Please Don’t Drag Me Into Your Life

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I am a stranger.

This morning, as part of my e-mail routine, I checked the list of new Twitter followers. As I’ve said here and elsewhere, I don’t follow many people on Twitter, but I do check out all the new followers I get. Although most are spam these days, occasionally I find one interesting enough to reciprocate the follow.

Today’s batch included one that made me stop and think. About 75% of this person’s recent tweets were about the deteriorating health of her mom. Heart failure, lung problems, pneumonia. She was tweeting from the hospital, she was tweeting after discussions with doctors. She was keeping her followers apprised of what certainly seemed like the impending death of her mother, right down to details about how her father was taking it.

There are a few things that struck me about this.

Should strangers be expected to care?

First, I find it hard to believe that a good percentage of her 1,000+ followers really care enough about her and her life to want to read the grim details of the family health problem unfolding for her and being broadcast on Twitter.

Sure, if my mom went into the hospital, I’d likely mention it once or twice on Twitter. But if she got really sick and I was spending a bunch of time at the hospital as she lived her last days, I don’t think you’d find many blow-by-blow tweets about it. In fact, I don’t think you’d find many tweets from me at all. I’m not very close to my family, but I’m close enough to spend important time with them and to keep it mostly private. I have 700+ followers on Twitter and I’m positive that very few of them need (or want) to know about the things in my life that are real downers.

On the other side of the coin, I’ve followed folks on Twitter who have tweeted about their health problems or the health problems of family members. That’s normal; health problems are a part of life. But if any of them became absolutely consumed with the problem and tweeted mostly about that, I had to take a hard look at the situation. How well do I know this person? What can I do to make it better? How do I feel reading about this day after day, alongside tweets with links to yodeling cats, health care reform analysis, and cartoons? If the person was a stranger and I’d already said the comforting things I could and the tweets were making me feel like shit every day, I’d stop following. I’d have to. I cannot allow my emotional well being to be dragged down by the misfortunes of strangers who, for some reason, need to make their physical or emotional pain a part of other people’s lives.

So no, I’m not saying I stop following people who complain about a bad back or tweet briefly to mention a loved one with a health problem. But if I don’t know you and that’s just about all you tweet about, please don’t blame me for turning off the volume and getting on with my life.

I guess my point is, there’s just some things you shouldn’t expect strangers to deal with.

Can a person’s priorities be this fucked up?

The other thing that struck me is that this person was going through an ordeal with doctors and hospitals and family members, yet she still found time to follow me on Twitter. Are her priorities fucked up or what?

Now you might suggest that she followed me using some kind of automated tool. Lots of people do that for reasons that are not always in the best of interest of the Twitter community. (I don’t think she is a spammer, though.)

When I checked the time-stamp on the follow notification, I saw that she began following me at 5:47 AM today. My last tweet last night was before 10 PM and my first tweet this morning was after 6 AM. So I hadn’t tweeted anything that could trigger an automatic follow at that time of day.

So that leads me to believe that she’s surfing the Web, reading tweets, and interacting on the Internet. She’s somehow found my Twitter address and has decided to follow me.

Now.

While her mother is potentially on her deathbed.

Or is the whole family thing exaggerated? Just a story to make her sound more interesting to people who like to read that sort of thing?

I really don’t know what to think.

I’m not knocking anyone…Just trying to understand.

Please understand that I’m not writing this to knock a specific person dealing with a family problem. I’m just floored by the whole situation, trying to understand how someone’s take on “social networking” can be so incredibly different from mine.

And I’m wondering how off-base my thoughts on this matter are. How do you feel about strangers you meet on social networking sites detailing the sad parts of their lives? What is it that you want from your social networking activities?

Quincy Tales: The Campground Lawns

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Just blogging so I don’t forget.

For those of you who don’t know, I’m living in an RV park at Quincy, WA’s Colockum Ridge Golf Course. I’ve been here since June 8 and will likely be here until at least August 8.

My Camper

Once again, I’m the only camper at the RV Park. That’s okay with me.

The RV park is small and not very fancy. It has five full-hookup parking spots along a gravel parking lot and at least another dozen of so with just water and power. The spots are short and you have to back into them — no pull-throughs here. There are no amenities like a pool or showers. Of course, there is an 18-hole golf course, but that’s not really of much interest if you don’t play golf. I don’t play golf.

The campground — as I like to call it — does have one feature that I seldom see in campgrounds: thick, luxurious grass between the campsites. For me, this is a real treat. We don’t have a lawn in Arizona — it’s really stupid to have a lawn in the desert where water is scarce. Our “yard” is a mixture of sand and fine gravel that we spread when we did our limited landscaping and natural desert that we simply don’t mess with.

At home, the very idea of walking around barefoot outdoors is silly. But here — holy cow! Brings me back to my childhood, when I rarely wore shoes in the summertime.

The grass adds a few quirky things to my stay here. The first has to do with the sprinklers. When I first arrived, the sprinklers in the campground started up every day at 4 AM. I know this because I could hear them. My camper’s bed extends out over the back of my camper, right over the grass. The sprinklers come on and one of them sprays the side of the tent-like covering over my bed. There’s a lot of quiet noise: the hissing of the sprinklers as they start up, the stead stream of water, the rain-like sound of the drops on the side of my bed tent. It wore me up every morning. At 4 AM.

This went on for a few days. Finally, I stopped by the golf course office and left a message for the manager. I requested a 5 AM start. After all, I’m usually up by 5 AM, which was about the time the sun rises here in the summer.

The next morning, the sprinkler didn’t go on at 4 AM. It didn’t go on at 5 AM either. Instead, it went on at 9:35 PM. And it stayed on until about 10 PM.

Well, at least it wouldn’t interfere with my sleep. But it also ensured that I wouldn’t be enjoying my lawn in the late evening, not long after sundown.

It also made for some entertainment when new neighbors arrived and attempted to enjoy their lawns in the late evening. I’d hear their squeals of alarm when the sprinkler cut short their outdoor activities.

Of course, I have to put away my canvas chair and zip up the screen on my bed tent every night.

My Garden

In this shot, you can see my bed tent, my “garden,” and the sunflowers growing around the electrical box. The planter is from last year; I replanted it with tomatoes, basil, rosemary, and some flowers when I arrived this year.

The lawn also adds responsibility regarding the grass. My site includes a flat-bottomed round table. The bottom of the table suffocates the grass. So every two days, I move it to a new spot to give the grass beneath it a chance to recover. I also use 7-gallon water jugs as tie-downs for my awning. I have to move those every two days or so, too.

Throughout the week, I pull out the dandelion flowers so they don’t have a chance to go to seed. Once in a while, I weed around the electrical box for the site next door, where I’ve planted sunflowers. This is mostly so the weed-wacking guy doesn’t cut my sunflowers down, like he did last year.

Lawn mowing day is a big deal for me. I untie and move the water jugs and move the table and any other furniture out of the way. The guys come through with a weed-wacker and a lawn mower. They usually put the table back for me — it’s heavy! If it’s not windy, I give the grass a rest from the water jugs.

A video tour of my campsite and its luxurious grass.

Anyway, I made this little video this morning so you can have a better idea of what I’m talking about here. The campground may not be fancy, but it’s relatively pleasant, safe, and cheap. This is my second year here and everyone knows me. I have a [barely] passable WiFi Internet connection, mail delivery, and access to a restaurant and its ice machine. My helicopter is across the street and down the block, about 1/2 mile away. (Blocks tend to be one mile square around here.) Can’t get much more convenient than that.

Ash Scattering Woes

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Things don’t always go as planned.

I did an ash scattering the other day. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal. I’ve done ash scatterings before. (Read about two of them here and here.) But this one didn’t go exactly as planned.

By ash scattering, I mean the aerial scattering of cremains. Cremains is short for cremated remains. That’s what the next of kin get in a baggie and a box when someone is cremated. An ash scattering normally refers to scattering those remains over a large tract of empty land.

My Technique

I should start out by saying that I have ash scattering from a helicopter down to a science. After several trials, I’ve got a technique that works like a charm — for most scatterings, anyway. I get some tissue paper — the kind of paper you might put inside a gift box around a shirt or other item of clothing. I spread it out. The family (or friend) pours the cremains onto the paper. They gather up the corners and sides and twist them at the top to make a kind of paper package of the departed’s remains. This is all done inside, where there’s no chance the wind will foul things up.

Then we climb into the helicopter with the person responsible for scattering the cremains sitting behind me. All doors are on. I start up and fly to the location where the remains will be scattered. I climb to at least 1,000 feet over the target area. Then I bring the helicopter into a high hover — or at least a very slow flight speed.

We close all vents except the one in the ash scatterer’s door. The whole time we’ve been flying, he’s been holding the cremains in its paper package on his lap with the top still twisted closed. He untwists the top and grasps the package by its top. He slips it out through the vent and tosses it gently away from the helicopter.

The package is closed at first, but as it begins its tumbling descent, the wind whips it open. The ashes explode from the paper in a poof and drift away with the wind. The paper also falls to the ground, but since it’s thin, uncoated tissue paper, it’s likely broken down by the elements within a few months or a year.

I like this technique for several reasons:

  • It scatters the ashes with a certain amount of dignity. (One of my clients even bought their own tissue paper. It was printed with a pattern of shoes because the woman who was being scattered had liked shoes.)
  • It prevents the ashes from blowing back into the helicopter when dumped out.
  • It prevents the ashes or their packaging from creating a danger to the helicopter’s tail rotor or other parts.
  • It does an amazing job at scattering the ashes over a wide, open area.

Unfortunately, I didn’t use this technique on Saturday.

Saturday’s Scattering

Saturday’s ash scattering mission was tough for two reasons:

  • The next of kin were the adult children of the two cremated people they wanted to scatter. They were not small people. The lightest one weighed in at 216 pounds. Add me and you have four fatties on board.
  • The ashes were to be scattered over the family orchards, which covered a mere 30 or 40 acres and were surrounded by other farmland and orchards.

Clearly, I’d have to fly lower and use a different technique to scatter the ashes over such a small area. And because we were so heavy, I’d have to drain all but about 15 gallons of fuel out of the helicopter so I had the power I needed to fly low and slow without getting into trouble with the power curve.

We kept it simple. The ash scatterer would sit behind me and dump the two bags of ashes out through his vent. He’d do everything possible to make sure the bag opened on the outside of the helicopter. I made sure he clearly understood what would happen if he let go of the bag and it got into the tail rotor.

I examined both bags of cremains before the flight. The technology has come a long way. The mom’s ashes, created five years ago, were of a sand-like consistency, with very few grains larger than a tiny pebble. The dad’s ashes, created only recently, were powder-like.

We were all in good spirits when we did the flight. I took them out over the target area and made a high reconnoissance as they pointed out the orchard blocks. Apples, pears, and cherries. (Wash your fruit, readers!) The wind was coming from the west at about 7 miles per hour and would really help me deal with the weight I was carrying. I could point into the wind and fly on a diagonal while the scattering was being done behind me. But also to the west was a set of high tension power lines. If I got into a settling with power incident — which I’d have to identify before it became a problem — I’d have to avoid the wires on any kind of escape route. The best thing to do would be to keep moving at a speed above ETL. I’d come in from the northeast for my pass.

With that plan made, the ash scatterer prepared the first bag. I came in over the northeast corner of the first orchard block about 200-300 feet up. On my word, he began dumping ashes out of the helicopter. I could see through the corner of my eye how they streamed behind us. I pointed the helicopter into the wind and flew almost sideways to keep the ashes away from the aircraft as well as I could. I was probably doing about 20 knots ground speed.

The second bag had a small hole in it, which was discovered when the ash scatterer’s sister handed him the bag. (And yes, I still have bits of Mrs. B all over the back seat of the helicopter.) Those remains followed the first. I only had one moment when there was a power issue and I resolved it quickly by picking up speed.

Then we were done.

We made a pass over the family home before returning to the airstrip where I’m based for the summer. I set down on the concrete pad, cooled the engine, and shut down.

Cremains on Helicopter

The white dust you see is the cremated remains of Mr. & Mrs. B.

But it wasn’t until we got out of the helicopter that I noticed a fine dusting of Mr. and Mrs. B on the right side of my helicopter.

The family wasn’t the least bit upset about their parents hitching a ride on the side of the helicopter. Or even about bits of mom in the back seat. They were more concerned about cleaning it up for me. But I told them I’d take care of it, after making sure vacuum use wouldn’t bother them.

Then I did a complete walk around of the helicopter, opening up panels to make sure there were no traces of cremains inside any of the compartments. I also looked in the fan scroll area behind the engine. It looked clean, too. The only thing that looked as if it could be a problem was the air inlet behind the right passenger door. As shown in the photo below, it apparently got a heavy dose of dust.

The Extent of the Dusting

I flew the helicopter at least two more hours that day. I gave some rides to a grower’s kids and three hired hands. I flew to Cave B to join the ash scatterers for a celebratory lunch. I flew up the Columbia River as far as Chelan, where I spent the day with a friend, and flew back at high speed along the Waterville Plateau, landing at dusk in 95° heat.

The helicopter flew fine. Cylinder head temperature was up a bit more than average on the last flight of the day, but I figured that was due to my high speed and the hot temperatures. I’d seen it that high before when flying during Arizona summers. It wasn’t anywhere near red line — it was just a bit higher than the tickmark on the gauge where it normally sits.

I’d hoped that Mr. & Mrs. B would get blown off the aircraft, but they didn’t.

Cremains in Air Filter
Cremains sucked into the air intake on the side of the helicopter. The filter will be replaced today.

The air filter had me worried. It would likely need to be replaced. I called my Seattle mechanic on Sunday morning. He proceeded to tell me about all the damage that could be caused by the cremains. Best case scenario: none of it got into the engine. Worst case; it did and was already grinding away at moving engine parts. I was told that symptoms of a problem would include increased oil use and overheating. He promised to overnight the filter for Tuesday delivery.

I went out to the helicopter with a sponge and bucket of clean water and sponged Mr. & Mrs. B off the side of the helicopter. Today, when I go out to change the filter, I’ll bring along a vacuum and inverter so I can vacuum Mrs. B out of the back seat.

And I’ll monitor the helicopter’s operations closely in flight, keeping an eye out for overheating and other indications of a problem.

You can bet that the next time I scatter cremains, I’ll do it with tissue paper and a high altitude drop.

Open-mindedness

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Defined with a video.

In keeping with this weekend’s theme of skepticism (in celebration of The Amazing Meetint (TAM) 7 going on in Las Vegas right now — but allowing for the fact that I’m working on a book revision and can’t spend much time blogging — I present the YouTube video “Open-mindedness” by QualiaSoup. The director, Doug, does a better job of explaining open-mindedness and skepticism than I ever could.

A side note here: I found this video on the Skeptoid Web site, which I mentioned in another blog post. Brian Dunning says he “*loves*” this video and I can see why. But unlike Brian, I can’t see how anyone could possibly be offended by it. If they are, well they must not be very open-minded at all.

Some Skeptic Resources on the Web

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Where I get my doses of reality and reason.

July 9, 2009 was the opening day of The Amazing Meeting 7, an annual gathering of skeptics. This year (and last, too, I believe), they’re meeting in Las Vegas, NV. If I weren’t contracted to sit around and wait for it to rain here in central Washington state, I’d be there among them, breathing the fresh air of reason, meeting people who know how to think for themselves, and watching presentations that help me to understand more about the world around me.

The real world.

I realized that I was a skeptic about four years ago. I’d begun listening to podcasts and had stumbled upon Penn Jillette’s radio show podcast. He and his guests and callers spoke frankly about religion, helping me realize that I wasn’t alone in my thoughts on the topic. Somewhere along the line, the term “skeptic” must have been mentioned. I searched out other resources. Soon, I was listening to skeptic podcasts and subscribing to skeptic magazines. Penn’s radio show has since been discontinued, but I’ll cherish its memory — as weird as that might sound. After all, it triggered the dawn of my skepticism and every free-thinking thought that came afterwards.

A skeptic — in case you’re not familiar with the term as I use it here — is someone who does not believe in anything without evidence to support it. Religion, psychic power, homeopathy, ghosts, Big Foot, the Loch Ness Monster — these are all topics we’re not very likely to take at face value. We look at everything — or at least most things — with a skeptical eye, always thinking about the evidence that might prove it’s true. I found that the deeper I dug into the world of critical thinking, the more I really thought about the world around me.

It also made me a lot less tolerant when I encountered stupidity, but that’s something to discuss elsewhere.

Anyway, I can’t attend TAM7 in person, but I’ve found a way to attend it virtually, through the tweets of fellow tweeple online. If you’re a Twitter user and skeptic, you might consider following these folks:

@TAMLive
@briandunning
@dcolanduno
@Swoopy
@RichardWiseman
@Daniel_Loxton
@derekcbart
@southernskeptic
@scottsigler
@pennjillette
@MrTeller

If you’re not on Twitter, you might want to tune into some excellent Skeptic podcasts. These are the three I’m currently subscribed to:

  • Skepticality is probably my favorite skeptic podcast. Derek and Swoopy have a great casual style as they interview folks in the world of science and philosophy, and are able to share information in an enjoyable, approachable way. After a Skepticality interview, I feel as if I’ve not only learned something, but I’ve had fun doing it. This is the official podcast of Skeptic magazine, which I subscribed to until recently. (Long story what I can discuss elsewhere.) Each episode is an hour or longer in length, making it a good listen on a long car ride.
  • Skeptoid, by Brian Dunning is a different sort of podcast. Each episode is about 10 minutes long (although some go longer) and looks at the facts behind “pop phenomena.” Brian does his homework and presents each argument well, often making you wonder why you ever thought there was a shred of truth in some of the non-scientific claims. He tends to be a bit sarcastic at times, but the sarcasm often makes for an entertaining episode. Brian is not connected with any particular organization and appreciates contributions; a donation is a good way to get all back episides as MP3s on a CD so you can easily listen to an old episode or share it with a friend.
  • Point of Inquiry is the official podcast of the Center for Inquiry. Hosted by D.J. Grothe, it also uses an interview format. D.J.’s interview style can clearly be seen as “devil’s advocate,” as he often takes the opposite view of his subject, encouraging to explain or defend their views. I’m not a big fan for this kind of interview style, but fortunately, D.J. falls just short of overdoing it. I enjoy most episodes, but since I tend to listen to several in a row, I find that the somewhat lengthy and repetitive advertisements for the Center of Inquiry and its publications can get a bit tiresome. Still, I think this is one of the best out there.

This is my list, in celebration of TAM. Have Twittering skeptics to add to this list? Or skeptic podcasts you think I might enjoy? Please list them in the comments for this post.