Until I’m back earning income as Amazing Jeffo and/or public speaking about my book, Seeing Light in the Darkness: A Story of Surviving Affliction with Laughter and Grace, Devon and I are doing our best to make ends meet financially. In the process of finding ways to save money, such as couponing, cutting back on non-essentials and other things, we’re discovering, as I’m sure it’s true with many people, that our home is filled with more food than we’re using. Therefore, we’ve decided to use up what we have before buying more. For example, we normally spend about $100 to $125 weekly. The last couple of weeks since trying to use up the food left in the house, we’ve only spent an average of $60 each week.

I think having more food in your house than what is needed on a weekly basis provides people with a sense of security more so than as a stomach filler. By not wasting as much food we’re getting more value for the amount we eat. Since food is a commodity I’ll treat it accordingly. Buy low, eat high.

 

I’ve just finished reading a fascinating book, an abridged version of the history of Cliff Notes.

 

Two weeks ago we submitted the manuscript of my book to the editors of Xulon Press, who are reviewing it for strengths and weaknesses. I just received the results. The Xulon reviewer really liked it with just minor areas needing strengthening. Devon and I have to assume their assessment of the book is honest and not just what an aspiring self published author wants to hear. Our reasoning is based on the majority of their comments being positive. Since Xulon takes a percentage of each direct sale, they want the book to succeed as much as I do. We’re encouraged by all they enjoyed about the book. Here are some of their comments:

 

     “This endearing memoir follows a man’s journey from conditions, such as ulcerative colitis and arthritis to stuttering and blindness. His touching story includes pearls of wisdom, scriptures, wit and humor that the author used to deal with his afflictions. Readers are also introduced to family members and witness a multitude of adventures the author experiences, keeping this reading lively. This story will inspire and intrigue any reader experiencing any emotions or physical setbacks, as the reading contains a variety of engaging themes.

 

Manuscript’s Strengths:

• The manuscript contains a highly organized and crisp appearance. Essential front matter, such as the acknowledgements, introduction and prologue aptly inform readers of important content about the book before they begin reading the first chapter. The book also contains supplemental back matter, such as review questions, myths about blindness and interviews.
• The author’s ability to keep a sense of humor and pursue his dreams throughout his disabilities is an extremely inspiring message that can impact any reader. The author demonstrates courage and strength of character in coping with challenges without self-victimization.
• This manuscript is well written and maintains a logical flow of events. The author has lived an interesting life and has overcome many odds. The use of humor and vivid details will keep readers engrossed in the text and transport them to each event the author outlines. Chapters are cohesive and the narrative contains continuity in thoughts and ideas.”

 

As I progress in the healing of my broken left femur, I’m beginning to resume activities, some of which I haven’t attempted since September 2012. In the last couple weeks I have showered, walked with a cane rather than walker, gotten into and out of bed on my own, and today, climbed into a barstool at our island.

 

Most of the above sound pretty mundane, I’m sure. But one resumed activity of mine threw Devon and Krypto into a tizzy. Since I now have enough balance and strength, last night in the bathroom, I used my cane to push down my sweats and slide out of them, leaving empty slippers under the collapsed pant legs.

 

This morning, when Devon entered the bathroom, she looked down at the vacated slippers protruding from beneath the puddled sweats and gasped! She thought I had come down with a severe case of Incredible Shrinking Man-ism. Naturally, trusting in Krypto’s advanced canine olfactory sense, she called him into the bathroom to verify what had happened to me. He sniffed my slippers and wagged his tail indicating he smelled that familiar daddy aroma. His eyesight, though good for a dog, wasn’t microscopic enough to see my presence.

 

Believe it or not, as I make this allusion drawn from the above classic 1957 Sci-Fi movie, Devon tells me it is, at this moment, recording on our digital video recorder. I’m a magician…but with these kinds of powers?!?

 

For those cynics who don’t believe this Incredible Shrinking Man coincidence, look on the Turner Classic Movie archive at the time of this posting for 3:30 p.m. April 26, 2013.

 

Thanks for reading. Please comment on anything. Until next time…

One of the innovations of the 1970’s was harnessing the mighty Polyester. Before this scientific breakthrough, every piece of clothing had to be ironed because it contained natural fibers that wrinkled. This development in clothing technology was called “wash and wear.” Personal research I have conducted reveals that Adam and Eve used the technology of their day–“tear and wear.”

 

Jerry Kill is the football coach for my college alma mater, the University of Minnesota Golden Gophers. His coaching emphasizes the fundamentals. I read a story in the sports pages that the theme of the recently completed spring practices was “toughness.” Unfortunately none of the practice sessions could be conducted outdoors because of the cold, wet weather.

 

Pizza Hut advertises cheese inside the crust. The development inspired an idea. How about a ham sandwich with the bread inside the meat…I’m working out the details.

 

I have another beef. Granted, I might be venturing into the realm of mixed metaphor because my beef is about yogurt. Devon uses a brand called Chobani; it’s a higher-quality yogurt that uses active and live cultures. Naturally it comes with a higher price tag than other brands, at least $1 each. I’ve noticed that all the selections with fruit have the fruit underneath the yogurt and require stirring before eating. You’d think for the extra cost they could at least stir up the fruit with the yogurt!

 

My wife Devon rang me moments ago from work.

“Jeff, was that you who just called?”

”No, why do you ask?”

“Well, someone on my voicemail said just one syllable then hung up. But that syllable sounded like your voice,” she explained.

“You should have realized right away it wasn’t me. I would never have left but a one syllable message. In fact, at the very least, as a former stutterer, even one syllable might have taken several syllables,” I explained.

 

Over the many months of my bone mending people have continued asking, “How do you feel, Jeff?”

From the time I was diagnosed last September, first with a cracked femur, almost until my last doctor’s appointment, March 18^th, I felt no difference in my level of recovery. Shortly before my appointment I began to notice I could bear incidental weight on my leg without any discomfort.

I’m happy to announce, now one month later, I have taken some baby steps even without using a cane, let alone a walker. My next goal is to start walking on our treadmill. I’m encouraged seeing results that are closer to the level of mobility I had prior to my injury. Before I broke my leg I only needed to use the cane when outside because of the unpredictability of terrain.

My cautious orthopedist wants me to continue using my walker when I leave the house, mostly to prevent the consequences in the event I fall. What a killjoy! Using a cane outside of my home is fine. But using a walker outside might be damaging to my character! People might misjudge me and accuse me of being a street walker.

 

I don’t know what Devon and I are going to do when we’re finished watching all the 6 years of TV episodes of “Leave it to Beaver,” which we’ve become kind of dependent on for relaxation and restoration from the stresses of the day. In its simpler, more innocent view, the show enables us to see and contrast that earlier time with the complexity of today. If we had watched it with the mindset of people living in the 50’s and early 60’s, we would have taken the comments by the characters in the show, as well as the situations, for their face value. What’s most enjoyable about the show for us is that it gives us an opportunity to reflect.

We just watched an episode where 12 year old Beaver regrets giving away his train set he used when he was younger. His father helped him get over his upset and understand that priorities change as we mature. Beaver responded, “But when does a guy know that he’s too old for kid stuff?”

Devon observed that a higher level of self-reflectiveness and maturity is required when looking at this situation from a different point of view – mine. “When does a guy know when he’s old enough to still like kid stuff?”

For those of you who do not have an ability to view such sitcoms, stay tuned to our continuing adventures in the, soon to be classic, The Leave it to Jeffrey Show.

For anyone who already has a book manuscript written, such as myself, and is ready to have it published and available for purchase by the general public, be aware you are nowhere close to the end. Aside from the writing and production of the physical book, the greatest work lies in letting people know the book is available through traditional avenues, such as Barnes and Noble, other brick and mortar stores, and, of course, Amazon.com and other online places. Naturally, converting a manuscript to eBook format is desirable to appeal to the changing habits of readers. Not only is the conversion to the eBook format very difficult, there are four conversion formats, each with their own unique process.

And I’ve only touched on some of the many steps and details necessary to get a new book in the hands of potential readers!

With Devon’s schedule already swamped, my other assistants not regularly available to me, and anyone within my circle not necessarily an expert on the subject of bringing a new book through the entire process, I decided to hire a self-publishing company, Xulon Press. Instead of worrying the book might be held up by logistics described above, I’ve given it into the hands of experts.

Online research indicated to us Xulon Press has one of the highest ratings among self-publishers. They offer different packages, depending on how much they will do and how much will be left to the author. I chose a plan that’s about 40% the cost of their full service plan. I figure I can add services along the way. I was also told it will take 45-90 days before the book is in place and available for purchase.

Good! Then it’s all done, right? Wrong! All any self-publishing company does is to put the book in place where people can find it. It’s up to the author to do the vast majority of its promotion. Reading about all the options have taught us about steps we can do, such as using social media to draw and direct attention to the book.

We’re also working on a Kickstarter campaign. Kickstarter is a fund raising service you submit your idea, dream or invention to and explain to potential funders who follow the website why your project is worthy of their financial support.

 

A friend of ours uses Siri software on her iPad to send posts to her Facebook and create emails. Speech-to-text software is kind of like someone with partial hearing loss. Actually, even worse than that,  because someone with hearing loss would likely ask you to repeat what you said. Siri makes assumptions of what you said and goes with it. Unintentional humor can be a result but so can embarrassment.

Our friend dictated a message to her Facebook timeline to congratulate her college-age son for a particular achievement and turned off her machine without checking the message. Her intent was to post, “We are so proud of our son.” However, her software interpreted what she had said as coming from someone with a British language background. Her message posted, “We are so proud of arsehole.” She didn’t understand her son’s sarcastic response until she double checked her message and was mortified.

 

A friend of Devon’s visited recently and broke pizza with us. I mean “broke” in the breaking of bread sense, not the gassy results of pizza sense.

Her friend said she would lend me her DVD set of the 1960’s cartoon, “Jonny Quest.” The series remains as my all-time favorite. It has everything a 13-year-old male mentality could dream of: Sci-fi storylines, guns, monsters, and bad guys. Immaturity has always been my fountain of youth.

I was disappointed to find out that Devon’s friend did not have Jonny in hand when she arrived at our home because someone else was still using it. Boy! Was I surprised a few days later to find in our mailbox a brand new Jonny Quest DVD set. I love Devon’s friends.

After watching several episodes, Devon and I thought it would be interesting to listen to the Spanish language option on the menu to see how the voices compared to English actors. What I found most fascinating was the bark of the cartoon dog, Bandit, sounded like that of a Chihuahua.

 

A friend of mine is helping his economically-minded buddy collect wood for heating his home. To save money, his friend is also refurbishing an old, dilapidated structure, in which he plans to eventually live. It’s taken his friend longer to complete the house than he anticipated because he has a hard time distinguishing firewood from parts of his house.

 

If any of you wish to read some good, original humor, stay tuned to my next blog.  Okay, okay, the humor that’s good isn’t original and the humor that’s original isn’t good.

My family celebrated Easter for the first time without my Dad who recently passed away. The empty spot at the end of the restaurant table loomed large. I commented to my brother Steve how much quieter it seemed without Dad there, odd because my dad was a very quiet man.

“I suppose it’s quieter because we all enjoyed telling Dad things going on in our lives,” Steve speculated.

Originally Devon and I weren’t going to join my family at the restaurant because the buffet was $30 a person and with me being out of work so long, our budget is strained to say the least.

When my sister Dana heard of this, she called from Chicago and offered to pay our way feeling it was particularly important for the entire family to be together to support my widowed mom. She wouldn’t take no for an answer and we received a check in the mail a day or two later. When Sunday came, Devon was still too weak from her sinus infection to accompany me to the restaurant. My brother Steve picked me up. My sister requested I keep secret about paying for our meal. When dinner was over Steve said, “I’ll pay for your meal Jeff.”

Before I could give it another thought, my instinctively opportunistic nature responded, “Gee! Thanks Steve.”

But after getting home, I called Dana and explained that I would be refunding her money.

“Forget it,” she said. “I sent you the money also because you and Devon are going through money issues,” she added.

Without even trying to be cunning, I came out pretty good. A nice meal and a check from my sister.

 

After several weeks feeling uncertain about her living arrangements following my dad’s death, including no less than four living arrangements to consider, Mom was invited to live with my brother in a house he recently purchased in Mesa Arizona. My mom is very excited though it will be difficult for us not having her around here in Minnesota. Blood may be thicker than water but sunshine is nicer than snow.

 

I Had my first shower in six months whether I needed it or not. The absence of showering was in part due to the healing of My 16 inch scar and the danger of trying to get into the shower on one leg without rebreaking my femur. At the very least I can say that The only advantage of those who had contact with me at the four month point of me going without a shower was that they avoided being one of those who had contact with me at the point of me going 5 months without a shower. And you don’t want to know about those who had contact with me at the 6 month mark.

Since going so long without a shower cannot be considered as a badge of honor, I atoned for my rarified status with lots of sponge baths along the way.

 

 

I get my fair share of spam emails, some of them enticing me to open up a link within the body of the message. The consequence of my action would undoubtedly provide me, free of charge, with a virus in my computer.

The junk emails seem to go through cycles. I haven’t received Viagra, knock-off Rolex watches nor Flex garden hose emails for a while. The current batch of junk includes a supposed email from American Airlines, which I delete in a machine gun fashion along with dozens more. The subject line says “airline ticket.” Curious, I open to the body of the email to read the details. It contained all the typical confirmation information as if I had purchased a ticket.

As I read through it the correct spelling of words, the layout etc. looked pretty realistic. But the spammers didn’t fully carry out their specious thought process. Scanning down to see the destination of my ready-to-print ticket had me round tripping to Indianapolis….Indianapolis?  With all due respect to the Indianapolis Chamber of Commerce, you aren’t exactly everyone’s vacation hot spot but don’t tell this to the virus spammers.

 

For those of you who are 40 plus years old, did you hear about that asphyxiated comedy team? They’re known as “The Smothered Brothers.” Their act sure left me breathless!

 

Unrelated to anything, I just learned that the original thesaurus became extinct one million years ago, vanishing without a word.

 

I have hired a national publishing company to promote my book, Seeing Light in the Darkness: A Story of Surviving Affliction with Laughter and Grace. More of what all that entails in the next post. Stay tuned.

As I Recover from my broken femur over the last many months, I admit I haven’t used my time as wisely as I had first imagined. Perhaps telling people at the time of my injury, all the projects I could get to that I wouldn’t be able to if out working as Amazing Jeffo, might have been said actually more for my sake than to relieve the concern of others. Not having had any experience of how long a broken leg takes to heal, my comments might have been, in reality, inwardly directed as a coping mechanism against worry.

Either way, during these drawn out months, I’ve watched daytime TV more than a body should. I can summarize a good deal of what advertising is spent on. In general, daytime commercials are targeted to the unemployed either by choice or through no fault of their own, and to seniors. Commercials targeted at seniors are companies selling medical services and devices, which gives the stereo-type that if you’re a senior, you’re lucky to still be alive!

An equal amount of commercials are sponsored by law firms suing companies selling medical services and devices to said seniors and unemployed.

 

I just figured out why so many people so often misplace or lose their cell phones. What do you expect—it’s a mobile device.

 

Devon is on the last stages of recovering from her exhausting sinus infection which has caused her to miss about three weeks of work. Yesterday after returning from work and winding down for a while, I asked her how she felt.

“Tired but not too bad. I noticed my voice kept giving out then coming back,” she responded.

“Well. You’ve been home for a while and your voice sounds okay now,” I commented.

“Well, when I’m home I’m more often than not, resting my voice—funny, isn’t it? She quipped.

 

On a related note, to break the monotony, I thought it would be funny to hide in the bathroom right before Devon arrived home. I said to my PCA “Watch. Devon will first glance in the living room for me then probably ask, “Where’s Jeff?”

While busy telling my PCA my plans, Devon walked into the house and I was sure she had overheard me plotting.

Later she told me she had not heard me. I said, “I was talking pretty loud. How could you not have heard me?”

In a gentle voice she responded, “I don’t always hear you talking honey. Your voice is sort of like pleasant household background.”

 

I have a beef with our internet provider. Our incoming and outgoing emails were getting hung up. After calling our internet provider, the rep explained they had changed the outgoing and incoming ports for security reasons but they’d be more than happy to tell us the new port numbers for a fee.

“A fee!? You’re the ones who decided to change the numbers for security sake. Isn’t security an assumed, built in part of normal internet service?” I reasoned.

“A fee for updated port numbers would not be charged if you used our domain. But since you are using your own domain, an affiliate company to ours is charging the fee,” was the rep’s response.

“I wasn’t charged in the past when security was updated. When did this policy begin?” I asked.

“It’s always been this way sir,” the rep answered.

I persisted and evidently my tenacity paid off because we got the updated email port numbers without having to pay for them.

I can’t help this reminding me of the “business: tactics of earlier generations in our country who charged people “protection money” to keep the status quo.

A few days earlier a self-motivated sales person from the same internet company evidently hungry for reaching Quota, misrepresented a special promotion and signed me up. She explained for a period of six months we would pay the same current $39. Monthly but double our MB speed. We were already on a one year promotion for $39. Monthly. Days later I find out that once this six month promotion is over, we will be discontinued from the one year $39 Monthly plan we’re now on and charged a higher “promotional rate” of $54 monthly.

Already on my naughty list, I also had to call my internet company about having just received an unsolicited cable box from them. I had explained when they first offered it that we wouldn’t need it because we use satellite TV.

“Oh that’s o.k. sir. It’s part of the 6 month promotion that increases your internet speed. If you don’t wish to change to cable, just store it in your garage for when you might need it,” the rep suggested.

“Sounds like a big waste of money for you and a nuisance for us to store it,” I responded annoyed.

I’m thinking about having a contest where readers figure out what the above topics all have in common. The contest is only open to people with A.D.D. Reader submissions are welcome. Stay tune for the results in my next blog.

 I take advantage of a homebound service that the public library provides. Volunteers from the library deliver recorded books to those such as myself, who have a bit more difficulty getting to the library. As someone blind, I also have the option of receiving recorded books through the mail from the MN Library for the Blind, which actually has a larger overall selection than the public library. But sometimes a particular book is available sooner through the local public library. I also enjoy getting recorded books locally because I’ve found, generally, they’re read by more professional sounding readers or in some cases actors, compared to narrators who specifically read to the blind.

At any rate, a lady named Mary, an avid reader herself, is the generous volunteer who delivers my listening material. My wife Devon also has a good friend named Mary who happens to be a school teacher. With all due consideration to their privacy, I can say that their respective last names start with a “W,” have two syllables with the latter ending with the letters, “er.” Since I never heard them speak together, side-by-side, I didn’t realize how similar sounding they were.

With visions and thoughts permeating my mind, inspired by the recent reading of the Stephen King book, “11-22-63,” I answered the phone.

“Hello Jeff!”

“Hi! 11-22-63 was great. I really enjoyed it! “I continued on about the book as Devon’s friend, Mary politely acknowledged my comments and patiently listened on…while the whole time I’m thinking I’m talking to the other Mary.

For those of you who haven’t been hit on the side of the head with a lead pipe, let me tell you what it’s like without the blood and gore. The length of time and depth of specificity of my monologue combined with the sudden realization that I was talking to someone completely different than who I thought I was talking to, caused an embarrassment-induced brain cramp I would liken to the afore-mentioned lead pipe.

After apologizing for what I’m sure was taken as a nonsensical conversation from the perspective of Devon’s friend, she responded, “That’s okay, Jeff. I’m used to listening to kindergarteners go on and on pointlessly.”

 

The other evening Devon finished frosting a homemade strawberry cake, which I couldn’t wait to try since strawberry is my favorite fruit. Krypto also seemed interested throughout the preparation of this dessert. Animal behavioral experts say a dog has the same cognitive levels as
that of a two year old child. Be that as it may, within the arena of everything food, Krypto can be measured in the realm of genius. He outsmarts us all the time.
After Devon, unbeknownst to me, placed a plate of cake down on the table next to me, she assisted me into my recliner. As I reached over to release the footrest latch, I hit the edge of the plate and flipped the cake up over my shoulder. It landed behind my chair.
The noise surprised me but it put Devon and Krypto instantly into high gear as they raced to employ their respective methods to clean up the chunks of cake strewn about. Granted, the cake contained no protein which would further damage his kidneys but as everyone knows, sugary food is not healthy to a dog, aside, of course, from the occasional jellybean.
I am very aware of the intellectual brilliance of my wife. No kidding about this.
Despite Devon instantly grasping the ramifications surrounding spilled cake, Krypto out-raced and out-maneuvered her and positioned himself to scarf up the spoils. A nice sized bite of the cake vanished as Krypto’s jaws clamped shut but Devon out-muscled our boy and scooped up the majority of the mess.
He laid there contentedly bordering on smugness as he licked the sweet goo off his whiskers.
We shook our heads; schnookered once again by the food genius otherwise known as Krypto!

 

My March 18 appointment with my orthopod included an X-ray which corroborates what previous X-rays seem to indicate, an ongoing femur healing pace of about 4% a week. What the X-ray cannot tell is how long the muscles and nerves will take until I’m walking pain free. Therefore, I’ve referred another month of scheduled shows through April to other competent magicians. I’m only recommending certain performers in my place, not only to leave my clients satisfied but to make me look good for possible future bookings.

 

A couple of weeks ago I received an invitation to perform at a convention of deaf magicians. I didn’t realize there were enough deaf magicians around to gather them for a convention. Gee! Maybe I’ll organize a convention for blind magicians. I’ll save a bundle by needing to only rent closet space…unless of course, another blind magician shows up, which could lead to overcrowding. 

 

If a bird splotch appears on your windshield is that the result of a cardinal sin?

 

Devon has been laid up with a sinus infection. She really must be sick. In her weakened state, here is one of her comments. “I know what side my butter is breaded on.”

 

We love our iPad except for its volume, which is generally too low. We came across a YouTube of John Lennon on The Mike Douglas show, an afternoon talk show from the 60’s & 70’s. To hear the video better, Devon suggested I hold the iPad upright on my lap. I was momentarily amazed when from across the way from me she commented on something that was showing on the screen. She laughed at my confusion, reminding me that the little speaker is on the back of the unit, not on the video side as with a TV or laptop. Yet another benefit to being blind! How a blind person holds the iPad doesn’t really matter. But I would think a sighted user would appreciate the speaker being on the same side as the screen.

 

For more A to Z topic coverage, please read my next blog.

Devon and I have noticed throughout the life of our dog, Krypto, the parallels between him and me. In general, we have both overcome a lot of physical challenges but most importantly, remain with our tails wagging. For example, unbeknownst to us when we purchased him as a pup, the pet store hadn’t realized Krypto had a severe case of giardia, a parasite that causes diarrhea. Ironically, his sad little face, as a result of his worn down condition, was the very reason Devon chose him over the rest of the overly wound up pups. Maybe the physical evidence of giardia also turned other potential buyers away, much to our benefit.

Another uphill battle for Krypto was when he turned five. He was diagnosed with lymphoma and given 3-6 months to live by vets at the University of Minnesota, a top notch institution for the treatment of animal diseases. He unexpectedly survived and is now called the “miracle dog” by clinicians at the U of M.

Now seven years old, he was recently diagnosed with chronic kidney failure. Though there’s no cure for this condition, a low protein diet will extend Krypto’s life. Protein is difficult on kidneys to process and contributes to toxification.

Perhaps the chemotherapy used to fight his lymphoma damaged his kidneys. But rather than being regretful or even resentful about this unexpected effect, the treatment at the time saved his life, giving us at least two additional years of his antics and comfort.

Converting Krypto to a low protein diet isn’t easy. A dog by nature is designed to be a carnivore; ask any tyrannosaurus…but, please, do it carefully!  Kryppy and I have always had an unspoken agreement when I eat hamburger, steak, pork, chicken, fish etc. Well, not exactly unspoken considering his animated utterances while watching me dine, which if put in the right sequence, could make him one of the better dog singers of our generation.

I feel bad that I can’t get through to him that denying him meat is for his own good. I wonder what’s going through his mind? Hopefully it isn’t, “If I can’t have it, how come you can Dad? I thought we was friends.” It might be easier for me to become a vegetarian than put myself through this self-inflicted torture.

As you know, I have been blogging for a good six months about my first-cracked-then-broken-femur. I appreciate people asking me how I feel, but it makes me somewhat frustrated since my recovery was mostly about time, not about how I feel. I couldn’t give the kind of updates they may have been anticipating such as, “Oh, now I can do this”…or “Now I can do that.” However, about mid-March I began commenting to Devon “I’m noticing my leg feels less touchy. Even when I inadvertently put more weight on it than I’m supposed to, it’s not barking at me like it has.”

My March 18 x-ray explained the reason for this: “The mega doses of vitamin D seem to be kicking in, Jeff! You’re femur is 70-80% healed” said my orthopod. I figure I’m healing at about a rate of 4% per week. I hope this means the muscle and nerves in the leg are healing at the same pace. I’ll ever so carefully jump for joy to get back to showbiz and the figurative rather than literal use of the expression, “break a leg,” next Month.

At any rate, since my orthopod said to bare as much weight on the leg as comfort dictates, I’ve been carefully testing its strength. After limited walking around the house with my PCA, I thought I’d surprise Devon and walk into the living room with just two support canes instead of my all too familiar walker. She was duly surprised and impressed and called out for Sir Krypto’s attention.

“Krypto! Look at Daddy!”

He poked his head out from around the couch, leaped to his feet and scampered right over. With joyful squeaks his expression and body language shared Devon’s thrill.

Krypto, who had become so use to seeing me with my walker which kept him from nestling up alongside me, perhaps was thinking, “Good! That scary looking skinny guy is out of the picture and won’t keep me away from my rightful place next to my dad!”

 

For dog lovers and anyone who could use a laugh, please read the chapter dedicated to Krypto in my new autobiography, “Seeing Light in the Darkness: A Story of Surviving Affliction with Laughter and Grace.” It’s currently available for purchase through my website:

www.amazingjeffo.com. Look for it in the coming weeks at all online outlets and hopefully on the shelves of Barnes and Noble.

Krypto’s chapter is titled, “Fur-Ever Yours.”

 

Excuse me for now. Nature’s calling. I need a back yard break.

I’m beginning the next natural step in promoting my new book, seeing Light in the Darkness: A Story of Surviving Affliction through Laughter and Grace. I’m turning it into an eBook.  We’re finding it to be at times overwhelming because of the many options.  To this point we’ve at least realized that Amazon is the biggest player in eBook sales followed by Barnes and Noble.  I know there’s plenty more to learn and will gladly welcome reader comments as my questions mount.

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I receive just as many telemarketing calls as the next guy. From the general teaching of my upbringing to be polite to others, along with the positive response I receive from doing so, I find it difficult cutting off telemarketer appeals for money without feeling it’s rude. But for many months now it’s been no problem to detach myself from this distracting interruption. And I only have my broken left femur to thank for it.

At the first sign of “How much can we count on you for, Mr. Smith?” I simply comment how sorry I am, but that I have broken my leg and been out of work for months.

“I am s-s-sso sorry to hear that. Good luck sir,” they say and they quickly conclude the call.

This broken leg thing is great! As with Amazing Jeffo and Jeff Smith, I’ve always loved changing lemons to lemonade.

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Lately Devon and I have been enjoying episodes of the old TV show, Leave It to Beaver, watched on Netflix. The show ran from the late 50’s until 1963. We’re old enough to enjoy the cute things the main character says. He’s about 7 years old. What we, however, enjoy the most about watching this show, is how dated and narrowly focused are the events and depictions of family life. For example, Ward Cleaver, the father, was explaining a larger point to his boys, Wally and Beaver. Part of what he was saying included the following:

“I’m sure you’ve heard the saying that a women’s place is in the home, boys. Well, since it’s in the home, she might as well be in the kitchen.”

Hard is may be to believe, this was not meant as a funny line since there was no canned laughter following what he said. We’re also amazed that these Cleaver boys don’t have to wedge their way through the front door. June Cleaver always prepares these enormous meals, breakfast, lunch and dinner with dessert even consisting of more than one item.

Our favorite character on the show is Larry Mondello, beaver’s best friend.  Larry is constantly coming up with sneaky and inappropriate activities that always come to a bad end.  We get a kick out of how Larry, every time, then blames Beaver for coming up with the bad idea. Beaver gives Larry a dirty look but we wish, just once, he’d sock Mondello in his chubby gut.

We had no sooner discussed what may have ever happened to this young actor when we saw him playing the part of a grandchild to Big Daddy in the movie, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

The father, played by Hugh Beaumont, continually deals with the repetitive theme of what approach to use to discipline his two boys. He’s forever miffed and bewildered when Wally and Beaver attempt to hide their naughtiness instead of admitting their error in judgment and facing the consequences. He’s upset is not so much because of what the boys wrongly did but their reason for trying to hide the deed.

“Gee Dad! We didn’t tell you what we did because we were afraid you’d hit us!”

The 1950’s were a transitional period regarding how children should be disciplined. The new thinking that was being taught was to be a friend to your child as well as a parent figure. Discussing things with your child rather than spanking them, according to pediatrician Dr. Spock and others, was the enlightened way of doing things.

I understand the desire to improve communication and openness between a parent and child but sometimes it’s not realistic. For example, if a child is willful but too young to reason with, a firm spank on their butt, but not too hard so as to to injure, gets the point across that there’s no negotiation involved. My thinking is based on trusting that an adult normally has more wisdom than a child. I also believe a timely spank helps the child to more easily make the connection between actions and consequences.

 

Jeepers! Don’t think I’m givin’ you the business when I’m askin’ ya to Check out my next swell post.

Coffee really does wake me up! My eyes snapped right open when I almost dropped a cup of hot coffee on my lap. A cup of adrenaline always trumps a cup of caffeine!

Speaking of coffee, am I slow witted because I forgot that Devon poured me a second cup of coffee this morning?  Or am I smart because I remembered I never drank a second cup of coffee this morning?

 

Speaking of smart, Krypto continues to amaze his mom and dad. If he doesn’t soon take care to hide his apparent genius, he’ll no longer be able to play dumb when we want him to obey.

Because he’s so smart he’s more aware of danger/fear.  His greatest fear is when our smoke alarm, that’s way too touchy, goes off, even sometimes from normal broiling. (Yes dear, I know you don’t burn our food). Krypto’s fearful response to the unsettling, piercing sound of the alarm is compounded when he follows the lead of his panicky parents as we try dispersing the smoke by flapping towels at the open back door. A fight or flight response ensues and he begins uncontrollably shaking, even when the smoke alarm makes a slight chirp to tell us it needs new batteries.

Despite our reassurances he’ll make a bee line to the door ignoring our commands. What has made Krypto so easy to train is his love of food, especially people type. When something good is cooking Krypto hangs out in the kitchen just in case something falls on the floor. Despite his strong instinct for meat, he has a stronger instinct of fear.

For example, Devon was broiling steak last night. Delicious meat smells wafted from the broiler pan. But when Krypto got a whiff of the steak he made a connection to what could possibly follow and jumped to conclusions. He dashed to the back door and feverishly began to ring the jingle type bells on the doorknob which lets us know when he needs to go outside. He hid behind the shed and Devon had quite the time coaxing him out.  Eventually with a trail of treats and many reassurances that everything was fine, he skulked into the house.

 

It was a tough week for our little fella in the food department. When Krypto’s favorite kibble made by Purina no longer became available, a beef flavored kibble not containing any corn or wheat, we had no choice than to try something new. Since Krypto loves duck jerky treats, we bought him duck and rice kibble. As instructed any time a dog’s kibble is changed to something different, it needs to be done gradually. We mixed 25% of the new kibble with 75% of the old. To our surprise, he wasn’t interested at all in his new food.

We knew we couldn’t keep putting crushed up potato chips on top of the kibble just to make him eat everything below. The vet suggested it would be alright to change him over to 100% duck and rice. It worked, again, much to our surprise.

The only way I can figure it was that Krypto’s taste buds couldn’t quite identify the subtle duck influence. 

“Gee! Something seems to be a little off about my kibble?”

When we changed his dry mix to full duck flavored kibble, he began eating it as readily as his previous beef flavored kibble. I’m wondering if Krypto’s sudden enthusiasm might have been because of his thinking,

“Boy! This duck flavored kibble tastes a lot better than that other stuff.”

I guess things can taste sometimes fishy, with the exception of fish.

 

Last week I received an email from the Kiwanis organization for which I performed a magic show this last June at their international convention in New Orleans. I also lectured while there, to their Action Club (which consists of people with disabilities).  At any rate, the Kiwanis club expressed interest in featuring my story in their magazine that has a circulation of 250,000. I was interviewed and forwarded them some photos and a section from my autobiography dealing with feeling comfortable around people with disabilities.

I’m excited to see what it may do regarding publicity for my book when it appears in next month’s issue.

 

 

However, the result of my recent visit to my orthopedic doctor for an X-ray to determine the degree of healing regarding my broken femur proved discouraging. The doc said that the bone was only about 50% healed. After breaking it in early September, it should have been further along.

He ordered blood work which revealed I was really low on vitamin D, which is essential in the absorption of calcium. I never have been low before and my 2010 physical showed normal levels. I guess I’ve got to choose my poison-skin cancer from sunshine that provides vitamin D or broken bones from not having enough vitamin D.

Until the blood work results I had been on a more standard dose of 800 IU’s a day. To make up the deficit, he prescribed over 7000 IU’s daily for a period of 12 weeks.

I hope all that vitamin D doesn’t lower my grade point average!

 

Until my next post, please, anybody; throw me a bone!

His death was unexpected and came as a result of post surgical complications. Over the course of a few years my dad had been experiencing more and more discomfort and curvature in his spine. Never a complainer, he attributed it to former issues with back fusions. Suddenly one evening last December upon waking from the couch, he was unable to stand. He was admitted by ambulance to United hospital. After many MRI’s doctors determined the leg weakness to be a result of cervical damage and recommended surgery.

Being 83 years old, He had great difficulty coming out of the anesthesia, not awakening until several hours following surgery.

From that point on, he could no longer swallow. Doctors explain they don’t see people recovering from this condition.

A solace to the entire family was when my dad nodded that he was ready to give up the fight for a better place.

My mom asked if my sister and I could each say at the funeral a few words as a eulogy for our Dad. I’d like to share what I said.

 

I want to thank all those who have given the Smith family the support and prayer we need during this difficult time. Thank you all for coming today.

All of us have one thing in common, that Lloyd Smith impacted our lives in some way.  Our family is taking comfort knowing my dad is experiencing a joy that will be everlasting.

I can imagine right now he’s just completing 18 holes of golf with an overall score of 12, which makes no sense at all, but after all we’re talking heaven! I can imagine he’s already bagged his limit of mallards with one shot.

My dad was a quiet man. His quiet ways even carried through to his death. He passed away so quietly no one even knew at first. Conversationally, he was a perfect match for my mother, Martha. He gave her a lot of verbal elbow room! He allowed her to take the spotlight.

Though, at first, I wasn’t going to blog on this sensitive subject of my father’s recent passing, I decided, now that there’s been some distancing of time, I’d like to pay a public tribute to my dad as well as sharing some memories.
 

Though there were some rocky periods in their marriage, my parents were committed to their vows, a commitment that lasted almost 58 years.

As you all know he was huge into exercise. I remember when Dave and I were little; we’d each lie on his back as he did his pushups. We were his little dumbbells.

Yes, he had few words and was a serious man but couldn’t resist the opportunity to make us laugh. When I was 13 years old, my dad had a pool built for the family. He hired a coach to teach me how to swim in the hopes he could write the pool off as a medical expense. I had no interest in learning how to swim. After about 3 weeks I said to my coach, “I won’t be needing you any longer.”

When my dad heard I had fired the coach, he said to me, “Okay Jeff. But if the auditor shows up I’m going to say to him, ‘Of course Jeff can swim!’ Then I’m going to pick you up and throw you in the pool and say, ‘Swim dog gone you swim!”

As many of you know, I had struggled for years with stuttering, having many years of speech therapy. One day when I was at a session, at the dinner table that night my dad asked my mom, “Where’s Jeff?”

She responded, “He’s at stuttering class.”

My dad quipped, “Jeff doesn’t need stuttering classes. He stutters just fine!”

Thank you dad for letting me know I was loved every day of my life.

Till we see you again, love from Mom and we kids.

May the winds be always in your favor and the mallards plentiful. I love you Dad.