.
As I said elsewhere, these are just a small family who like to make noise – as hateful as they are. They are not connected to any church, despite their name, and are considered a laughing stock except, perhaps, by the poor people who have to suffer under their nonsense. But, while it's easy to do so, I think it's a mistake to cast aspersions on an entire country of 300 million people because it has a relatively small number of nutty people living there. There are nutty people living everywhere, even if they don't advertise themselves the way our nuts seem to like to do. I have to admit, though, it's a huge embarrassment.
Nuts period. God has nothing to do with it.
I think they just wanted a tax-deductible trip to New York City! HOO-WEE!
Adrienne Fox says:
There are always idiots in our midst. Masquerading as a 'Church' is an unintelligent way of trying to get noticed.
And, I must say, repeating such utter nonsense as click bait with very little context is equally unintellegent way of getting noticed. Judging from the comments from those taking this all at face value and/or using it as an excuse to brand it as typical of those "religious nuts" in the U.S….you are all falling into the trap of feeding the trolls and giving groups like Westboro just what they are looking for….attention and a reason to continue to exist. Just show a little more discernment, intelligence and research before spreading this supposed news….hit the delete button before publishing your knee-jerk outraged reportage …just ignore it!!
Not clickbait. Westboro is usually a major news story.
This is a real thing, Nelson. It's in Playbill. I don't know if you are familiar with the Westboro "Baptist" people, but they do this stunt a lot, generally at funerals. Protesting Juilliard is stepping out for them. I think they just wanted to get out of Kansas and enjoy NYC… However, we have to be aware that their toxic message can impact some vulnerable people.
Hi, people from outside the USA!
The WBC is essentially 50% scam and 50% publicity-seeking machine.
They have perhaps two dozen members, most of whom are related to one another, who go all over the country protesting in the most offensive/incendiary/shocking way possible. Their business model is to provoke violent reactions and then sue the person so provoked. However, this hasn't happened in a while because literally every single person in America has long since caught on.
Saying "ugh, Americans!" in response to this story is like saying "ugh, Germans!" because you read that bizarre case of the German cannibal who met a willing victim on the internet and killed and ate him. The WBC is a bizarre outlier in American culture (which has LOTS of bizarre outliers!) and I would gently encourage people not to imagine they represent the views of anyone other than their practicing adult members.
In fact, the WBC protests so often that virtually no news outlets will report on them, certainly not to draw attention to upcoming protests. Usually the people who call attention to the protesters are counterprotesters, who keep watch on WBC's website and send people to ensure the WBC is outnumbered wherever they go (which is not hard because, again, there are like 20 of them.)
To put out an "alert" that this is going to happen is exactly what the WBC wants. They want to "strike fear in the heart of liberals" even though they really, really don't.
So, uh, thanks for getting everybody concerned about this non-event.
Is anyone else really angered by the fact that this hateful cult is afforded tax-exempt status?
Ha! This is the best thing ever. This made my day. I'm guessing one of their kids didn't get accepted. I supposed those hymnals didn't compensate for Liszt etudes. Hahaha!
They're picketing for mere "pride and vanity"?
I'm guessing some of them are really just in town to see "Cats" and had to make it look like a church trip.
Steve Creswell says:
They have already been collectively skewed into an alternate sense of reality by their hateful creed. If they can possibly behave in the Neil Simon Theater, by all means send them to multiple and everlasting viewings of Cats. It could soften them, for the good of all.
Kenneth Langley says:
Andew Appel has described very well what it's like to be a musician. "We can never live up to the potential of the scores we love…." I think that struggle is our motivaton to keep going with music. I've come away from many performances not with the self-satisfaction you might expect, but despondent that I wasn't good enough or big enough to do justice to what the composer asked of me. Hence, "Once more into the breach…" seems to be our motto, even knowing we are doomed to failure in the end. Over and over. Pay no attention to the small-minded people, we have more important things to do.
Chris Van Hof says:
"They're not wrong, but still…"
That is truly disgusting. We all know Westboro is a haven of hate and disinformation, but ripping on a bunch of teenagers and 20-somethings is really low. Are you saying these students are more deserving of Westboro's hate than another music school? Why is the music school where I teach less prideful? Or any other music school?
So in addition to stirring the Westboro pot (nice job giving them more free press, their lifeblood), you take a cheap shot at the young generation of artists who study at Julliard. Shameful.
Where did you undergo the irony bypass?
Prideful, know-all asshats, each with more talent than any random hundred people put together.
I took issue with the blog-keeper's gratutious aside, too, Chris (see above), but in the big picture I was very pleased that he let all of his readers know what was going on. I doubt that ANYONE in this forum found out about the doings of this awful group and its attack on the Juilliard School from a source OTHER than "Slipped Disc". And the reason "SD" has so many readers is that the blog-keeper is tireless in his quest to find things out–sometimes very unpleasant things–and let us know.
I fail to see how giving publicity to this bunch of fanatics' picketing of Julliard helps anyone or anything — except the WBC. And taking his own editorial swipe at the school only makes things worse. This Julliard nonsense should have been ignored. What does need to be borne in mind is the WBC's actions at military funerals and their visible support for the murder of gays — THAT is serious business. This is more like the WBC caricaturing itself. Note that it has fallen to commenters to remind the blogger and others not in the know of just what the WBC represents. To SD this is just click-bait. Were it not, the post would not have what the blogger bafflingly describes as "irony" stuck in it.
Surely, this whole thing is crock…a theater piece, right?
Daniel Plante says:
I'm really surprised at the amount of interest and bile that this topic has engendered. My e-mail inbox just doesn't stop. Personally, I just think they wanted to come here to see a show, visit the Statue of Liberty, and check out the local Appleby's and felt that while we're here, they might as well protest something. Perhaps they saw Juilliard on a tour bus and were offended by the new modernist design. I'd be willing to bet that all they know about Juilliard is what they might have been told on the bus. I'm pretty sure they don't follow the careers of young musicians, much less know any music that was composed with pen and paper and isn't sung. And do you think they could tell a viola from an English Horn?
Dave Weiner says:
Like so many other groups that spew the same drivel, they just want attention. Ignore them and they will dry up and blow away.
TJoseph says:
Let me get this straight – they plan to picket Julliard for pride and vanity, but Harvard and Yale get a free pass? 😉
Nope! I graduated from one of those places and they picketed my commencement, which I understand they do most years. They picket every commencement they can fit into their schedule, whether its Yale or the U of Michigan or the Air Force Academy, because as we all know, universities are dens of sodomy and are an affront to Christ.
Tony M. says:
I have very much appreciated many of the comments made here. As one who identifies as a follower of Jesus Christ, I would like to add that I distance myself completely and wholeheartedly from the Westboro Baptist Church and its ideology of hatred toward many different kinds of people and causes that are outside their "good list". They do not represent mainstream Christians, yet tarnish the reputation of everyone called by that name. It's deeply troubling and distressing at best, and sadly destructive at its core.
I have two family members who received an excellent education at Juilliard and certainly reflect the humility mentioned by many of you who have attempted to master and perform these great works. The Arts are not in themselves "a vanity", as claimed by the group's material, but rather a necessary part of who we are as human beings. We are not fully human without them.
May we be able to engage in meaningful dialogue with those we don't understand or agree with, rather than take hateful and vicious stances that serve to do nothing but further the distance between us.


text:
Last Update November 21, 2015
Bank worker gets fired for using fake dime decades ago
Aug. 10, 2012: Richard Eggars stands in a laundromat in Carlisle, Iowa that has come back to haunt him. (AP)
DES MOINES – Wells Fargo Home Mortgage has fired a Des Moines worker over a 1963 incident at a Laundromat involving a fake dime in the wake of new employment guidelines.
Richard Eggers, 68, was fired in July from his job as a customer service representative for putting a cardboard cutout of a dime in a washing machine nearly 50 years ago in Carlisle, the Des Moines Register reported Monday.
Warren County court records show Eggers was convicted of operating a coin-changing machine by false means. Eggers called it a "stupid stunt," but questions his firing.
Big banks have been firing low-level employees like Eggers since new federal banking employment guidelines were enacted in May 2011 and new mortgage employment guidelines took hold in February, the newspaper said. The tougher standards are meant to clear out executives and mid-level bank employees guilty of transactional crimes — such as identity theft and money laundering — but are being applied across the board because of possible fines for noncompliance.
Banks have fired thousands of workers nationally, said Natasha Buchanan, an attorney in Santa Ana, Calif., who has helped some of the workers regain their eligibility to be employed.
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"Banks are afraid of the FDIC and the penalties they could face," Buchanan said.
The regulatory rules forbid the employment of anyone convicted of a crime involving dishonesty, breach of trust or money laundering. Before the guidelines were changed, banks widely interpreted the rules to exclude minor traffic offenses and misdemeanors.
Wells Fargo confirmed Eggers' termination.
"The expectations that have been placed on us and all financial institutions have never been higher," said Wells Fargo spokeswoman Angela Kaipust.
The Federal Deposit Insurance Corp. provides a waiver process employees can follow to show they're still fit to work at a bank despite a past criminal conviction, but it usually takes six months to a year to be approved. There is also a process for automatic waiver that works more quickly but is limited to people who were sentenced to less than year of jail time and never spent a day locked up.
Eggers, who was jailed two days, doesn't qualify.
American Bankers Association spokeswoman Carol Kaplan said the public clamor for tighter regulation also is responsible for the stricter interpretation of the rules. The safest route is to fire the employee and let them pursue an FDIC waiver.
"There's no question that there was an appetite for tighter bank regulation as a result of the global financial crisis," Kaplan said.
There is no government or industry data on the number of bank firings due to criminal background checks. The FDIC is on pace to grant 74 waivers, up from 21 waivers approved in 2009. The agency was not able to provide any information on annual waiver application data.
Des Moines attorney Leonard Bates is helping Eggers navigate the FDIC waiver application process.
"These guidelines are really meant for executives and people who can perpetuate widespread fraud," Bates said.
'Target Tori' gets outpouring of donations after toothbrush spat at Massachusetts store


In the Ruby programming language, defined methods come in two variants: instance methods and class methods. Instance methods are available after an object has been initialized, creating an instance. Class methods, on the other hand, are available without creating an instance of the class they are defined upon.
Ruby methods can vary in visibility. Public methods are available in any context, while private methods' availability is restricted within the instance of a class and its descendants. A third visibility scope, protected, behaves similarly to private methods, but protected methods can be called by other instances of the same class.
Private class methods might not be as common as private instance methods, but they still have their place. For instance, a class method may require internal helper methods to complete its function. Whatever the reason, defining private class methods has value but is not always intuitive.
This example Dog class needs to maintain a list of tricks that will be used within the other public class methods. This list should not be accessible to any callers outside the Dog class.
Uh oh, no error was thrown indicating a that a private method was called, this method is completely public.
The reason that the above code did not produce a private method has to do with Ruby's object hierarchy, interactions amongst internal classes, instances of those classes, and eigenclasses. A detailed write up about how Ruby's objects work with one another can be found in a previous post.
When defining methods in a class, the default context and the context introduced by the self. method declaration are distinct.
The private method scope can not be used in the above way as it does not handle the context change between methods defined on the Dog class and defined within self context.
One alternative way to define class methods on an object is to use the class << self syntax. This syntax opens an eigenclass for the supplied argument. In this example, self within the Dog class will open the Dog's eigenclass.
One thing to note is that when defining methods like this, the declaration has changed from def self.tricks to simply def tricks.
Modules in ruby are collections of methods and constants. These collections can be used as encapsulation tools or, in this case, alternatives to defining public and private class methods.
When a class extends a module, all the methods within that module become class methods on the subject class*. This pattern can be used to define the tricks method on Dog.
*Note: This only pertains to methods defined in a "typical sense" any def self. or def Dog. method definitions in a module do not automatically become class methods in the same way when extended.
A benefit of this approach is readability. The module named ClassMethods, which is contained and thus encapsulated by the Dog class, is the clear home for all desired class methods.
Visibility modifiers like private behave accordingly and a simple extend at the bottom of the module definition brings it all together.
A third approach is to use the built in method Module#private_class_method. This method's purpose is to change the visibility of existing class methods.
If a single class method must be private and saving lines is very important, this style might be applicable; but, it certainly sacrifices a level of readability.
A major strength of private_class_method is its explicitness. Unlike the other approaches, this one does not require a special module definition or method definition context switching.
The aforementioned solutions will get the job done but might not answer lingering questions about why things work the way they do. A few great articles on the ruby eigenclass and Matz's thoughts on Ruby method design should help paint a more concise picture of why Ruby's private class method definition is complex.


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