By: Ken Boone I woke up last Tuesday ready to jump into a busy day. I posted my blog the day before, and was about to sketch out the script of my latest podcast episode. That venture is still very much a work in progress. But first things first. Made a cup of my morning coffee. Check. Took my morning meds. Check. Hopped on my exercise bike. Check. Checked my email. Check. Wait, not so fast. In addition to the typical message from AARP, NextDoor, and the guy who swears that they can teach me to mix like a Grammy award winning engineer for the low price of $250, I got an urgent request from a client. I skipped over the AARP email, scanned over the NextDoor email, and laughed then deleted the sales pitch from the mixing coach. I don't have much patience these days for people's side hustles. Thanks for the free stuff, but I think I'll just move on. However, the email from someone claiming to be a client piqued my interest. They requested that I purchase eBay gift cards that needed to be sent out "soon". Now, a person with a normal sense of suspicion would easily see this as a scam. I, however, thought this was another example of a client asking for extras. Growing up, I was taught three things (among many others). First, before you place blame, know your part. Second, don't overstay your welcome. Third, put limits on your requests of others. I soon realized that not everyone was taught the same things I was. In particular, the adage of "the squeaky hinge gets the grease" was recited at more dinner tables than I can count. So when people failed to keep track of the asks they were making, I would inevitably pick up a resentment, or four! As I said, my rational self should have immediately got a whiff of a scam, but not this guy. In addition to feeling unduly put upon, it conjured up old feelings of "eBay Envy". That's what you get when you're the only one in your tribe who never scores on that online auction site. What was really happening in my head was fear and jealousy ruling the day. I felt as though my client, among other people, was not playing fair when it came to helping each other fulfill their dreams. No mutual back scratching. So instead of making my asks, I'd stew then resent, then... It took that life-altering event I've been droning on about recently, to get me to a point where I could comfortably demand my due. I'm still working toward being able to command my due. Based on how quickly I bounced back from my medical condition, I think I'll get there quickly. Now, about the eBay portion of the story. Historically been as lucky with eBay as I've been with the lottery. In other words, I think I'm jinxed. I've been outbid at the last minute a number of times. I've had my credit card rejected one time when I actually won. I even got conned when I bid and one some baseball gear for my then 15-year-old son, which would have fit him when he was playing tee ball! So, here we are. The sender of the email(s) was about to go in for the kill. I was busy ranting and raving about the client always asking for things that would take chunks out of my day. That, and recalling the how I've been constantly victimized by the evil forces at eBay, blinded me to what was really happening. It took Celia calmly telling me to look at the sender's email address. Which I did. It wasn't the client's email address. Then she pointed out that the client always uses the recipient's name in the greeting. That too was missing. Then she reminded me that I did have some success on eBay. I purchased the recording equipment that got me back on the path I'm currently on! With my wits collected, and the rage gone, I hit the reply button, asked how many gift cards and in what denominations. When they replied by asking for seven cards in the amount of $100 each, my grumbling turned to belly laughs. I let "the client" stew for about one hour before my reply. Hitting the reply button again, I typed "NICE TRY" the hit send. I then waited for a change in strategy from my opponent. And I waited some more. That episode occurred last Tuesday morning, and I'm still waiting for him to make his next move! But wait, there's more!
0 Comments
By: Ken Boone It's Thursday morning, and I find myself in a familiar spot. Sitting in the waiting room of "Celia's place". That's what I call hospital where Celia had replacement surgery on bot hips. My place, where they treated me for my heart condition is on the other side of town. While they are part of the same hospital system, those two facilities are as different as night and day. Her procedure is simple compared to the surgeries she had in July and November of 2019. That's right, two hip replacements in one year. A brave soul is she! Today's is basically a "clean up on aisle 3" sort of affair. It's so routine that the surgeon said she would be discharged later on today. Last year was filled with many challenges for Celia and me, healthwise. We were hoping have all of it behind us by 2020, but that doesn't appear to be the case. We have big plans for this year, and in fact, some of those plans are now starting to take shape. Needless to say, medical misadventures are not part of those plans! Since I started writing this blog and recording my podcast, my perspective has changed dramatically. Where I once referred to the challenges in my life as grievances, I now call most of them regrets. The reason why is that I now take the extra step of taking ownership of those challenges and helping to shape the outcomes. The old, wise saying is making lemonade out of lemons! There's a guy walking around the waiting appearing to try to sell durable medical equipment to the loved ones of the patients who are back in the surgical suites. I'm glad I'll be able to tell him that I've got one of everything he's hawking! I just finished having a post-op consultation with the surgeon. He told me that she came through the procedure with flying colors. He also repeated that she would be discharged later today. I was cautiously optimistic because the pre-op nurse earlier said that she would be get overnight for observation. Note to self: doctor trumps nurse, right? There are at least 20 people who insisted I let them know how Celia's procedure went. They all wanted phone calls, but I think I'll text them instead. As I got older, I realized that I'm not much of a phone guy. In fact, I'm not much of a talker, period. For people who knew me when I was young, that must be difficult to comprehend. Moving right along, I'm now in Celia's room, and she looks fantastic! She's typically very drowsy from the anesthesia, but today she alert and chipper. There's a knock on the door. Enter Carly, her nurse for the day. She looks like she's 18, but has the knowledge base of someone who's done this for 40 years! After the introductions, she repeated the pre-op nurse's assessment that Celia will be an overnight guest. That wasn't good news to my ears, but I did pack a change of clothes just in case. That's right, we are one of those couples who always crashes in the same room! People seem to like that about us. When we told Carly that the doctor said Celia would be allowed to leave today, she expressed a little concern. Because this was a procedure to remove some infected debris, Carly was typically against same-day discharges. Most nurses would have stood their ground, but not Carly. She called the surgeons office and put in a plan of attack that she would be willing to sign off on. Celia and I spent the next 3 to 4 hours discussing all of the things we would do after she was discharged and fully recovered. In no particular order, we would:
At the same time, Carly was coordinating "Operation Celia Goes Home" with Physical Therapy, the surgeon's office, and everyone else who had to sign off. Did I say that she looked like she was only 18? Yes I did! It's now 6:45pm and Carly comes in with the final verdict. Celia gets to go home in about an hour! That's the good news. The bad news is that Carly's shift ends at 7:00pm, and the night crew would be responsible for the discharge. Not their strong suit. To our amazement, Carly refused to leave until everything was in order and Celia was in the wheelchair on her way to the lobby. I also remember saying earlier that her skills of a veteran nurse! It's now 7:45pm and I'm pulling the car around to the hospital entrance, when I see a vision. It's Carly clad in an overcoat and with a backpack. I wanted to roll down my window to give her a shout out, but she just got done with a long shift. After the transportation nurse finished loading Celia into our car, we took off like gangsters fleeing a bank heist. That was in case they changed their minds. I told her that I saw Carly walking through the parking lot. Celia also saw her leaving through the front door a few seconds earlier. We both had the same impression about her as she appeared in her street clothes. She no longer looked like she was 18. She looked like she was 14! All I can say was "damn, they're making angels younger these days"! But wait, there's more!
By: Ken Boone Today's my birthday! To be precise, at 6:40PM, I will have successfully lived 62 years on this earth. I share this date with R&B singer Anita Baker and actor Lorenzo Lamas. The three of us may have been born literally minutes apart. But perhaps the most famous member of this club is comedian George Burns. He lived to the ripe old age of 100, which gives the rest of us hope. January 20th is also the day we inaugurate the President of the United States, although that happens every four years. For me, it's either an extra happy birthday or a "I can't wait for this day to end" date on the calendar, depending on if my candidate wins or loses. And that's all I'll say on the subject. For me, this particular birthday is much more significant to the others to date. Today makes it 50 years that I've outlasted an "end of the world" prediction. According to a then well-respected source, the country of China was going to press their version of the red button and put an end to all of humanity! As I look at all of the equipment on my desk and in my studio, it's obvious that they (China) did not blow up the world. They have bombarded the marketplace with affordable stuff that leveled the playing field in the areas of music, communications, entertainment, etc. You probably would like to ask me, "Ken, what in the heck are you talking about?" Well, let me start by saying that I heard this "prediction" when I was just six years old. My brother and I went to my mother's Sunday morning choir rehearsal, sitting quietly in the back of the space. Of all the new, weird things I was forced to do as a result of my Mom converting to a new religion, attending her choir rehearsals was the worst, by far! The choir director, who also served as a conference-employed Bible instructor, carried a great amount of spiritual clout within those circles. And she sure knew how to wield that clout. I can't speak for anyone else, but she single-handedly inflicted more spiritual harm on me than any one person could have. In this instance, she was reading an article about that prediction of destruction. That fateful event was supposed to occur sometime in calendar year 1970. In all fairness, she was reading a newspaper article and I was eavesdropping on "adult conversation". That's a recipe to get things wrong, to be sure. However, that message stuck with me. So much so that I tried to live a sinless life in the hopes that the 12-year-old Ken would get a spot among the select few who gained eternal life. When 1970 came and went with a whimper, my belief system was shattered and replaced with an unhealthy dose of cynicism. The decades that followed were filled with a lot of fits and starts. For every significant achievement in my life, there were twice as many episodes of underachievement. I could tout the fact that I had very few failures, but that's because I didn't attempt to accomplish many things. Although it took longer for me than for others, wisdom eventually kicked in. I looked at the accomplishments of others as inspiration, and not a source of contempt. There were others who endured much worse than me who not only survived, but thrived. And I realized that I turned out just fine! As I said earlier, today is my birthday. Part of the extended celebration is a visit to my cardiologist for a test that will help to define my quality of life for the next decade of my life. I also treated myself to an inexpensive set of headphones to go in my mobile podcasting setup. Those "cans", like most of the other items in my well-stocked gig bag, were made in China, the country who, according to that prediction, was planning to end us 50 years ago! I guess not! But Wait, There's More!
By Ken Boone I’m sitting in the lobby of a government building in Charlotte, NC. Celia’s attending a meeting in one of the conference rooms somewhere in this huge structure. Unlike most of the government buildings I’ve been in, this one looks more like an art school, complete with hip lighting and avant garde sculptures in the courtyard. Maybe this is why I feel inspired to write at this time. As I mentioned on my most recent podcast, I had appointments with both my cardiologist and my general practitioner a couple of days ago. I also got an order to produce multiple podcast episodes for a client. While the two seem unrelated, I felt that the results I got from the doctors would impact how I approach the podcasts. As I expected, both doctors had to do a double take, because I looked like a totally different person. I lost over 60 pounds of bloat and moved around without getting winded. I do have a turkey neck, but I’ll wear it like a badge of honor. Dr. V., my cardiologist was concerned when I told him that my blood pressure readings were still elevated. He introduced another med that should address that issue. Dr. R., my primary care physician, wanted to make sure that my A1C didn’t go past my last reading of 6.4. Apparently a mere one decimal point rise would throw me in the diabetes range. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Although I was annoyed with myself at the possibility of receiving another serious diagnosis, I was committed to accept the outcome and follow the doctors’ orders. I did use the 24 hours between my appointments and getting the lab results to think about the holes I dug for myself and what I did to stop digging. I remember during my first visit with Dr. V, he used phrases like “treating this like I had a cancer diagnosis”, “trying to make me comfortable”, and “circling the drain” to describe my condition, treatment, etc. In other words, I looked and acted like someone who didn’t care if I lived or died. Dr. R. was much gentler, but equally concerned about my prognosis. With meds and marching orders in hand, I went about taking their suggestions and seeing positive results. However, I still had to address what was going on between my ears. To me, that was the hard part. I started by comparing the hopes and dreams I had for my endeavors with the outcomes achieved. I quickly realized that things weren’t going according to plan. When I started this business, my goal was to devout 2/3 of my efforts to creative pursuits (music, podcasts, blog posts) and 1/3 of my efforts on business services such as accounting. Much to my frustration, the time allocations were flipped. I’m working hard to correct this problem and will keep you posted on my progress. In 2019, I produced 60 podcast episodes, wrote 30 blog posted and 3 theme songs. I hope double my output in 2020. Before I left home to come here, I saw that I got an email from Dr. R. She told me that my A1C was lowered to 5.6! I’m out of diabetes range. I also found out that I was getting false blood pressure readings. They mentioned something about a defective monitor. Those numbers are actually normal! All of that is wonderful news. Now if I can hit my numbers regarding the podcasts, blog posts, and theme music, I’ll be cooking with gas! I haven’t totally emerged from that hole, but at least I’ve stopped digging! But wait, there's more!
For the first time in decades, I was awake to watch the Times Square ball drop on TV. It wasn't because I stuck to some well thought-out plan, like taking a nap in the afternoon. It was because I've been sticking to the resolutions I made this past September. While getting ready to "street me" at the end of my unplanned visit to Atrium Health University City in Charlotte, I was given a long list of instructions to follow. Celia took careful notes. Angel and her husband, Chad, went to the supermarket to pick up foods that made up my new diet. They then went to the pharmacy to pick up the first set of meds prescribed by both of my new doctors. They refused to take a dime for all of the things they bought that day. And they a lot! Enough to fill my refrigerator, my freezer, my pantry, AND my medicine cabinet. I'm still trying to think of a way to pay them back. Now, back to the resolutions. I was told watch my sodium intake. So I've become an expert at reading labels in the grocery store. It was quite depressing to find out that I have to swear off the deli counter in Publix. I was also advised to keep tabs on my level of physical exertion until my stress test that's supposed to happen later this month. My first visit to my cardiologist was an event I'll never forget. Although he looked like a man who's seen it all, he took one look at me and asked why did I take so long to seek medical attention. He then hosted my latest "come to Jesus moment". (I was getting a lot of those during that time.) I don't think Dr. V held out much hope for me. Not because he though my condition was dire. I probably looked like a person who lacked the fortitude, and follow-through, undertake the changes necessary to get back to some level of normalcy. What he didn't know about me is that once I set my mind to do something, a bulldog determination takes hold of every fiber of my being. And one of the things that triggers that state is when it's suggested that I can't do something. With the zeal of a new believer, I dove into my new regimen, with shockingly positive results. My heart guy is happy. He noticed some major changes at my follow up visits. My wife is happy. Angel and Chad are happy. And most important, I'm happy too! I have an appointment with Dr. V on this Tuesday. I also have an appointment with my general practitioner. She hasn't seen me since my initial visit in October. I can't wait to see their reactions. I'm not expecting them to take me off of my meds. I've come to terms with the fact that I'll be taking between 10-12 pills a days for the rest of my life. What I'm hoping for is a pat on the back for sticking to my New Life Resolutions! But wait... there's more!
By: Ken Boone It's Sunday afternoon and I'm sitting at my computer trying to come up with something clever to write for my blog post scheduled to be published tomorrow. Not only is this the first post I'm writing in over a month, it's my year-end post. And just to keep things interesting, I'm trying this new communications strategy of coordinating my blog posts with my weekly podcasts. And did I mention that I was trying to be clever? I've been writing blog posts since February 2019, and got to be pretty proficient when it came to churning them out on a weekly basis. And I was actually getting some positive feedback on the writing style, subject matter, and wit. All was going fine until my medical crisis that hit me in September. The condition left me with my senses dulled by a lack of oxygen to my brain. I could still string more than two sentences together, but the ability to sometimes say or write something profound temporarily escaped me. As part of my recovery, I had to learn how to not push myself too hard physically. After much frustration, I decided to apply that to my intellectual rehabilitation. It seems to be working out ok (at least that's what I'll keep telling myself). This brings us to today. With two days to go before New Years Day 2020, I can reasonable assume that I will survive to see the ball drop (if I don't fall asleep before, as is my case for the past 20+ years). So I'll make my resolutions now. I'll continue to be grateful for things big and small. I'll continue to try and to the next right thing. I'll keep publishing my blog and my podcast. While I'm at it, I'll take my music more seriously and get ready for the day when Celia and I hit the stage again. While this isn't an exhaustive list of resolutions, it will require me to exercise some discipline. And to do that, I will try to keep things simple. Here's wishing you a happy and productive New Years 2020! Thanks and God Bless! But wait... there's more!
By: Ken Boone
Well, I finally ordered that guitar I’ve mentioned in the “My Wanter Wants” portion of my podcasts. It’s my gratitude gift for this year. 2019 has been a year full of challenges for Celia and me. Although we’ve faced many different challenges over the years, this year, the issues have been health-related. Celia’s had both hips surgically replaced. The first procedure was in July, while the other hip was operated on this past Monday. Her recovery is coming along nicely. My health woes caught us by surprise, and involved hypertension which led to heart and kidney problems. The condition was considered quite serious when I finely sought medical treatment. I’m pleased to say that my recovery is also coming along nicely, although there’s a good chance that I’ll have to take between 10 – 12 pills a day for the rest of my life. One of the side effects of my illness was that the creative side of me has seemed to go into hiding. That means that I haven’t written a single blog post in over a month. That also means that I haven’t produced a single podcast episode in over two months. That is until now. It seems like the number of podcasters out there have at least doubled in the time since my last episode. I could make that one of my grievances for this blog post, and maybe I should. But that won’t be of help to anyone, especially me. I could look at this as increased competition, which never scared me in the past. As far as blogging, I’ve setting a modest goal of returning to one blog post per week for the foreseeable future. My ultimate goal is to post something every day. While that seems overly ambitious, it is doable. So here I am finishing the first blog post I’ve written in over a month and I can’t tell if it’s coherent in the least bit. I can blame that on the fact that one of the effects of my recent was a loss of oxygen to my brain. But I can assure you that the posts will get better with time! In the meantime, I just got an email that my new guitar is on the UPS truck and should be in my hands within three days. I’ll let you know how I like it in my next podcast, which should be recorded sometime in the next couple of years. Take care and God bless! By: Ken Boone
I'm not going to take up too much of your time with this blog. It seems like an eternity since I've been in the blogging world (September 9th was my last entry). In fact, I'm playing a very small game of catch up on just about every one of my usual activities. I just started driving last week. A lot of you know that I'm recovering from a pretty serious illness. My prognosis is good, but I have nothing to do with that. If it weren't for Celia and her wonderful friends, I never would have agreed to seek medical attention. Once I got to the hospital, the medical professionals swooped in to take care of the urgent aspects of my condition. They did the work quickly, efficiently, and without letting me in on the fact that I was pretty damn sick. I was given some simple advice when I left the hospital by my nurse Breana. She told me to listen to my body, watch more college football, and to do things in moderation. For the month that I've been back home, I've followed all three rules. So far, so good! So here's the thing: I'm going to put a pause on my podcasts. I'll still produce Celia, Angel, and now, Becky O. To be totally honest, losing some of my creative juices seems to be a casualty of the loss of oxygen to my brain when my illness was at it's worse. I hope it will return at some point in the near future. Thanks for indulging me in this rant. I hope to post my next blog next Monday! Take care and God bless!
By: Ken Boone I have to admit, I don't attend church services much these days. Celia and I have played in a number of churches, large and small until minor health problems sidelined us. We're now feeling well and looking forward to packing up the car with gear to take our ministry back on the road. Some basic research led to the conclusion that one in four people who grow up in church, leave that church by their late teens or early twenties. While that was surprising, I was curious to find out how many of the people who stays in church remains at the church they grew up in. I couldn't find an answer to that question. Our "back of the envelope" research revealed to Celia and me that a lot of smaller churches are filled with family members, sometimes going back 4 generations! Again, not so clear when it comes to the larger congregations. Last week, the Facebook family I'm a part of received some tragic news. Everyl and Ronnie past away. They were two of our most beloved family members. Also, neither one of them still attended the church we grew up in. In fact, very few of us still live in New York State! But the announcement went out and we all responded. We offered condolences and reminisced about places we hadn't been to in decades. But that didn't matter. What does this mean? It means that for all the issues we have with social media in general and Facebook in particular, these platforms still have tremendous value! This looks like a good topic for insightful discussion. Let's hear from you... But wait... there's more!
By: Lawrence Sumpter (Guest Blogger) On September 1, 2019 we loss a legend! A gifted musician of grace and distinction, Everyl Chandler-Gibson was the organist for the Ephesus SDA Church (Harlem, NY) from the tender age of 16 and holding that post for over 60 years. When she sat down to play the pipes the instrument would literally sing and every key struck would bring out her passion for music. Everyl played with a style all her own. The large room would come alive and the Ephesians would pat their feet and hum to the familiar tunes, from Bach and Handel, to Spirituals, Gospel and Hymns, all on the pipes. Two of the churches favorites was Hallelujah, from Christ on the Mount of Olives and Watch Ye Saints the congregation would literally come to great crescendo, applauding and saying Amen! She was also blessed with a fabulous sense of humor. Everyl Gibson could hold a full conversation with you and not miss a note as she'd played. Another one of her trademarks she was known for throughout the New York area was her ability to play in stiletto heels and not miss a pedal. There were many talented musicians at the Ephesus SDA Church during that era, but there was only one Everyl. She had the touch for the pipes. Not only was she loved at her home church, many other congregations throughout the New York Metropolitan Area had the opportunity to experience her gift. During her life she was the organist for various churches in this vast market. Everyl was a student of distinction at Julliard School of Music which resulted in her being chosen to accompany several budding artists. Among them were Leontyne Price, Andrew Frierson, Rawn Spearman and Joyce Bryant. She earned both her Bachelor Master of Science in Music from NYU. She worked for the New York Board of Education. At the time of her retirement, she was overseeing the music curriculum. Everyl Chandler-Gibson was a woman of class and a brilliant organ performer rendering classical, gospel and spirituals on the pipes. I have recognize Mrs. Gibson every year for Black History month. A true legend in her own rights with a warm spirit who gave back to many of us around Ephesus SDA Church. She was also known as a devoted mother to her daughter, Melody, and a doting grandmother to three grandchildren. The link below is Mrs. Gibson playing the Holy City. Rest In Peace Sis. Gibson and we'll see you in the morning faithful servant of God. In A Little While We're Going Home. Please keep Sis. Gibson family in prayer: WATCH EVERYL CHANDLER-GIBSON (Click YouTube link below): About the Author: |
About the AuthorAs owner of the Descant Music & Media Group, Ken is a creator and producer of several podcast shows. He is also a music producer, as well as a writer and an accountant for small businesses and nonprofits. Archives
June 2020
Categories |