Month: June 2023

The Rich Soil of Ukraine

The Rich Soil of Ukraine

Bob made a comment to Viktor, his father-in-law, about how Ukrainian soil is “so rich and black, it stains my hands like ink!”. Viktor’s retort? “Well Robert, over the centuries, many idiots have tried to capture Ukraine, and we keep having to bury them in the ground here – that is why the soil is so rich.”

Bob and Viktor

Those lines came from my friend Bob Pitts recently published book, UKRAINE: THE AWAKENING: My 20 years of witnessing Ukrainians rediscover their nationhood. Those of you who are regular readers of this blog know that I’ve recently written a couple of articles about Bob and his current life in Ukraine. You can find links to those blogs in the Addendum. Over the past eighteen years, Bob and his wife Vita have divided their time between the USA and Ukraine, where Vita is originally from. They have lived in Ukraine continually for the last two years, and have seen up close and personal Putin’s unjust attack on, and war with, Ukraine.

When the war began, Bob became concerned about how little westerners, especially Americans, understood about Ukraine, its people, its history and how the relationship with Russia is misinterpreted in Western media coverage. As a result of that concern, he wrote UKRAINE: THE AWAKENING. The book gives readers a view into Ukrainian culture and the beauty of the people. I’ve bought and read the book and recommend it to anyone who has even a remote concern about Ukraine and world events. Here’s my quick review.

Ukraine: The Awakening

Bob is, of course, correct. Most of us Americans know little about Ukraine, or its history. That’s what makes this book so perfect. A scant 135 pages, it gives us the basics. With a combination of current events, a bit of personal and family history, a little Ukrainian and Russian History, interviews with some Ukrainian young adults and thoughts about the future, Bob achieves his goal – it not only talks about Ukraine’s Awakening over the past twenty years, it provides the reader with an awakening as well.

Bob isn’t one of the great writers America has produced like Ernest Hemingway (Fiction), or David McCullough (History/Biography). For the purposes of this book, I think he’s something better – he’s a conversationalist. Reading the book feels a bit like sitting in his family room, or at a local bar with him and he is giving you his thoughts on Ukraine. With a casual, but passionate writing style, Bob pulls you in, and then gives you some things to think about. Eminently readable, it’s an important book at the right time.

While the entire book is good, my favorite section contains interviews with three young Ukrainians, each telling their own story. These aren’t fairytales, but real stories by real people. These are dynamic, vibrant stories that give you hope for the future, not only for Ukraine, but also for young adults everywhere. As The Who sang, “The Kids Are Alright.”

Artem, One of Those Interviewed by Bob.

The Ukrainian counteroffensive has been going on for a few weeks now and Ukraine will remain in the news. Additionally, the Wagner group takeover of Rostov and attack towards Moscow started and then stopped. Who knows what impact that will have. Some will pay attention. Some will not. If you are a smart and caring person, I recommend you pay attention. I also recommend you buy this book. Ukraine is too important and all of us should learn more about this country. You can find it on Amazon, and the price is right. Go ahead and buy it. What are you afraid of? That you might learn something new?

Addendum:

Holly and Eve

Holly and Eve

Detective Sam Sullivan looked at the woman’s body and raised an eyebrow. Something wasn’t quite right. The morgue’s Medical Examiner looked at him. “Did I miss something?” Sullivan shook his head and lowered his eye, which, by the way, was killing him from the punch he took two nights before.

“No, nothing immediately, but something’s not right. Thanks.”

Something Wasn’t Right.

Detective. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t a detective. He wasn’t even a cop anymore. A Private Investigator is what he was now. A PI. A dick. A shamus. Or that bullshit modern term he hated, an Inquiry Agent. Bogie as Sam Spade made it look romantic. In reality, the job was anything but romantic. In reality, all it did for him was pay the mortgage, and it didn’t do a particularly good job at that.

He left the hospital, climbed into his F250 and drove away. The F250, much like its owner, had seen better days. It was rusty and dented, but the engine still worked fine. Actually, better than fine. The truck was from 2002, the last full year Ford put the 7.3 liter V8 diesel engine in the 250 and people were constantly trying to buy it from him. At least no one had tried to steal it. As he left the parking lot, he drove the speed limit. There was lots to think about and he was in no particular hurry to get anywhere.

It was late afternoon by the time he reached home. He pulled out the Elijah Craig, poured himself a small glass and grabbed a Gispert. In the old days, he drank Blanton’s, but ever since bourbon had become a “thing” Blanton’s was impossible to find. Nowadays, all the idiot bourbon collectors bought it up as soon as it hit the shelves and drove the price to stupid levels. That’s OK, he thought. Me and Mr. Craig get along just fine. Eventually bourbon as a fad will fade, and we can all go back to normal. He took a sip and walked towards the door.

Out on the back porch, he took another sip and then lit the Gispert. He only smoked a cigar every couple of weeks, and like the Elijah Craig, the Gispert was decent. If you were going to smoke only an occasional cigar, why overpay for the privilege?

No, something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t figure it out. If he hadn’t taken the punch in the bar parking lot two nights ago, he would have agreed Eve’s death was indeed accidental, as the Medical Examiner had decreed. Still, the punch and something about Eve today made him think otherwise. What the hell was different about Eve?

His glass was empty, but half the cigar was still left, so he poured himself another inch and a half of bourbon. This was going to take some time.

He turned it over in his mind. Eve was laying there on the slab, looking pretty as always, but something was off. Her jewelry was missing, but that was to be expected. He started drifting off to sleep and as a dream began, the answer popped into his brain.

…

His phone rang and brought him out of the light sleep. With that, the answer to Eve’s appearance disappeared like morning mist on a hot day. He looked at the number and answered. “Hello?”

“Mr. Sullivan?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Robert Samual Sullivan?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Sullivan, this is Amy with Doctor Frank’s office. I just wanted you to know your test results came in and are positive. I’m so sorry. We’ll definitely need to schedule the procedure soon.”

He didn’t say anything. Of course it came back positive. Only a fool, or someone with regular good luck would expect anything else.

“Mr. Sullivan. Mr Sullivan, are you there?”

“Yea. I’m here. Thanks.” He hung up the phone and went into the kitchen for a drink of water.

A voice called out from the bedroom. “Bob, who was on the phone? Is everything OK?” He shuffled into the bedroom and looked at Holly, his wife. She hadn’t been able to leave the bed under her own power since the accident. He couldn’t tell her. Or at least he couldn’t tell her right now. “Nobody. It was DirectTV trying to sell us expanded service.” Holly’s caregiver, Millie, looked at him with dead eyes but he just stared back until she looked away.

He turned around and walked to the couch where he lay down and tried to go back to sleep. No, he was no detective, and he wasn’t much of a PI. He was just one more semi-retired guy, running out of rope. He hadn’t really smoked in a decade, and under doctors orders, had mostly quit drinking the year before, but it didn’t make a difference. His condition had worsened. He’d have to deal with it at some point, just as he would have to tell Holly everything at some point. What a nightmare it had all become. Thirty years together and this is what it had all come to.

The place he mostly smoked or drank now was in his dreams. Maybe if he got back to sleep quick enough, the dream would start up again and Detective Sam Sullivan could help solve the problem of Eve’s death, while having a bourbon or two. Anything was better than dealing with the problems of real life in the real world. Anything.

Addendum:

  • This is the first time I’ve written any fiction for the blog (or at all for that matter). My old friend James Sullivan posted a closeup picture of his eyes and I was enthralled by it. I asked him if I could use it for the basis of a story. He readily agreed. At the time I had no idea what the story would be about, and then after a couple of days, this one popped into my brain. Weirdly, it was all inspired by the eyes.
  • James and I worked together years ago at a company called SRA. He’s an Army Veteran, a great chef, works in IT and is a smart and generous person. Other than his eyes, he has nothing in common with Robert Samual Sullivan (that I am currently aware of 🙂 ). Thanks so much for use of the photo James!
James Sullivan – Owner of the Eyes
  • This “short” short story may stop here, or I may continue it. If you have any thoughts either way, leave a comment here, or shoot me an email at: mnhall@gmail.com . If even mildly interested in learning more about Robert, Holly and Eve, let me know. If I were to continue the story, it might happen with an occasional blog, or I may try a different route.

The little c

The little c

The surgery went well. As far as cancers go, squamous cell carcinoma (a type of skin cancer) is usually pretty minor, but it was still good to have the surgery over and done with. Cancer is one of those words that draws your attention, or at least it draws my attention.

It all started late last winter when I noticed a scaly spot on my forehead. I didn’t think much about it at first. Due to my AFIB, I take Eliquis, a blood thinner. One of the results of blood thinners is scrapes, cuts and wounds sometimes heal a bit weirdly. The blood doesn’t clot quite the same way it does for a normal person and as a result, minor scrapes or cuts can take a while to heal. That’s what I thought was going on with this scrape.

Unfortunately, it didn’t disappear and I mentioned it to Cathy. She looked and recommended I consult a doctor, so I called the Warrenton Dermatology and Skin Therapy Center at the end of April. They were a bit backed up and scheduled an appointment for me on May 9th.

On May 9th, I arrived at the Center and explained why I was there. They examined the spot and thought it looked OK, but there was something right next to the spot that concerned them. After numbing my forehead, they took a biopsy and told me the results would be back in ten days to two weeks and they would call me.

10 days came and went, then 11, then 12, then 13 days and still no word. Finally on Day 14 I called them. The results had just arrived, but hadn’t yet been reviewed by a doctor. And… They couldn’t release the results until a doctor reviewed them.

The next day, May 23d, I received a call from Danielle at the center. The biopsy came back positive for squamous cell carcinoma. What? What did you say? Squamous Cell Carcinoma.

A Diagnosis of Squamous Cell Carcinoma

Danelle continued to speak, and after a few seconds, I started listening again. They recommended the removal of the cancer with Mohs Surgery. They could do it there, or if I wanted to go with another dermatologist, I could. Another dermatologist? Until two weeks ago, I didn’t know any dermatologists… I told them their office was fine. After consulting calendars, the first available date was Saturday, June 3rd – 8AM and 12 noon were available. Was there nothing in between? Well, no, Danelle informed me – the surgery could take one to four hours, I should wear comfortable clothes, and bring something to read or pass the time.

What!?!

It turns out the surgery, while relatively simple, can take some time. Here’s how Mohs surgery works (according to the Mayo Clinic):

You are given a local anesthetic. After the anesthetic takes effect, the surgeon uses a scalpel to remove the visible portion of the cancer. The surgeon also takes a thin layer of tissue underneath and around the cancer. A temporary bandage is placed where the skin was removed. This takes only a few minutes.

The tissue is then taken to the lab for analysis. This part of the procedure usually takes the longest time and you'll wait about an hour in a waiting room.

In the lab, the surgeon cuts the tissue sample into sections and looks at them with a microscope. If there is more cancer, your Mohs surgery continues. 

The surgeon removes an additional layer of tissue from the affected area. Again, you'll wait while the surgeon looks at the tissue in the lab.

This process continues until the last tissue sample removed is cancer-free. During the procedure, you may receive another shot of local anesthetic if necessary.

I chose the 8AM slot and the appointment was in the book. Of course after that, I did more research, and came to realize I was pretty lucky.

According to the Mayo Clinic, there are three major types of skin cancer – basal cell carcinoma, squamous cell carcinoma and melanoma. While squamous cell is considered relatively “mild”, if left untreated it can destroy nearby healthy tissue, spread to the lymph nodes or other organs, and may be fatal, although this is uncommon.

I also learned skin cancers are caused by many things, but most often are the result of overexposure to the sun. I guess my days of lifeguarding back in the early ‘70s may have had something to do with it. Not only did we not use any type of sunscreen, we used baby oil to tan more quickly. Whoops.

Time passed and I spoke with others. It turns out I’m actually a bit late to the skin cancer party. I learned numerous friends and acquaintances around my age have developed skin cancer. Many had the Mohs procedure, and all said it wasn’t a big deal.

On the 2nd of June, I made a big steak dinner with a salad. I mean, what the hell, if you are having a cancerous growth removed, it seemed a reasonable thing to do. A couple of glasses of wine, and a couple of hours of bad TV later, I went to bed and slept like a rock.

The next morning, after having some coffee and a small breakfast, I drove to the Center in Warrenton. On the way there, Taj Mahal and Keb’ Mo’ were singing “Waiting on the World to Change” on the radio and while I’m not sure why, it seemed to fit somehow.

I arrived at the center just before 8AM that Saturday. Doctor Dolan and his assistant, Amanda started their work just after 8:00. After Amanda put about 5 shots in my forehead to numb it, the Doctor came in. He was retired Navy, which for some strange reason gave me comfort. By 8:20, DR Dolan had taken the first cuttings and Amanda was cauterizing the one-inch wound. I recognized that peculiar smell of burning flesh from a previous surgery, but didn’t feel anything, as the anesthetic was still doing its job. Amanda escorted me to the waiting room where I did some reading while waiting for the results.

Thirty minutes later, Amanda came and gave me the good news. I was clear after the first pass. She said I was probably the easiest and shortest surgery the doctor would have all day. We went back to one of the rooms where the good doctor stitched me up. Seven or eight stitches I think but if you look at the picture, they’re big stitches. That’s fine with me. Just a little more character added to my forehead, and vitamin E should make it disappear over the course of the next year.

Mohs Surgery in Four Easy Steps.

There was a headache for a day or two, and a slight black eye in my future, but that was alright. Things were OK, at least for now.

In 1964, actor John Wayne was diagnosed with lung cancer. Some people recommended he hide the diagnosis due to concerns about his image – they thought it might make him look weak. At the time, many public figures hid illnesses they had for image reasons. He chose the opposite path. During a press conference after the surgery the Duke said “They told me to withhold my cancer operation from the public because it would hurt my image. Isn’t there a good image in John Wayne beating cancer? Sure, I licked the Big C.”

Squamous Cell Carcinoma isn’t the “Big C”. We have friends and family who are dealing with, or have dealt with breast cancer, lung cancer, pancreatic cancer, brain cancer, prostate cancer, melanomas… there’s a lot of bad stuff falling into the “Big C” category. I know I’m quite lucky and this is fairly minor, so let’s just call it the “little c”.

One of the things for people to remember is that any cancer, even something relatively minor like my “little c” squamous cell carcinoma can kill you if left untreated. If you see something that doesn’t quite look right on your skin, have it checked out. If everything is fine, all you did was lose an hour of time. And if it turns out to be a cancer of some sort, you did the right thing and can have it treated.

No need to be macho. No need to be stoic. Just get the damned thing checked out.

Really. Just Get the Damned Thing Checked Out.
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Addendum:

– If you live in the Warrenton/western DC suburbs area, I highly recommend the Warrenton Dermatology and Skin Therapy Center. They are great, and take care of you. You can find more about them here: https://www.warrentondermatology.com/

June 14, A Big Day Every Year

June 14, A Big Day Every Year

As my friend and West Point Classmate Bill Moeller noted, it is perhaps no coincidence that the Birthday of the United States Army, Flag Day and National Bourbon Day are all celebrated each year on the same Date: June 14th. It turns out all three of their stories go back to the late 1700s.

I’ve always thought that understanding our nation’s history was important. When I learned June 14th was shared by the Army, our Flag, and Bourbon, it seemed worth doing some historical digging. Here’s what I learned.

Before there was an American Flag, before there was American Bourbon, the United States Army was around to protect both.

One year prior to declaring our independence from Great Britain, the Continental Congress approved the formation of the Army on 14 June 1775. On that date, they authorized the enlistment of ten companies of riflemen to serve the United Colonies for one year to form the “the American Continental Army.” The next day, Congress issued its first commission by appointing George Washington “General and Commander in chief of the Army of the United Colonies, and of all the forces now raised, or to be raised by them, and of all others who shall voluntarily offer their services, and join the Defense of American liberty, and for repelling every hostile invasion…”

Washington Crossing the Delaware with the Continental Army in December 1776.

While there are some questions about whether Betsy Ross actually sewed the first American flag, there is no doubt about when Congress recognized our first flag. On June 14, 1777, two years after the formation of the Army, Congress passed the Flag Resolution, which stated, “Resolved: that the flag of the United States be made of thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new Constellation.” In 1916, President Woodrow Wilson issued a proclamation that officially established June 14 as Flag Day and on August 3, 1949, National Flag Day was established by an Act of Congress.

A New Constellation.

The story of National Bourbon Day is, not surprisingly, a bit murkier. One legend has it that bourbon was first produced by Reverend Elijah Craig on June 14th, 1789. In the late 1780s, Craig was allegedly using old fish barrels to store his spirits. Of course, the fish-flavored wood did not help the taste at all, so Craig started conditioning the barrels by charring the inside. He then stamped the barrels with their county of origin (Bourbon County in what was then Virginia and is now Kentucky) and sent them on a 90-day trip to New Orleans. The charred oak and three-month travel time combined to mellow the whiskey some and folks in New Orleanians requested more of “that whiskey from Bourbon.” Yes, I agree the story, or at least the date of June 14th sounds a bit fishy (pun intended), but who am I to judge? There are enough other competing stories that all trace the origin of “bourbon” to the 1780s and make that time period a credible time of origination. As a side note, in 1964, the United States Congress recognized bourbon as a “distinctive product of the United States of America”.

Bourbon Anyone?

So, there you have it, a bit of distinctly American history. As an Army Vet, I know what I’ll be doing on June 14th. I’ll raise a glass of bourbon in a salute to both our Flag, and all of the Army Veterans who have served our country over the years. I hope you will join me. It seems to me the least we can do.

Cheers to All on June 14th From This Veteran…

Addendum:

– For the record, the United States Army is the senior service. The Continental Navy was established on 13 October 1775, and The Continental Marines on 10 November 1775. The Coast Guard traces it’s beginnings to 4 August 1790. The Air Force was established as an independent service on 18 September 1947, and the Space Force (ughhh) was established on 20 December 2019.

– National Bourbon Day – I searched to find out when the first National Bourbon Day occurred, but could find nothing online.

– Here are a couple of other historical facts about bourbon itself:

  • The Elijah Craig story is a nice one, but there’s no historical proof of it. There were certainly others who were shipping whiskey in barrels in the 1780s.
  • The Marker’s Mark distillery, which opened in 1805, is the oldest distillery in the country, and has been declared a National Historic Landmark.
  • In 1834 Doctor James Crow perfected the sour mash process and made what was probably the first “modern” bourbon. He employed the “Sour Mash Method” on a daily basis to give his whiskey consistency.
  • In 1840, “Bourbon”, by name, was first advertised in a newspaper.
  • In 1840 bourbon whiskey officially became known as bourbon. Before then, the product carried the name Bourbon County Whiskey or Old Bourbon County Whiskey.
  • In 1870 Old Forester became “America’s First Bottled Bourbon” when founder George Brown was the first to put Bourbon in a glass bottle. Prior to that, it was only available in barrels.