more on masks

 The liberals are often accused by conservatives of well, telling other people what to do for their own good, but their real goal is not the good of other people but of controlling people.  I disagree with this of course, but I guess that is what you mean by them being more interested in their own agenda than beating down the pandemic.  But what agenda did you think that the conservatives were forwarding rather than beating down the pandemic?

The reason that the CDC was against everybody masking up right away was that they were afraid that there would not be enough for the healthcare people.  When they realized there would be enough they asked people to mask up.  They never thought or said that masks were ineffective.

One thing that was confusing was how effective masks were.  Those high class masks that you saw on medical people but not generally among the public were pretty good for protecting you.  The cheapo masks protected you a little, but mostly they protected people from you if you had the virus.  You were safer being bare-faced in a room of masked people than if you were wearing a mask in a room of bare-faced people.  This was not stressed much, perhaps because people were thought to be more interested in protecting themselves than protecting other people.

Nobody ever claimed that masks would end the pandemic.  They were just to slow the spread until a virus could be found.  The virus is what eventually knocked it down to flu size.

So were you mad at Gretch because of what she was doing or how she was doing it?  

Shut downs are a whole nother matter I would like to get into later.

Mainly because Trump has stolen the spotlight again.  I'm so glad.

until the Republicans can get rid of Donald Trump

Of course it's obvious the republicans will never ditch him, even now almost all of them are screaming outrage about indictment.  You will have to depend on the dems to do it for you.

This idea that Trump is an agent for the dems is like the idea that the Jan 6ers were really antifa guys.  

Gretchen the Gutsy

 "I am wondering at the time when the pandemic was raging, did you think it was not such a big deal, or did you think masks had little effect, and that's what pissed you off at Gutsy Gretch?"

I believed that the pandemic was real, but I also believed that politicians of both ilks were more interested in exploiting it to advance their agendas than they were in suppressing the virus.  I did indeed believe that the masks had little effect, largely because of the way the authorities reversed their position on the issue.  Also, I seem to remember that the pandemic numbers got worse instead of better after the mask mandate was issued.  

I was pissed off at Gretchen before the masks were mandated.  Her state of emergency order was limited by law to 28 days unless extended by the legislature.  She asked them for a seven-week extension, but they gave her only two. When that expired, she didn't even ask for more, she just unilaterally decreed an unlimited extension of her own, based on a different law that was ultimately overturned by the courts.  Then she tried to do it under the authority of the health department.  Most businesses complied, but a few filed lawsuits which they eventually won.  I suppose that party politics had something to do with all this, but another reason the legislature declined to give her more of an extension was that she had shut down some things that had a dubious impact on the virus, like golf courses, motorboats, and outdoor construction jobs, and refused to negotiate any of them.  

Michigan has indeed gone blue for a while and will probably stay that way until the Republicans can get rid of Donald Trump.  I am still not convinced that he isn't an agent for the other side, his mission being to sabotage the Republican Party and the conservative cause in general.  

masking then, masking now

 As much contact as you have with the outside world, it probably did not make much difference as far as the course of the pandemic whether you wore a mask or not.  And since you only had to do it when you went down to the store it was not much of a hassle for you to put it on.

Of course you knew that the Gutsy Gretch and the gerrymandered republican legislature were at war so if they were able to vote on the matter they would certainly have voted against masks.  Anyway Michigan now has a democratic legislature so if another pandemic pops up right away you know how they will vote.

I am wondering at the time when the pandemic was raging, did you think it was not such a big deal, or did you think masks had little effect, and that's what pissed you off at Gutsy Gretch?

I am wondering because I am in a reversed situation right now.  I think that the pandemic is nothing more than like the flu right now.  It has mutated over the course of the pandemic to where it is now highly contagious but not all that dangerous.

My Saturday morning watercolor course cancelled when the pandemic hit and only came back maybe a year ago.  At that time we still had to wear masks to enter the building because the pandemic was still strong, and that was ok with me.  But as the pandemic lessened the rules did too, and we didn't have to enter masked and the signs were put away and anymore nobody wears a mask.

Except for in my watercolor class.  The teacher is a rabid germaphobe and she still insists on masks.  I am kind of used to them from when the pandemic was boss so it is not such a big deal, but the thought that I have to wear one because she says I have too, well of course that pisses me off.  Maybe that's like you and Gutsy Gretch.

I suppose I could simply refuse, tell her to make me, and I don't know, I guess she could call security, but I know that they would not want to be involved and who knows what they would do.  But it would be a huge rupture in this class that I have been taking for thirty years, and while not so crazy about Teach I like the other students who I have known for years and the interaction, exchanging ideas with my fellow watercolorists, is valuable to me.  So I am putting up with it, expecting it to fade away and not wanting to lose the class.

To Mask or Not to Mask

 I don't think I was a rabid anti-masker like some people were.  I just didn't like wearing one.  I got this claustrophobic feeling like I was being smothered or something.  I don't think it was all in my head either.  I always have been kind of short winded, probably a residual effect of the bout with rheumatic fever that I had as a young child.  Like a lot of things, it has gotten worse in my old age.  I might have been able to get a medical exemption to the mask mandate, but I figured a doctor would want me to quit smoking first, and I wasn't prepared to do that.  It wasn't that bad anyway, I only had to wear a mask when I went into a store or other public building and, truth be known, I wore it down around my chin half the time.  

Mostly I didn't like Queen Gretchen telling me what to do without a vote of the legislature, and all the court decisions I have read about tended to validate my position.  I still believe that she and her ilk were more interested in aggrandizing power than they were in stopping the covid.  It's like that colored kid in Chicago told his mayor when she ordered him and his friends off the street:  "Y'alls over doing this.  Y'all needs to find a cure.  Talk about go home, you go home!"

my Chicago card

 Nice to see Old Dog pop up after a month.  Not so nice to have my Chicago card questioned.  I don't know where he went in his research, but I was born in Chicago, March 22, 1945.  Shortly after my birth the family moved from an apartment on the west side to Chattanooga Tennessee, where we lived until we returned here to the southwest side bungalow when I was four years old.

My dad was a chemist.  He got a two year degree which I think was kind of hot stuff for the son of a chicken farmer in the early thirties.  His career was in paint.  From what he told me, and I should have asked him way more, some company would require a special kind of paint, paint that could stand heat maybe, and cover rust, and whatever, and probably within a certain price range and they would order it from Trask paint company who would send the message down to the lab where my dad would work on perfecting just the right paint.

My information on this is slight but I think he got into some kind of disagreement with Trask and he got a better offer down in Chattanooga Tennessee, and he moved his wife and two kids down there.  Three years later things smoothed over and he got a better still offer back at the old company and he moved his wife and now three kids back to Chicago to live in the bungalow on Homan Avenue for the rest of his life.

I have a few misty memories of Chattanooga, finding a turtle under the house, something about a big toy firetruck, riding the train back to Chicago and seeing mountains in the train window, worries that my toys were not packed for the move.  I'll ask my older sister more when we have our weekly chat next Sunday night.

Okay I was going over the pandemic to get it all straight in my mind, both my reactions at the time and the straight facts.  One thing I was about to get to before I noticed that I was here all alone, was that mask thing.  I remember that Beagles and I got into quite a tussle over that, and now I wonder sometimes was it all worth it, to get the country all that upset over the matter.  

At the time I got quite incensed over the matter.  Well people were dying, remember those parking lots full of mobile morgues?  And these people not wearing masks were helping to spread it and increasing the threat to my mortality and worse yet prolonging the time we would all have to stay masked and locked down.  I was incensed, but now that it's all over well I just don't know.

I thought that this would be an issue that we would like to chew the fat over, but that doesn't seem to be the case.

The Cryan' Shames

I'm still here.

Me too, despite my long absence.  I enjoy lurking and seldom feel compelled to comment on anything, too much yapping as it is.  I've been catching up my reading, looking at all the early Institute postings since day one, and also the many other blogs that Uncle Ken is a part of.  Quite revealing, and maybe a little too much information at times.  From what I gather, Uncle Ken was originally from the St. Louis area and didn't move to Chicago until the age of four.  This explains a lot, and why he may have never been issued his "Chicago Card."  If so, he would have recognized the reference to Richard J. in the context of the word "insinuendo."

-----

This whole coffee business has become quite the learning process and even as I enjoy it more I'm drinking less.  Go figure.  I have more than a dozen different kinds of coffee, both whole bean and pre-ground, and I'm beginning to appreciate the subtle differences.  There is a certain ritual aspect, reminds me a bit of a Japanese tea ceremony, and enjoying the final cup is a real pleasure, twenty minutes of peaceful contemplation.  No TV, no computer, no radio or music, no reading, just sitting quietly and letting my thoughts wander.  Very therapeutic, in my opinion, and it leaves me rested and relaxed.  Once I started purging outside bullshit from my daily routine (and reality) life has been greatly improved and I can focus on my own thoughts and what I should be doing as The Grim Reaper starts going through his Rolodex.

And it's been great, getting new toys and making the time to enjoy them.  I don't know exactly why I bought a sextant recently, but I did, figuring, why not?  Might come in handy after the Zombie Apocalypse and the GPS systems are down.  And now that I've gotten a little more room due to my efforts at going through old crap I found a nice space for a new 3D printer, so I got one of those, too.  Not easy humping a 30+ pound box on a couple of buses but you do what you gotta do, y'know?  The end result is that I'm having a lot more fun than I deserve.  Got some laser diode modules from Amazon too, for another series of goofball projects I have in mind and are showing promise.  When you have an itch to study fluid dynamics you gotta scratch it, I think.

-----

I don't know where Uncle Ken is going with his latest Covid opus, but going west on Ashland is a good trick.

corona 4

 The live-frees seemed to be mostly in Trump's camp.  He was always showing up without a mask (Remember when he got covid and seemed to be near death at one point?).  But I don't think he was responsible for the no mask thing.  I think it was something deeper in the divide of America.  It was like we get-alongs always acted like we were so smart and we were always telling the live-frees what to do, and they were just fucking sick of it.  And I imagine much as I felt smug in my mildly annoying mask walking among the good civilized folk of downtown who were mostly on the train of making it a better world (fewer deaths), the live-frees of the burbs, or worse yet downstate, or worse even than that of the deep south, reveled in showing how they were mad as hell and weren't going to take it anymore.  

Were masks effective?  Logic would say they were, they blocked droplets of water that could easily be carrying the virus.  Statistics seemed to show that red staters died in a higher percentage than blue staters.  I imagine the statistics are just a click away, but I am purposely not looking up anything until I finish this series.  I am kind of waiting for the comprehensive history book of the pandemic.

Anyway there is a question of how effective were the masks.  If you didn't wear a mask in my neighborhood you were probably better off than if you wore a mask in a good ol boy hood.  There was also the thing where the purpose of the mask was more to keep you, the wearer, from spreading the virus than it was to protect yourself.  Not sure how true this was because it was not mentioned all that often.

Rural was better than urban, and warm was better than cold, again waiting for more complete stats to think this.

corona 3

 And then the masks.  I didn't want to wear one.  I didn't like the way it felt or the way it looked, or the way it looked on my friends and neighbors.

At first the word was not to wear masks.  They still didn't know how it was being spread and they weren't sure if they had enough for all the medical people who would be needing them, but then they realized that it was mostly spread by breathing and sneezing and they had plenty and on they went.

Like a good liberal I wanted to do my part for the common good and I was pleased to see that half the people were wearing them around downtown and as the days went on maybe nine tenths (I kept count), and I felt pretty good about this.  But then I heard that it was less in the burbs and downstate forget it.  What was the matter with these people, didn't they want to live?  Didn't they want their friends and neighbors to live?  How hard was it to wear a mask?

Something was going on.  Early on when we first began to mask I could see that this was going to be a problem.  Some people in this country don't see why we can't all get along and some other folks want to live free or die.  But we all more or less got along because by just looking at people on the street you couldn't tell the get-alongs from the live-frees.  But now masks would be a tell. To me wearing the mask was annoying, but that was offset by feeling that I was doing the right thing.  But for a person of another ilk not only was it an annoyance but it was like pinning a big blue Obama button onto their chests.

the corona 2

 Suddenly downtown was empty.  It was no longer fun to walk around in.  I wondered what would become of the pigeons.  They live off the kindness of strangers and now that the strangers were gone. What would become of them?  

They kept the busses running, so that essential people could get to work and run things for those of us who weren't, and maybe to keep up our spirits, see everything is going on as usual, nothing to worry about here.  I rode the trains from downtown to the end of their lines and then back downtown.  Often I was the only one in the car, the streets we passed were empty.  After awhile the cars got used to empty sidewalks and sped through the streets so that it was a bit dangerous walking around.

Nobody knew how The Corona was spread, it was suggested that along with a mask you should wear gloves, some suggested sun glasses to keep it out of your eyes.  The Jewel was open as was Walgreens, their employees deemed essential to provision those of us with nothing to do but eat and watch Netflix.  

If the place was too full you had to wait outside until somebody left.  The floor was a maze of arrows pointing this way and that, too much too handle sometimes because you were in a hurry to get in and out before the virus, likely hanging in the air or sitting on the shelves could get inside you.  If I picked up an item and then decided I didn't want to buy it, I would often buy it anyway because maybe I was infected and I didn't want to infect my fellow citizens.  Lines in front of the cash register were long because people were standing six feet apart on little circles.

But at least we knew it would all be over soon.  As my friend wrote me in that letter that started all this:

We have until the end of the month when the city comes alive again. So things are not that bad.                           

Checking In

I'm still here.  Some nights I don't even go online, but when I do, I always check to see if any of my esteemed colleagues have posted anything lately.  I have been preoccupied with my recent infirmity, and there hasn't much to say about that.  My next appointment with Nurse Felicia is March 21, and she has set me up with a sleep clinic on April 4.  Meanwhile, the soreness in my right arm and knee seems to be slowly getting better by itself.  I'm not falling asleep at the breakfast table as often, and I have been driving around Cheboygan with no ill effects.  I had been on the road for 15 miles when I fell asleep at the wheel, so I am limiting my trips to ten miles until I have a better handle on this thing.  Like I said, Felicia thinks that I have sleep apnea, but I think that narcolepsy is more consistent with my symptoms.  

Narcolepsy - Wikipedia

The ides of March

 I was going through my archives a couple days ago and I came across an email from a buddy about three years ago and it opened with.

Just wanted to say I really enjoyed the first conversation with a human being in twelve days.  Imagine, not so long ago I could have one with anyone pretty much whenever i wanted to.

Are they still letting you into Union Station?

What the hell was this?  Some dystopian novel?  But wait the date is March 25th, 2020.  The pandemic.  Already it is beginning to seem quaint.

I keep kind of a diary, and the entry for Friday, March 13, 2023 reads, Full house at the Ten Cat.  I remember that night leaving the Ten Cat full of beer and good fellowship, north to Ashland, west on Ashland to the Brown Line.  It was on my mind that something was going on, some kind of bird flu type thing that I thought they were blowing up way too big in my estimation. Those things came and went, never a big deal.  I think that I had heard that Ohio had ordered some sort of shut down, pretty drastic for a solid midwestern state if you asked me.  Oh look at the lights flashing by in the train window.

The word came down over the weekend.  Complete shutdown for the city and the state starting Tuesday.  Well that still left Monday, time yet for a few friendly drinks.  I texted a friend and set up a meeting at the Old Town Ale house Monday afternoon. 

Monday morning I had a routine physical scheduled with my doc.  I was fine as usual but just before I left I kinda asked what about this here Corona (I think we were calling it The Corona (kind of like My Sharonna at the time).  And she scared me straight, and I cancelled my meeting at the bar, and did not have another drink with another human being for like three months.

BREAKING NEWS...BREAKING NEWS...BREAKING NEWS...

Not quite the equinox but today is the first sighting of the sun rising in the far south corner of my view of the lake.

I'll try to get back to my story tomorrow, but I am not sure if anybody else is reading this anymore.

national pi day

Seems like it was ages since it was Kasimir Pulaski Day, but apparently it was only eight days.  Eight days of March coming in like a lion, not the raging beast of stage and screen, more like the guy you see at the zoo, just kind of grumpy even with those that perfectly good hunk of cow that he has barely touched because he is not in the mood, just like those two comely lionesses lolling on the rocks by the cave who he is not in the mood for either which is just as well because neither are they.

It has not been all that bad, storms seem to be raging to the east, to the west, to the north and the house, but we here seem to be missing most of the mayhem, just that boring day after day of temps just above freezing and frequent rain and raw wind.

Like the poet awaiting a rebirth of wonder, we await oh just a breath of spring, just like 60 degrees for a few hours, just enough to shed that jacket for a bit and gambol in the meadow and tiptoe through the tulips for just a bit.

And not much to make of pi day, already passed just after three and a quarter this morning, though I think it lasts until that same time this afternoon.  We have a gentleman baker among us and I believe Beagles is no stranger to the kitchen.  Maybe one or both of them could bake a pie, which would fill the kitchen with pleasant smells and smells evoke memories and memories lead to stories which the blog needs and which I plainly have none of today. 

Casimir Pulaski day

 Well indeed, virtue is it's own reward, the chief manifestation is that smug feeling you get.  Oh if only everyone were as honest and concerned as I am, well it would be much better world.  (Sigh).

A lesser, but still substantial, reward is being able to look down your noses at others who would likely not have been so Honest Abe-like, would not have delayed getting on with their life by turning around a half a block from the store, and it was raining, well misting, but still.  And maybe they would be a little happy to get that unexpected little bonus of twenty bucks to buy some little bauble for themselves.  Tsk, tsk.  

Of course, I don't know that, I am possibly judging my fellow man too harshly, but maybe I can afford myself a little dishonesty after walking that block and a half back back and then retracing my path, which would make it three blocks total, and all through that heavy mist.

And time zones on the moon sounds kind of crazy because we get our day and its hours from the rotation of the Earth, but the moon does not rotate at all, keeping that one side always facing the Earth, so that it is always high noon in the center of the huge crater of Copernicus.

Just heard from the radio that today is Casimir Pulaski day.  One of the great boons of working for the state of Illinois was getting Casimir Pulaski day off, but I think they have changed that now  City workers still get the day off, but not state workers.  Of course none of us retirees get holidays anymore.  We will have to think of another way to celebrate this great man.

Virtue is Its Own Reward

You did the right thing, Uncle Ken, that's all that matters.  It would have been nice to have your virtuous act publicly acknowledged, but that's not the main reason we do the right thing.  We do the right thing because it is the right thing.  

I read in the paper the other day that someone has proposed that we establish one or more time zones on the moon.  Apparently, when people go to the moon now, they keep their watches set to the time back home.  Now that several different countries are making plans to go to the moon, it would be more convenient for everybody who is there at the same time to be on moon time.  That got me to thinking.  If I call Uncle Ken in Chicago shortly after midnight tonight, it will not only be an hour ago to him, but it will also be yesterday.  Nevertheless, it will still be "now" for both of us.  I seem to remember that it takes a radio signal nine minutes to travel to Mars.  I suppose there is a similar time lag between Earth and the Moon, albeit a shorter one.  I think this goes beyond a simple time differential, it's also a "now" differential.  It's now on the Earth at the moment the signal is transmitted, and it's now on the Moon when the signal is received.  The time that the signal spends traveling through space is not now for either location, but it's now for the signal.  I wonder if the people who are planning to establish moon time have thought of this.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

Honest Ken

 The Jewel has a problem with turnips.  Used to be no matter how many of those rascals I piled on the weight scale the whole lot of them was only 79 cents.  Don't know why, didn't ask.  Those folks were busy and probably would not want to be disturbed by a rather trivial matter.  How many people buy turnips anyway?

Not many.  They are in a little bin far from the madness of the broccolis and the Brussels sprouts, the stars of the vegetable aisle.  The bin is maybe a foot wide and often the turnips have to share it with the parsnips.  Often when I use a human checkout they ask me, "What are those things?"  

Okay, I sorta knew when I was putting down 79 cents for a big bagful I was getting away with something, but I was playing by the rules.  I was paying what I was asked.

Maybe some wisenheimer ratted or maybe Jewel found out for itself, but they fixed it.  Not really.  I don't plump them down on the scale and push the lookup button, type in TU and then hit the Turnip roots button and get a price.  What I get is a notice to get help.  

Doncha hate that?  You were expecting to drop in, fill your cart, zip it past the laser and get out and on with your life in like one smooth movement, not having to bother anybody.

You know some people (particularly us golden agers) are just not sharp enough to handle the automated check out, and sometimes I click my tongue in pity, maybe even sneer sometimes because they are holding up the line.  Dumbasses.

And now, waiting for the wise queen of the automated checkout like a baby for his mama, I know some are passing by thinking what a dumbass.  She takes her time, of course, getting to me, and then she whips out some paper, types in the number she looks up, and bam I am dinged for oh, maybe three bucks.  Fair enough, those are the rules.

So I am out of the store and maybe a block and a half down, getting on with my life and it suddenly occurs to me, what with all the goings on of getting my turnips rung up: did I pay?  I go through my memory and I come up with nada.  Maybe for a few seconds I entertain ways that I could just shine it on, but again nada.  Instead of getting on with my life I am going back to the store.

And it's not just I have to give them some dough.  There is a trip to the experts in that little office thing, a little discussion, and then I have to drag all my stuff back over the laser again, and wait while the checkout cheese does the turnip thing again before I can get back to getting on with my life.

And you know, I expected to get a little gratitude from the Jewel.  Had I not gotten away free groceries, but then went all the way back to make it right?  Couldn't they have said they appreciated my sacrifice, because many other folks, and here we could both pause to look over the maddening crowd with mild disapproval, would not have bothered.  It's people like myself that gives the staff a rosier view of human nature and gets them through the long hours of the day.

Would that have been so hard.  But then I am thinking of Abraham Lincoln.  Dollars to donuts I bet that customer slipped the penny into her purse without a word.  Honest Abe and me, two souls getting on with their lives. 

The Power of Suggestion

 I have heard of sleep apnea, but I didn't know a lot about it, so I just now looked it up.  From what I have read so far, it looks like I might indeed have sleep apnea.  I didn't read the whole article because I kept falling asleep while reading it.  I'll try again, maybe tomorrow.  

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleep_apnea

I called Nurse Felicia's office today because she said she was going schedule an appointment for me with some kind of sleep specialist and I haven't heard any more about it.  I was told not to worry about it, these things take time.   

daring to eat a peach

I grow old ... I grow old ...

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind?   Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

 From The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock.  Back in the day if you were getting a liberal education at the University of Illinois this poem was part of English 123 which was part of your literature and arts requirement where you would meet the dour and somewhat bitter J Alfred and his creator, the unpleasant Mr Eliot.

But it was cool man, it opened with an image of a patient etherized upon a table which was pretty far out.  This guy is wandering around in 1910 London and wishing that in his youth he had bit deeper into the apple of life when he was young, or even now, if he could gather the gumption, which he can't.  

See there is this stream of thought that if we were just left to our natural courses, why we would bite into the apple, let its juice dribble down our throats, and pound our chests and go out after Eve or whoever.  But Society, Modern Society, with all its rules and strictures has taken us away from nature and that's why we, we Old England middle class twits, walk around London muttering about our unfulfilled desires.

Something like that is what we were taught and so our generation opted to let it all hang out, and you see where that got us.

I believe that wearing your trousers rolled meant that they had cuffs which I am also guessing was the sort of thing old guys did in T S Eliot's time.

I have memories of a movie trailer I saw maybe fifty years ago where I am pretty sure it was Jack Lemmon who is talking to somebody and he is saying something like when we are young we are handed a big cup and we can choose to drink it dry or we can let it just spill onto the ground, and then he adds, looking aside "And do you think time cares?"  which is one of those dramatic lines that if you think about them doesn't make any sense.

I never saw that movie.  I think it was Save the Tiger, which I am streaming through now but have not come to that part.

But anyway that cup thing has remained in my mind.  I should have drunk it down, gotten married, had kids, and they would have had kids and they would be sort of around, so I would be in contact with youngsters at my advanced age.  But maybe not.  Who knows?

Had to look up Dunning Kruger, and I think I am exempt from it because of my strong opinion that everything is more complicated than it appears to be, so I seldom attempt anything that seems like it might be difficult.  Which certainly would include getting in the ring where I could get hit in the head.

Sorry to hear about trouble in Mangoville.  And while I am giving a minute of silence

in honor of that pore little fellow who perhaps did not get as full a cup as his neighbors, I am wondering how they are doing.

I am puzzled by this Richard J who is casting aspersions on your coffee habit.

And though I am a not a doctor I too doubt this sleep apnea mania of late.  It just seems like something that is paid for by insurance so that docs are always trying to get you to do it, just because I guess.  Wouldn't the hypothetical wife know if you had it?