the Lack of Green Applause

I have to confess I’m a little afraid to write this post. I’m really afraid I’m going to get some scolding comments, but if it helps just one musician out there (and not necessarily me) I’ll take whatever comes my way as a result of this. At the Malt Shop, I have good and bad nights in terms of tips. The Malt Shop “pays” its musicians with a free meal, and rarely have I had a bad night in that department. But tips are something else altogether.

Phil and I have speculated about what makes a good tip night. He proposes the theory that good tip nights are likely to happen when fewer people visit the restaurant. People feel more responsible to tip when fewer are there. If it isn’t a great night on an empty dining room night, I understand. People can’t give a lot, and if there aren’t many people, it’s usually bad for me and for the servers. I’ve seen validity of both arguments. I’ve also seen nights with a packed house where tips have been really good, because even if everyone gives a buck, I come out with an average night between $30 and $40. A great night is above $50, and when they happen, they are wonderful. Usually, I can tell when I’ll have an average or great night, The house is packed, and many people stop to compliment me on the way out. I also over -hear conversations about how good the music is at tables.

I must say a quick word about applause. Many people wonder why I play and don’t pause very long between sets. I try to discourage applause, although when it breaks out, I try to be gracious about it. Servers have asked me why I don’t want applause, and the answer is simple. If people applaud, they feel they have fulfilled their responsibility and don’t tip. The compliments on the way out often are accompanied by their putting something in the tip jar. I don’t always hear it, but the compliment gives me the excuse to thank them. There is a flip side to not pausing too long. Some people don’t know that I can talk to them while playing, and Phil has wondered whether pausing to be available for people to talk to me would be a good idea. I do offer my business cards with contact information, so people can get ahold of me later. One lady apparently didn’t want to interrupt me last night, took my card, and said she’d be calling to hire me for a fundraiser. Sounds great!

The servers who know me know that if possible, I will tip them. Apparently, I am the only musician currently who does this. The others have the understanding that with a free meal, they don’t have to tip. Servers do a lot of kind things for me during the whole night. They keep my water filled, help me put out the CD’s to look nice, and set up my sign and tip bowl with display lite (which turns different colors) under it. They understand when I have a bad night, and I have to give them less. This is mainly because when I have good nights, I try to give more to compensate for the bad ones. The meals are $15, and I give 20%. So on an average night, it’s $3. On a great night it may be $4 or $5, because there are plenty of nights when I have to give $2 or $1. There are nights when they won’t take anything at all, because they know what a rotten night it was. Servers are aware that I have brought business to them, because we’ve heard people say they specifically come in on Sunday nights to hear me.

Last night was looking like it would be average, so imagine my shock immediately after I was done when there was only $8 in the bowl. Playing for three hours with very few pauses other than to drink water is exhausting, but if I make $30, that’s $10 an hour — not an uncommon wage and actually quite good in this economy. I was making less than $3 an hour last night.

My Paratransit rides each way are $3, and please don’t write to me about why I shouldn’t use Paratransit! I have my reasons. That’s the first set of scoldings of which I’m afraid. I can also hear people saying that I should just be grateful for whatever I get, because I agreed to the terms. There will be good nights and bad nights, and I should just suck it up and not waste people’s time writing about this. Most of the time, I don’t write about this in great detail on a bad night, so I have followed this advice for the most part. But I hope my statements above provide some justification about why I am writing about this topic today. Now for the third set of scoldings. If you choose to scold me on this, you can’t possibly scold me anymore than I have scolded myself. I was caught in a very vulnerable moment last night. Tears were running down my face, and a very nice lady came up and said that although she plays classical music, she’d love to be able to do what I do. She told me I was talented. I thanked her and apologized for the tears running down my face. I know I should have stopped right there, but I didn’t . I told her about making $8, and I know I should have kept my mouth shut. Yes, she gave more and a few other tips trickled in as well. I had an average night after all, and because of my initial $8, my waitress wouldn’t take the tip I offered.

Last night was a great night for compliments, but I’ve had nights on which I didn’t think I moved people at all and rare nights where I heard negative things about my selections. My sign says I take requests, but rather than doing that, they had to grumble. It’s hard to work your buns off for hours and not see any result whatsoever. Music can be a psychologically difficult profession.

I’ve heard two excuses for people not tipping. The first is they can’t afford it or weren’t prepared to hear the music and tip accordingly. Lack of preparation, I can understand, although the restaurant has been willing to charge a little extra to the credit cards and give them change back. But if one is going out to eat, one should be able to afford a buck or two for unexpected service. Certainly I treasure when I get the higher bills than ones, but it isn’t expected. The second excuse of tipping is more tricky. There are people who think I am paid by the restaurant and thus don’t tip. I’ve had people tell me about musicians who have crass signs saying something like “Not paid by restaurant. I do this for tips”. I’ve tried to avoid doing that, but I am getting to the point where I may have to have a sign which says I am not a restaurant employee and appreciate tips.

So why am I whining, griping, and complaining to you all? I hope you’ll think of me and look for a tip jar the next time you hear a musician — especially in a restaurant. Certainly if the musician is polluting the air with noise, you don’t owe them a thing. If they are making your experience a little more pleasant, throw in a buck or two. If they are really outstanding and you can afford to do so, consider a five or more. You’ll be helping them, because you’ll be covering for the people who enjoy the music but won’t tip.

a pretty good few days

First a quick update on Zane. He’s done with the anti-nausea pills, and there have been no more incidents. We’ll finish the pupcid in his food, and the vet says if the regurgitating doesn’t start again (which I don’t think it will) we can go on with life off of the medication.

Phil has been back at work this week and went to the hand specialist on Tuesday. There is no infection, and it just needs time to heal. Unfortunately, he still keeps bumping it, and despite the band aids, it still throbs — especially when he’s lying down for some weird reason.

The last few days have included a couple of cool events. First, Phil’s new supervisor (the job for which he applied) was announced. You wouldn’t think that would be good news, but Phil told me almost from the start if he didn’t get the position, there was a particular person in his office with whom he felt he could work very well as a supervisee. That person got the job. I’ve actually heard Phil talk very respectfully about Scott from almost the time Scott started. Scott has more managerial experience, and he told Phil the interview was very intensive on managerial skills. Meanwhile, Phil had his final performance review with his retiring supervisor Peggy, and they seemed to agree on almost everything included in the pretty glowing review. Her goodbye gathering is this coming week, and Phil has had some involvement with part of its planning.

Phil got his new hearing aids this past week. The first day one of them stopped working, which really bummed him out. It turns out there was some wax build-up on it. When that happened in the other ear a few days later, he did his best to get the wax off, and it worked again. Before hearing aids, I had to yell across the house if he was in another room. Our house is not that big, but I thought this was par for the course. I don’t have to yell across rooms and actually find I can speak at a lower volume to him when we are in the same room than I have in a while. He has been telling me when he hears subtle noises the dogs make which were absent before his hearing aids. There were many times before hearing aids that I’d ask if he heard something, and he said no. I don’t think either of us realized how much he was missing. He has a way of plugging the hearing aids into his iPhone and a little chord to use with his hearing aids at ATM machines with speech.

Then for the second weekend in a row, Phil went to dialysis in the early morning, and we had an event in the afternoon. He loves getting dialysis out of the way in the mornings, and we both hope for more of these opportunities. It’s unusual for us to have Saturday events, because of dialysis. Phil’s most frequent tandem bike pilot in the past year named Nickolai is going for military training in Texas for the summer and early fall. Originally, we were supposed to have Nickolai and another friend of his over to our place for a cookout Friday the 11, but that was one of the days Phil wasn’t feeling well. A couple weeks ago, Nickolai extended an invitation for a going-away party his parents were having for him today. Originally, it was slated to be at a park, and I wasn’t very sure about attending. I’m not an outdoors person as most people probably know. The grilled food would have been good, but morning rain might have put a crimp in the setup. Then it was moved to his parents’ home, and an indoor event made me a lot less leery. Things started a little late, and in typical Metro Mobility fashion when things are running late, we arrived early. They had a delicious mid-day meal of sandwiches, chips and salsa, salads, fruit and yummy desserts.

Nickolai’s mom Deb is a classical piano teacher, and his dad Jim plays harmonica and violin. Jim plays classically with sheet music but also does other styles like blue grass, country, and good old rock and roll both with lead sheets and by ear. You probably know where this is going. Jim and I had a jam session I wish had been able to go on much longer. Deb’s piano was tuned so well, and we discovered we use the same piano tuner. Oh the music! We did some Stevie Wonder and some Elton John. He improvises very well and can carry the melody easily when he knows the song. I wish we’d had more time, but I had to play for church. The cantor felt she needed a lot of practice time with me, so we had to leave right at four. Jim had to play for a wedding and was leaving about the same time. I friended Jim on Facebook, and I’m hoping perhaps we can get together for fun and something might develop professionally. I met a singer at the Malt Shop last weekend who took my business card, because he needs accompanists who play the same pop stuff I do. . It’s fun to make these connections and frankly just to interact in person more than I have most of the winter.

Lots of hope

I’m relieved to tell you that even though there were no red flags in the blood work, a different vet in the same practice called to give me the results. Unlike the one I talked to yesterday, she seems to think that Zane might have Esophagitis which is an irritation of the esophagus treated with a form of Pepcid (lovingly called Pupcid) and the anti-nausea medication called something like Serenin. I thought I may have heard Zane bring up food, but I can’t find any piles. He worked all afternoon with no incident. It was so stinking hot that after picking up the medications from the vet, we babied ourselves with a cab ride home. So he has several days of the anti-nausea medication and even more Pupcid. Then we wait and see. The vet today seems to think that with how quickly this started, it’s not necessarily this mega Esophagus thing. Only time will tell, but I am going to assume that Zane and I will be together for a while. If he starts regurgitating again after this treatment, then we go for the Barium test which is the one tracking food with dye in it. That test is the one which will tell us more definitively about whether he has Mega Esophagus. I am hopeful we will not have to go down that path.

In Suspense About Whether Zane Will Continue Working With Me

Of the things I expected to learn today, I can’t say that learning the difference between vomiting and regurgitating was one of them. But there is a difference. Zane has been bringing up his food the last few weeks and days with more and more frequency. It happened twice at the Malt Shop last night, several times this morning, and in the vet lobby this afternoon. We were startled to discover he’d lost 3.5 pounds since he was at the vet two and a half weeks ago for his physical. The vet explained that distinct, loud sounds of vomiting brings up substances from the stomach. Regurgitating is when the dog very quietly lets loose the food which has been stopped in his Esophagus. Zane was right next to me at the Malt Shop, and I didn’t hear him do anything. He’s also been very good at hiding it here at home. Mega-Esophagus is a condition in which the muscles of the esophagus can’t perform the job of squeezing the food into the stomach. It is a neuro-muscular condition tied to auto immune disease.

The vet gave Zane an anti-nausea shot, and the vet says if it is regurgitation, it will happen anyway. Blood work has also been sent to screen for infections or thyroid problems. If this problem is related to them, it is treatable. If not, Zane may have to retire soon. He can have a quality life as a pet, as long as his people are willing to liquefy his food and feed him on a higher surface. I can’t worry about whether Zane is going to bring up food in public, and that is why if it is this regurgitation, he will need to retire. It’s not often that I pray for an infection or a thyroid issue, but either would be a best scenario. He has a little less energy than normal, but his tail still wags. He eats and drinks with gusto, but he just can’t seem to keep it down. His work to and from the buses was pretty good all things considered. We’ll learn more about the blood work tomorrow, and if everything is normal there’s one more test which may be performed to ensure that’s what it is. He eats a bit of food with some dye in it. Then they x-ray the esophagus and stomach after a couple of minutes to track where the food is. If it’s still in the esophagus, we have our answer. If the blood work is normal though this may be a moot point. Stay tune for tomorrow’s episode of when Rebecca’s Stomach Turns. The tear ducts have been doing over-time, and I have a couple people who have said they want to be considered when Zane retires. They probably aren’t counting on a dog who may throw up more if not fed in a precise way.

After Wedding reflections

Normally at weddings, I have some roll other than a guest, and most of the time, it’s as a musician. When Kelly and Earle’s wedding was being planned, I was in the throes of multiple hospitalizations for Phil, and I had no idea what life would be like by the time May 11 rolled around. Certainly a little part of me wanted to contribute to their special day, but the larger part of me was pretty happy to just be a guest with no worries about performing.

May 11 is a special day for Phil and me, too, because 18 years ago yesterday, we met in person for the first time at the MPLS airport. He flew in to meet me and spend the weekend instead of attending his graduation. I chose to forgo my June graduation ceremony the next year for our Pre-Cana as wedding classes are known in the Catholic church.

Our attendance at yesterday’s ceremony started out rough and got smoother. Our Metro Mobility ride was so late that we came in the church doors right as the wedding party was ready to walk in the sanctuary. Then the people seating us didn’t realize Phil and I were spouses and at first put us in separate pews. They realized their mistake and brought me to him, and I felt so conspicuous! I hoped I wasn’t ruining Kelly’s big moment because of their mistake. I wanted to be invisible as I sat down in the seat next to Phil to read the braille program. People must have been standing before we entered the sanctuary or soon after. I realized Earle sang a song to Kelly as she came down the aisle only after reading it in the program, and of course everyone else was standing. Boy, did I feel like a dope!
I checked into 4-Square to get rid of some of the fidgetiness which came from my embarrassment and was tuned in for the most important parts of the ceremony. Because we use speech on our iPhones, along with the pretty inconspicuous ear buds (the ones I lost last weekend), we have a nice privacy curtain producing a blank screen, so no one has to know we’re using our iPhones at all.

Phil and I lost each other in the receiving line. Garron led Phil a few people ahead in line, because it wasn’t entirely clear where it began. I was really impressed with how the buffet was handled. There were several people behind the table serving up individual things and asking what kind of chicken did we want, dark or white meat? Did we want mac and cheese? Potato salad? Coleslaw? White or wheat roll? and did we want fruit? Other people were there to carry our plates and help us find seats if we wanted them to. Because of the number of people, the gym and the fellowship hall were used for the feast, and there were plenty of people to help with punch, water, coffee, and cake. A lot of the Twin Cities blind community was there yesterday — particularly those of us who used guide dogs, and it was clear that a lot of thought was put into offering help while maintaining our dignity. I was reunited with my husband in the fellowship hall after going through the line. I met up with several people — both in line and at our table — whom I hadn’t seen for years. A couple of them were kids when I last spoke to them, and were very much young adults yesterday! We grabbed a metro ride which was on time to take me to church to play 5:30 Mass, and Phil rode home from there on the city bus.

When I was a little girl, I tried to collect napkins from each wedding I attended. That didn’t last very long though, so now I try to remember something which stood out for me about the wedding. Everyone says our distinct moment was the blessing of the dogs. Those into music remember me singing with my sisters. One of the pastors officiating at the wedding yesterday is a very good friend of mine, and I complimented her on the blessing of the hands. When we attend weddings together, I often reach over and hold Phil’s hand at some point in the ceremony. Because of his recent hand issues, I didn’t do that yesterday, and I have to say I missed it. Fortunately, the blessing was written in my program, so I can copy it for all of you. If all of it doesn’t make it in the e-mail version, I’ll send another entry with just this part below.

Blessing of the Hands

These are the hands of your best friend, young and strong and full of love for you, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as you promise to love each other today, tomorrow, and forever.
These are the hands that will work alongside yours, as together you build your future.
These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch, will comfort you like no other. These are the hands that will hold you when fear or grief fills your mind. These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes; tears of sorrow, and tears of joy.
These are the hands that will help you to hold your family as one. These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it. These are the hands that even when wrinkled and aged, will still be reaching for yours, still giving you the same unspoken tenderness with just a touch. And lastly, these are the hands which will together reach out in prayer, supplication, and praise to our mighty Lord. In return these hands will feel the strength of Jesus’ hands as you three journey together.

Negative and Positive E-mail

Phil was at dialysis last night when I received a very disturbing e-mail from one of the lists to which I am subscribed. It came from the account of a man who had written he felt suicidal about a week before. He was experiencing some heavy Internet bullying which just didn’t stop. The e-mail last night was from a cousin of his saying he did it by hanging himself. When I read about his suicidal feelings last week, I definitely said some prayers for him over the next few days, but I didn’t reach out. The man who killed himself disclosed he had mental illness, and ironically he seemed to have a strong faith as well. I felt very badly for the next 24 hours wondering if I could have made a difference. Today I learned other list members had been reaching out and talking to him for years . They expressed frustration that they couldn’t contact anyone in his country to try to get him help. I don’t feel quite so badly, but it does raise questions about how responsible we are to get someone help in these situations.

Phil has been home the last couple of days with motion sickness. He gets this every once in a while when muscles are tense. He originally thought it was from some pain medication, but that has passed. His fingers are still hurting, despite seeing the primary care physician who put him on antibiotics. He sees the hand specialists Tuesday.

We were to have a cook-out with friends tonight. it would have been the perfect night for it weather-wise, but Phil wouldn’t have been up to it. He has dialysis tomorrow, and then we are to go to a wedding tomorrow afternoon. I hope I don’t have to go by myself.

The great part about him being home is that he was able to make a couple of valuable suggestions regarding the informational note I am starting to send to event planners. A Google search is pulling up results for event planners in the Twin Cities. I polished the note today and sent a couple. One planner has already requested more information and the sample file of a Malt Shop performance. I put the link to it in another entry, but in case there are new people reading who would like it, I’ll close with it here.

http://www.sendspace.com/file/ctdy37

tough. Trying to remain positive.

We finally have spring in the Twin Cities, and it’s great being able to travel by bus again. Phil and other friends introduced me to an iPhone app which allows the user to pull up most frequently used stops and routes to find out times. This is particularly helpful for us, because we have one route near our home which travels the same direction but on both sides of a street. Keeping track of times and on which side to wait has been a tricky business since we moved into the neighborhood seven years ago. Now that we have bus stop numbers and can have them fixed in the app, it’s going to be much easier.

It’s rare that I put off writing in my blog, but reporting on these last few days isn’t easy. I don’t like to write depressing stuff anymore than anyone likes to read it. Probably the hardest thing has been watching Phil deal with the severe pain in his hands. The pain has been so bad that it’s deprived him of sleep. Pain has also brought about instantaneous shifts in mood. Saturday he was playing with the dogs, and Zane bumped his hand with a paw in a wait which made him cry out in agony. This is a man who has dealt with a lot of physical pain without complaint. Something else triggered it as he was walking out to door to go to work this morning. His cries are still echoing in my head over an hour later. Sometimes it’s just a matter of bumping them or trying to use them which sets his hands off. He also had a rough night of needing the bathroom for intestinal pain and probably wouldn’t have gone to work at all if he didn’t have a doctor’s appointment to deal with his hands. He’s also having pain in different areas of his limb with the prosthesis. I don’t know how he does this, because it’s very hard to watch.

Then I came home Sunday night to find Phil had a nasty shock. Before I tell you what happened, I want to be sure and say that Phil had an apology from the people involved and accepted it. Phil found out he didn’t get the job for which he applied, and that was hard enough. But he found out he didn’t make the interview round by reading that interviews had already been conducted in a newsletter. I am glad he received an apology. But God bless the man! Phil tried to put a positive spin on the whole thing by commenting that the benefits in the job classification may not have been the best for him given his health circumstances. Because whoever is hired will be his supervisor, he has hopes that the hire will be internal and even told his retiring supervisor he has hopes for a particular person. I agree with his supervisor’s comments that he is truly being magnanimous about this turn of events.

This spring and early summer we have two sets of friends getting married, and the first wedding is Saturday. Originally, Phil had dialysis right after the wedding, but he was blessed to have the opportunity for an early morning slot. He’ll be able to enjoy himself a lot more as a result. The second wedding is not local, so we can’t attend. We are just as happy for this couple of the same gender and glad they live in a state which will recognize their marriage.

Yesterday I had a bit of frustration trying to carry the roll of wedding gift wrap. The bag was too small for the length of the tube, and the tube was very light. Because of all of the sounds around us as and my concentration on the traffic as Zane and I finished crossing a street, I didn’t feel or hear the wrapping paper drop from the bag. Some lady made sure to bring it back to me. Then on the bus, there was a detour for construction. The usual bus stops changed. A man and his kid walked with us from stop to stop. These were reminders that despite all of the pain in our internal and external worlds, there continue to be nice people in them.

could Facebook be the solution to a couple of quandaries?

This past weekend has caused me to reflect that one of the challenges of living in this neighborhood is not having many friends who are also neighbors. Phil and I try to be as self-sufficient as possible, but one of the things I liked about apartment living was that if something was a little more urgent than waiting for a reader, we had people to call for help. That’s not true here, unless we call on one of our friends to drive over here. There are language barriers with our immediate neighbors. On the north side is a Hispanic family who seem friendly enough the few times we have crossed paths but stay to themselves. The man and woman on the other side of us are a bi-racial couple, but she’s afraid of our big dogs. . I feel pretty safe here most of the time, but sometimes things happen which need attention a little sooner than the once a week our reader comes. They don’t happen that often, but two happened this weekend. Friday night After going to our traditional date night restaurant for my birthday, Phil was in a lot of pain and needed to go home. I stopped in the hardware store to have more Threadlock applied to my key holder. I checked to make sure I had my Earpods when getting off the bus at the stop near our house. They were there around my neck. But After I took Zane’s harness off, they were gone. Despite having a gig in an hour, I used my hands and bare feet to check inside our yard along our back sidewalk and a little into the grass on each side to see if I could find them. The brown blades of grass were thick enough to feel like cords and really fooled me a time or two. By Saturday I found a ride to a store to pick up a back-up pair in case the ones I lost couldn’t be found. . Until getting that ride, , I had visions of Zane choking on these things as he ate them during a relieving session in the yard unbeknownst to me. We pulled into the back driveway, and my friend handed me the pair I lost. They were outside the back gate all the time!

That same Saturday night, my canter was driving me home from church, and we were so busy talking that neither of us thought about my keys. Because I have a key to the choir loft, I give my canters my keys to get what they need. When I got home, I knew Phil was at dialysis. Seconds after my canter drove away, I realized what happened. She doesn’t have a cell phone. Luckily, it was a very nice night, because Zane and I had to sit outside until she realized what happened. She was getting out of the car at the grocery store when she found them and came back to me.

I contrast that with what happened Friday night right before I left for my gig. The person picking me up was in a wheelchair and rang my cell phone — as I requested — to let me know she was there. She saw me come out of the house and told me that we had a slight problem. She had arrived twenty minutes early, turned off her car, and it wouldn’t start. She had called roadside assistance but wasn’t sure how long it would take to get help. Meanwhile, she knew I had to play for this gig. She and I were on our cell phones trying to figure out how all of this was going to work when a guy named William came out of a building about one o’clock from across the street. He had seen us, came over to see what the problem was, gave the driver a jump, and we were on our way within a few minutes. He mostly talked to the driver, and they were out of hearing range. So I didn’t get to find out any details like his last name or even whether he lived in a house or apartment to thank him later. Unlike the neighborhood in which our apartment was located, this neighborhood doesn’t have get-togethers and doesn’t participate in neighbors nights out. But I am certain there are nice people like this William who would be glad to take a little time now and again and possibly become friends.
It is possible I may be emphasizing the wrong things in my music. I have belonged to a group of pianists/composers like myself, and they like to write songs, make albums and then make money. Many are appalled when requested to play other people’s work, but not me. It’s really hard to make money doing things with which people aren’t familiar. I don’t want to say I’ll never make another CD again. But it takes touring to support an album every few years, and this past Friday’s gig reminded me there’s money to be made locally and currently if I can just find it. This gig opened my eyes to the fact there are event planners who contract with caterers, many others, and entertainers like me to pull an event together. I looked at the web site of the person planning this event, and she represents the kind of people I need to know and convince of my uniqueness in the field of piano background music. So many pianists for events play schmaltzy jazz or classical music, but as the baby boomers and younger generations are in the majority of the work force, they want to hear light rock, pop, and a little soul — people like Styx, Journey, Abba, the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, and the Commodores. Because they want to talk, it can’t be at full volume as in a band setting. I hope I don’t sound like I’m bragging, but I believe I’m one of very few pianists who can pull it off without it sounding like it should be coming out of an elevator.

I have some ideas germinating about ways to use Facebook to work on these things without coming across as too aggressive on either front. If any of you experienced Fb users have ideas for me, please give me a shout.

Holding our Breath

By the fire on May 1st? Apparently we are due for a very late winter snow storm tonight into tomorrow. Phil is skeptical, because the weather people keep pushing the timing of the snow back, but I think we’ll have some white on the ground for a couple days. I’m glad I am not schedule to go anywhere. In addition to the snow, I have come down with a doozy of a cold! I’m sleeping when I can breathe and mostly when Phil isn’t here, so I don’t disturb him with my snoring. I have started my regimen which has helped a few times to keep colds from morphing into Bronchitis as they often have in the past. We are hoping to continue our hospital-free month trend in May, and it frightens me to think of Phil getting this awful thing. I have been trying to have as little bodily contact with him as possible!

Phil has been having some pretty severe hand pain, and I’m partially responsible for it. In mid-April, I misaligned a drawer and didn’t know it. Phil cut his finger trying to put it back — not realizing that the weight of a baking stone was making his job harder. He’s had dialysis nurses keeping an eye on the finger for infection, and there is no sign of it. The biggest problems are continuing to bump the spot and unintentionally using his hands in ways which aggravate it. It’s not the only cut or scrape, and we suspect some of it might be arthritis. The cold temperatures certainly aren’t helping either. He made the mistake of using a patch to alleviate the pain and was ill for days with vertigo and nausea. He knew he would have a reaction to the medication but didn’t realize how long it would last. Despite that, he hasn’t been out sick from work for a while. He took last Friday off to spend time with me for my birthday and to get the pups to the vet. (incidentally, The pups have clean bills of health. Zane is due for a dental cleaning, which will happen the middle of this month. ) One other day Phil was snowed in with no way to get to the office.

Even when he takes time out for appointments, he’s making sure to make up the time somewhere else. I see him reading and responding to e-mail during evenings and weekends, and I wonder if he isn’t working too hard. But it may be an advantage as you will see below.

Phil has also had to make visits to be fitted for hearing aids and to the prosthetist because of some pain where the knee and prosthesis meet. The prosthetist gave him a few pointers which might help, and he’ll go back for the hearing aids on the 13th. Sometime this month , he needs to get himself to the dentist too. I schedule his rides to and from dialysis, but he’s in charge of his own medical appointments.

It has been a week since applications closed for the job for which Phil has applied, and both of us are feeling the suspense of not hearing anything. We know there’s no guarantee of him getting it, but I think it would discourage him even more if he didn’t even make the cut for an interview. The University has a policy which encourages e-mail as an official means of communication, so at least it’s not about waiting for our reader to come read the print mail once a week. A number of people have approached me and asked whether we are worried that his health and taking days off for multiple hospitalizations may knock him out of the running. Phil doesn’t seem to be worried about that, because of the University’s nondiscrimination policies. I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t crossed my mind a time or two. One reassuring thing is that people know his work ethic. His current supervisor (who is retiring and whose job for which he is applying) is thrilled when Phil takes a vacation day for something other than health or snow.

social networking decisions

For many years, I have resisted getting a Facebook Account, because I thought it was nothing but photos and other visual material. Then I’ve watched Phil work with the Facebook app on the iPhone this fall and winter and decided to give it a try. Last week on Twitter, I had a discussion about whether to connect the two accounts and got some great advice and perspectives on doing so — including an app to allow me to choose which Tweets get posted to Facebook called Selective Tweets. I still have to test to see if I did it properly, but if so, the below may help my followers decide whether to interact with me on FB, Twitter, Skype,, 4-Square, Audioboo, games, and/or any combination.

The number of followers has never been as important as that people who follow enjoy the content. One person cautioned me that if the content is the same on both, she will unfollow on one of the accounts. I am making content decisions based on that and frankly my own preferences. There will be overlap of my blog entry links on both. I am aware that — some exceptions — my Twitter and Facebook followers are different “audiences”. I have a lot of sighted and low-vision friends and family members on Facebook and have received very positive feedback about connecting my 4-square account. My FB followers are interested in the places I go and perhaps photos of them.
I personally dislike 4-square notifications and links to photos on my Twitter account, and because it’s a text based social networking platform, I have more blind followers over there. I know there are those who post photos and 4-square on Twitter, but my sense is that most blind people feel as I do. Because I have my Audioboo account connected to Twitter, Twitter followers will be the only ones to receive most of my audio content. Occasionally I’ll include links to audio content in my blog which will be posted to both. But if audio is more your speed, you may want to follow me on Twitter.

On FB, you’ll find me with a simple search. My twitter, Audioboo, and Skype names are RebeccaKragnes. My user name on both Dice World and the iPhone Game center is RebeccaK425.