stats

In my paying line of work, stat is the term we use for something that is critical in nature and needs to be tended to in a "drop everything" fashion 'cuz somebody's real sick. Well, that's what it's supposed to mean. About half the time it means the doctor forgot something until the last minute. The abuse of this term, as well as that of emergency rooms across the country is just one small part of the broken system that is healthcare, no matter which party's version you believe. Other than neutering big pharmacy and insurance, we're all at the mercy of people who mean well but who are burning out from doing more with less. Other industries are facing this as well, not just us. And for what? An American dream that we once saw and failed to appreciate enough? Yeah, I'm in a mood. My friend Rocko blew through today with his usual church hug and tall tale about the beach which he knows just kills my soul. God love him, he introduced me to one of his associates as his "blogger" friend! That was back when I was still in the outhouse and poop was happening all over the place. The lovely Tamara designed that site with love and care and didn't charge a dime. It's still out there girlfriend! Most of the time that I was writing there, I was either on a rant or feeling sorry for myself, or both. My brother and his wife ran a home business so they tracked stats to see where their market was. That business started in their house at the end of Pecan Lane and it was sold to finance their move to the mountains of Virginia. I admire their conviction in busting their butts and working together to raise children and run yet another biz. I'll never forget the day I watched that trailer with all those totes head out toward their life ahead. Even the UPS guy showed up and walked alongside with us. Two dogs went along and lived happy lives with kids and big open fields to run in. That, my friend, is the American dream. It's my turn with the mower and my job is done. Two rains have thickened up the orchard grass so it's fixin' to be a mess out there. Plus, I'm taking care of the edges by the field so my friend Mr. Snake doesn't take up residence. I wish I had a video of me lurking around everywhere outside watching for the evil one to just be in my line of vision. Ya'll would laugh your asses off, I swear. I mean I'm talking total freakout and that's dangerous for somebody with blood pressure problems, ya know? Just kiddin'..last time I looked him squarely in the eye as he hung all over the bush and said "Hell to the naw!" I think he heard me.