I Keep Hearing the RotoRooter Jingle in My Head

Did a thing Wednesday. I went into a UVA Surgery Center in Culpeper and came out with a bit less soft tissue! No, no face lift. Nah, it wasn't a lipectomy. Nope, nothing so exciting as an appendix or a gall bladder. 

I let a relative stranger (albeit a very nice gentleman with whom I apparently share a love of many Virginia wines!) insert a green laser into my body at a particularly sensitive entry point, and "vaporize" a good deal of obstructing prostate tissue. This ain't your momma's PowerPoint pointer! This guy wasn't just pointing at stuff! He was VAPORIZING portions of my body!! 

In all honesty, it went very smoothly. I have a very strong family history of prostate cancer, so I have spent my adult life diligently keeping up with regular yearly checkups, getting PSA tests and trying to get doctors to actually examine me. My numbers have always, thus far, been good! Fortunately, my particular prostate issue, while extremely aggravating, is totally benign. 

Unfortunately, the icing on this rather macabre proverbial cake is getting sent home with an indwelling Foley catheter! Now many of you may know about my many years working as a surgical assistant. I have both inserted and removed many catheters in those years. But fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, I never had the "opportunity" to experience this from the patients' perspectives. Until now. And ya know, I'm not a fan. This particular Foley that I am "wearing" has a 45 cc balloon, which is full of at least that much saline...although I swear it's a gallon and a half! Then, just to remind me that I just had surgery, I suppose, the bore of the tubing that exits this most sensitive area of my person to carry away liquid wastes, feels like it must be some of that white tubing from which they build patio furniture. Or at least a 22 rifle barrel. 

Oh, and I get to remove it myself in the morning! Well, again, the truth is he asked if I wanted to remove it rather than make that hour and fifteen minute-drive tomorrow. I probably had one of those testosterone-fueled, hold-my-beer moments and said, "Sure! No problem!"

But after that hour and fifteen minute drive home today with this thing feeling like a fence post in my lower half, I am actually glad my ego got its way and I can remove it myself, in my own home, in my own time, my own way. Hopefully most of the neighbors will be working and so, won't hear me scream. 

Now, while I hope this little day-in-the-life tale entertained you just a little, or even made you smile or chuckle, that was not my primary objective for sharing. This is simply a great wat to remind all you men out there to stay on top of your own health! All men should be getting a PSA, or Prostatic Specific Antigen test, after turning 50. Some high risk men should start even earlier, say 40 or 45. Talk to your doctor. It could save your life!

#oldmandisease

#bph 

#talktoyourdoctor

#youoweittoyourself

#youoweittoyourfamily

Sara Bareilles' New Song, "Home" Hits Close To, Well...Home

 

This new Sara Bareilles song, “Home” hits me in the chest each time I listen to it. It’s from an album called “GOOD GRIEF” that she’s about to release in August of this year. (2026)

It opens my grief box, and certain sudden realizations just begin to overtake me: the grief I still carry from the loss of my mother; the grief I still carry because, although I was around him all my life, my father died without ever understanding how to know or love me; the grief I hadn't named but now recognize as the deep impact of the Covid pandemic; the grief for our dying democracy; the grief I carry for dear friends lost in accidents, and in horrid struggles with disease. 

Then, by fate or mysterious algorithm, this podcast, All There Is, appears in my feed on YouTube. 

Understand…I’m a HUGE Sara Bareilles fan! Sara’s poetry, her complex melodies, and her incredible voice are beyond stunning, in my opinion! She’s a storyteller with all the special talents needed to convey those stories in the most pleasing music!

I also have always loved and respected Anderson Cooper. His award-winning reporting, his excellent debate moderation, and his most empathetic humanity are enviably inspiring. 

Watching this interchange, including the backstory of the song, just squeezed my heart until it hurt.

Sara’s brilliance. Cooper’s raw emotion. Her descriptions of our “humanness” and the importance of sharing our grief, our stories, and the discussion that ensued about how we are all basically the same, with so many of the same needs, and about learning to understand what is truly important, and what is just bullshit…it was all so familiar, like I knew it, but it had been hiding within me, and they were shining lights in there and saying, “here they are! This is what you know is important! You must have just forgotten!”

Then this edition of this podcast kind of threw the lid back on  my grief box and shoved my head in it, and held me there, like some high school nerd getting a swirlie! I watched them as the listened to both “Home” and “Salt, Then Sour, Then Sweet” and I sobbed! But to be fair, so did they! It was just so much at once. And they weren’t done!! They then played a video of Gavin Creel, one of Sara’s best friends, now deceased, playing and singing one of Sara’s most beautiful songs. More sobbing! 

All that said, I also began to understand more deeply the connections that I do have, that I am blessed with, and thank the universe for those people around me who make my life more wonderful, just by being open and honest and available. 

I’m sharing all this because I honestly hope you will go watch the entire video. I promise, despite the heart-wrenching subject matter and conversation, you will be touched, enlightened, and hopefully changed. The link is below.

https://youtu.be/OQLNyoCZZV0?is=IKfoU94dfMBkFY5i

Some Thoughts on a Dark Day

 

 

I haven't posted in this blog for a while, but today, my heart is heavy, my head is pounding, and I'm stressed beyond anything healthy, so I feel it may help to collect some thoughts again, and write them down.

This morning, a Facebook friend, and someone I like, but have not really been close to, posted a remark about how having “temper tantrums and meltdowns over an election” is “just a problem in itself” 

While I’m not sure to whom or to what incident this person is referring, it caused me to think about what’s going on in my own mind this morning. I’m hoping this will be the catharsis I need to work past this and get myself on a path to my own recovery. 

First, I’d like to offer that some of us who are not particularly happy with the election results may be worried about the future of our retirement funds, which are likely going to take a huge hit. 

Some of us who enjoy nature and try to be good stewards of the environment are worried that this president-elect is going to make good on his promises to roll back protections of all lands, including federal lands, and open them up to drilling, pipeline placement, etc. This would include rolling back manufacturing standards to allow for further massing pollution of our lands, all in the name of greed for the very rich.

Some of us older citizens may be worried, and rightly so, about our healthcare and the Social Security we worked all our lives toward. 

Some of us may be worried about ourselves or our friends, whose lives may be different in some way, but whom we know will likely be further persecuted simply for seeking their own happiness. 

Some of us may be looking at our children or grandchildren, and wondering what kind of or how much world will be left for them in the not so distant future. 

Some of us may be worried about proposed tariffs on imported goods, which is only going to raise the prices for those of us, some of whom can only afford said imported goods.

Some of us may be concerned that the experts’ opinions about the collapse of our economy, and thus the world’s economy may come to pass very soon.

Some of us probably worry that businesses, schools, municipalities, and other employers may soon be able to completely discriminate against people of color, creed, sexual orientation, and even political affiliation. 

I’m sure many of us worry that the current justice system is a joke, and that much of it comes down to which side of the political fence a judge sits on, as to how cases will be tried.

Many of us, I’m quite sure, worry about the future of women’s physical autonomy, and prenatal healthcare, and how the government is poised to control it completely.

Lots of us worry about the large white supremacist element in and under the influence of these newly elected officials. 

We should all be worried about the immigrant population, and the integral part they play in our workforce and our economy. Harassing and marginalizing this group is very dangerous. 

 

I'm sure many of us are worried about the promises to pull out of NATO and the UN, as well as  

The middle and lower classes should absolutely be concerned that the upper class is living so well off us as workers, consumers, etc., while not paying anywhere near their fair share of taxes. Greed, not money, is indeed the root of all evil. 

Many of us, even those of us raised as Christians, are worried that the current christian nationalism is dangerously blasphemous behavior, and that some people have instead begun worshiping a human…a very flawed human.

Some of us, and yes, even those of the Christian faith, recognize that this upcoming administration seems hell-bent on persecuting those of other faiths, despite the teachings they themselves purport to follow. 

I think, for me personally, my biggest surprise and regret is that half this country that I’ve lived in and loved most of my life, has indicated that lying, stealing, hating, cheating, hurting, marginalizing, and generally being evil to one’s fellow man, is now normalized, even worshiped. 

Some of us fear that American democracy has died, and America will never be ‘great again.’ 

So, friend, I’m not saying any of this is what caused you to make the remark on Facebook today, but I implore you to step outside yourself for a moment, and to think about what some other folks might be feeling or thinking or worrying about. 

So, to summarize what some of us folks are concerned about:

Greed

Bigotry

Racism

Greed

Our livelihoods

Healthcare

Greed

Physical autonomy

Mysogyny

Greed

The economy

Rising prices

Greed

Taxes 

Misplaced worship

Greed

Job security

Justice and fairness

Greed

Accountability

Pollution

Greed

Climate change

A future for our children

 

Face Masks in 2020

Who ever thought we'd be isolated in our homes, afraid to go out among people, afraid to touch surfaces, afraid to go to our families' homes even, for fear of carrying some dread disease to them, or fear of contracting something ourselves?

Well, that is where we are, and if you are NOT afraid of these things, then you have not taken the time to educate yourself about COVID-19, and you may be a big part of the problem. This is serious business. Be serious about it. Read reliable articles, not partisan political hack rags. Listen to revered scientists, not some jackass politician. Question motives of those who would have you believe this isn't something to be afraid of, because they have other motives than quelling your fears. Again, this is SERIOUS BUSINESS.

So, yesterday the CDC announced that they now recommend that we wear masks when we're out for any reason. Now, this is not written in the article, but they don't mean if you are taking a lone walk in the neighborhood, or you're taking your dog out. There is no reason to believe that the virus is floating on the air, waiting for you to just breathe it in. But if you are going into any business, home, or other building where other are, or others have been, you should wear a mask. There are several reasons for this.

There are basic reasons people wear these kinds of masks. 1) to protect oneself, and 2) to protect others from oneself. Number one is intuitive, but if you need an explanation, it may help you from breathing in some particulate that someone exhaled near you if they didn't practice social distancing, for instance. In and of itself, the mask is only as effective as you allow it to be. While wearing it, you MUST keep your hands off of it, you can't be adjusting it, moving it, pulling it off, etc. You are highly likely to basically contaminate your hands on surfaces in any given space, so messing with the mask is just going to contaminate that, and put the virus closer to your mucus membrane, and thus into your system.

That second reason, to protect others, people don't seem to understand. You are healthy, right? No symptoms of anything, right? No sniffles, fever, cough. Well, guess what! You can be carrying this disease and never know it! That's right! At any moment of any day, you could have picked up the germ from someone else who also may not have known he or she was carrying it, or you could have inadvertently touched some surface where the virus landed, and was hanging around just waiting for someone to pick it up and spread it before its life cycle ended. And now, you, if you didn't at least wear a mask, could easily be spreading this virus to more people every day. See how the cycle works? You could literally cause the death of others.

SO, back to masks. Masks are just one way that we can make it harder for this virus to pass from one person to another. They are not perfect, and we are still learning about what works best, but it's time to start the fight, nonetheless, because at least we know that masks can HELP decrease the spread of this insidious disease. If you don't think it's worth trying, then please, go to the ocean and throw yourself in, so the rest of us have a chance!

This past week, even before the CDC recommendation, I started researching many people's articles and ideas about masks. I have read university studies; I've read epidemiologists' thoughts; I've read state and local health departments' input; I've watched countless videos;  looked at a hundred or so mask patterns; researched materials; and I've realized it's enough to make your head spin. Having worked in an operating room for years, and having learned about the efficacy of masks even all those years ago, I guess I have some baseline understanding of the med/surg mask to start with. Add to that the scientific studies that I've been reading, and I've put together some ideas for making masks at home to help protect my family and myself.  I have settled on a face-fitting, easy-to-wear, comfortable fabric mask with a special pocket where one can insert a paper coffee filter for extra protection. This pattern was published online by  a group called Masks of Love, Western North Carolina, based in Asheville, I believe.  The sewing instructions can be found there. The printable pattern is linked below.     https://www.masksoflove.org/

(NOTE: I modified this pattern slightly so that the front and the back are separately finished off at the ends, and then sewn together. This creates basically an open tunnel, into which I slipped half a standard coffee filter. I also created a small tunnel at the bridge of the nose and inserted a piece of 12 gauge aluminum wire [rustproof] with the ends turned under to make them blunt. This creates a malleable nose-pinch to make the mask fit tightly to your face.)

So, if you have sewing skills, you may want to think about not only making some for yourselves, but about making some for others who you know may need one.  It's time we go back to thinking about and caring for others. I'm just going to say that again. It's time we go BACK to thinking about and caring for others!

THE PATTERN I USED IS HERE.

SOUL-SEARCHING AT THE MOVIES

Tonight, we went to the local cinema to see the film, “Joni 75: A Birthday Celebration.” Joni Mitchell, one of my very favorite singer-songwriters of all time has turned 75, and some of her musician friends threw her a party in the form of a tribute concert. Thank God someone made the decision to film the entire event!

I had seen lots of little references to the birthday celebration online, including some short clips of one of my favorite musicians, James Taylor, participating on stage.  When the event popped up on Facebook advertising this filmed concert and celebration, I  jumped at the opportunity and immediately bought tickets!

The moment the film began, I was thoroughly enthralled. And I’m not proud of this, but 2 minutes in, and basically for the rest of the film, I had a lump in my throat, and tears streamed down my face. This old guy’s dry eyes were not dry tonight! It was really hard not to openly sob a couple of times! Today, ironically, a friend posted a meme on my Facebook timeline with a picture of a little boy with his eyes closed, and his hand on his heart, and it said, “That feeling you get when music touches your soul.” This film, and the music in it, not only touched my soul, but embraced it, stroked it, rewarded it.

Why would a grown man weep like this during a concert movie? Well, I asked myself that repeatedly throughout the movie. And in silence, I responded with many answers.

I wept because the music was so good. The melodies were lovely and unpredictable, and the lyrics were sheer poetry. My soul was, indeed, touched.

I wept because I thought about how proud these musicians must have felt to be a part of this event, even how the instrumentalists on the stage must have been to both perform with all this stellar talent, and to perform in tribute to Joni Mitchell, this amazing singer-songwriter!

I wept at the performances, for the pure raw emotion with which they delivered Joni’s songs. Each one was more magnificent than the last.

I wept at the shots of the rapt audience faces, swept into the spell of melody and lyric and emotion.

I wept at the comradery of the musicians onstage and off. This common cause was obviously a truly unifying force!

I wept because nearly every song flooded my brain with memories...memories of myself listening to Joni’s music growing up, memories of events, or things I was doing at a time when one of the other of these songs were playing, memories of emotions that poured out every time I could remember hearing ‘that song.’

I wept for all those people who I knew would love this, but who were not here to enjoy it with us.

I wept because I was lucky enough to be sitting there, watching this amazing event up close and almost personal, with an amazing sound system.

I wept because one of the artists presented, Kris Kristofferson, showed obvious signs of dementia, but with help from Brandi Carlile, performed beautifully.

I wept at the way Joni looked, frail, old, still very beautiful, but vulnerable, and knowing her health was failing.

Mostly I wept, I realized, at my own inadequacies: my innate need to make music, to sing, to perform, to please an audience, and my inability to do so, as well, as much, and as satisfyingly as these artists. I wept at the choices I’d made in life, putting music farther down the list of important things to do. I wept that these people were living fulfilled dreams, and that I was not. I wept because my years left on this earth are much fewer, and there is no chance I can improve that situation.

So, I wept. I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not ashamed. I have a heart. I feel emotions. I refuse to let convention or someone’s skewed view of gender or expected behavior dominate me.  I wept. And then I got over it. The important things that remain are that my soul and spirit were enriched and renewed tonight. The emotional releases are cathartic and cleansing. I’m pretty sure I will sleep better tonight too!

Happy and sad tears flowed from this same pair of eyes, down the same face, and onto the same collar simultaneously. I wondered for a moment, if they were scientifically analyzed, happy tears and sad tears had the same or different compositions.

  

Epilogue:

If you can't tell from this piece, I felt this film was wonderful, amazing, stunning! It's filled with some of the best performances I've seen...hands down! Performers include Norah Jones, James Taylor, Rufus Waynewright, Emmylou Harris, Seal, and Diana Krall, just to name a few. I actually believe that, even if you aren't a die-hard Joni fan like myself, you will still marvel at this collection of work. Do yourself a favor.

https://www.musiccenter.org/tickets/events-by-the-music-center/joni-75/

Your Life-Touch: Tribute to my Friend, Ricky Wilkins

 

YOUR LIFE-TOUCH

In your all-too-brief time on this big blue ball,

You touched so many, influenced so much.

Honest as the rain.  Deeper than the ocean.

Brilliant and confident and humble. 

Intellectual and humanitarian.

Direct. Witty.

To say you were talented is to describe the sky as big.

You taught, mentored. You enhanced and improved all with whom you performed.

You played anything and everything in any needed key,

And often on a keyboard that was held together with duct tape and a promise.

If ever ivories were really tickled, I’m sure it was you who made it happen!

Your fingers danced like a chorus line!

You wrote, you played, you sang, and all so beautifully, and yet,

You stepped aside to share the light when the time came for others to shine.

You rarely, if ever, left anyone wondering what you were thinking.

You freely spoke your mind, without a worry about anyone disagreeing.

Your sugar was the sweetest ever, and your acid just as bitter.

We watched you in awe.

We listened to you with amazement and envy.

We read your brilliant political rants and wished we’d said those things!

And now, my friend, like the best in show business, you’ve once again left us wanting more.

Well played, Ricky.

Well played.

George F. Hoffman

2016

THAT'S NOT MY MOTHER

(As I watched my mother go through illnesses, some dementia, and age-related decline, I would sometimes be dismayed that a woman so very vital could be reduced to this frail, dependent person before me. A woman who had done so much in her life to help others; who had worked until the age of 84; who was so active in her community and church; a woman who had overcome crippling childhood disease, raised three children of her own, helped raise a sister....how could this woman be the same woman before me, I would sometimes ask myself. I began this poem last year, before my mother's death. Yesterday, on Mother's Day,  I somehow remembered starting this, and I thought that it was time I finished it.
This is not only for me and for my mother, but dedicated to all of you out there who may be watching loved ones' lights dim. Have faith. It's the only way.)

THAT’S NOT MY MOTHER
 by George F. Hoffman

That woman there, in Mom’s big chair,
That’s not my mother.
That woman has a distant stare,
She rarely gets up from that chair.
That’s not my mother.
That woman moans, complains and whines,
Demands, commands, repeats, reclines.
I’m thinking maybe these are signs,
That’s not my mother.

That woman there, in Mom’s big chair,
That’s not my mother.
My mom has always been so kind.
She’s never been of unsound mind.
That’s not my mother.
My mom works rings around us all.
She charges like a fireball!
My mother has it on the ball!
That’s not my mother.

I don’t know where that lady’s from.
That’s not my mother.
She doesn’t even sound like Mom.
Although she sits with great aplomb,
That’s not my mother.
Mom’s always strong. She’s never frail.
Mom is robust, not weak and pale.
Mom wouldn’t need help to inhale.
That’s not my mother.

That woman there in that big chair,
That’s not my mother.
A resemblance, maybe. But I would swear
That’s not my mother.
My mom would not have lived this way.
My mother cherished every day.
It may seem strange, but I have to say,
That’s not my mother.