Susan's Scribblings the Blog

A writer from the Philadelphia area shares the week online.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog
  • Who the Heck is Kayewer?
  • Monthly Archives: July 2025

    • Call It a Disease

      Posted at 9:22 pm by kayewer, on July 26, 2025

      I don’t know how many people have noticed this, but in the past few decades, we have learned the names of countless medical conditions by virtue of online, broadcast and print media. As a little girl growing up in the last half of the 20th Century, I wasn’t bombarded with terms such as tardive dyskinesia, peyronie’s disease, ADHD, wet macular degeneration, thyroid eye disease or rheumatoid arthritis. Advertisements on commercials use pleasant scenes of folks supposedly cured or persons with such ailments whose symptoms are under control, all the while bringing up the side effects and warnings that come with treatment (often headache, diarrhea or abdominal pain). Some even set their ads to happy musical tunes, such as a popular clip about “lowering my A1C” with a diabetic medication.

      One of the biggest causes of common conditions among Americans today is obesity. An estimated 41.9% of adults are considered in an unhealthy overweight condition, according to a Forbes Health article with data gathered by the CDC. Being overweight places stress on the body and leads to other conditions such as bone and joint problems, diabetes, kidney and heart disease, and a shortened lifespan.

      However, obesity has not been classified as an actual disease. It is treated instead as a human frailty which brings on unwanted results, similar to drinking or using tobacco. However, people must eat, and it seems that the foods we are consuming in the US are more processed than ever before, likely because the more unreal ingredients there are in the foods, the more profits can be made for those endowed with golden parachute incentives.

      In the past I’ve brought up the discovery of chlormequat, a chemical introduced into wheat and oat plants to make the sheafs stand up taller for the machinery to cut it better; American cereal companies are allowed to import grains from other places where the chemical is used, though it’s banned in food products here. It has been found to have potential side effects because it interacts with human cells, and rats have experienced health issues when tested.

      Sugar, both natural and artificial, seems to be our common enemy, yet it is being sneaked into our food because it makes things taste better. Supposedly. The truth is that sugar can act as a “feel good” dopamine trigger and encourage overindulging in what is not good for us. That last bag of chips you opened and finished in an hour is one such example, and the ketchup and salad dressing you generously heaped onto your salad plate are two more. Check the ingredient panel, and don’t be surprised to find sugar there. The rule is: the closer to the beginning of the ingredient list sugar appears, the more of it there is in the serving.

      But back to obesity being called a disease. Our forefathers and ancestors were not all perfectly sized, either. Ben Franklin has been portrayed as somewhat broad in the body, and ancient figures such as Bacchus have been cartooned as rotund overeaters. Older woman have often been prone to becoming more pillowy in the middle as they age, but the problem has been trickling down to much younger persons, and from all types of backgrounds.

      The argument that obesity does not warrant aggressive treatment with medications or surgery unless other conditions such as diabetes are present, is cheating patients out of a chance to regain their best physical selves. The sympathetic side of the argument indicates that often obese people are not at fault for their condition, but have become subject to their ancestry, genetics, environment, and a medical community that doesn’t seem equipped to care much about the problem. Follow any severely obese person in the media, and you may see somebody who orders a lot of takeout or prefers chips over carrots, but there is also the financial side of things. Some people are not within ten miles of a simple supermarket with affordable produce and healthier choices; their closest food source may be at best a takeout joint or bodega, and at worst the nearest quick mart.

      Vegetables are too often consigned to landfills instead of being made available to people who could cook and serve them at the dinner table. We waste an estimated 60 million tons of food each year, according to the FDA, about 325 pounds of unused food per person.

      There is a cause and solution to the problem of obesity. Starting by classifying it as a disease may start treatments for people who need help, but pinpointing the cause of the surge in fat in America is another one our medical community may be loath to explore. It’s better to sing about the treatments than to not need a songwriter in the first place.

      Excuse me while I have my tea. Black, no sugar.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged diet, health, nutrition, obesity, weight-loss
    • An Affair to Forget

      Posted at 8:31 pm by kayewer, on July 19, 2025

      Excuse my jumping on a temporarily popular bandwagon, but a meme which has appeared within the past few days has much to be unpacked beyond the obvious. That’s part of what I do here.

      The incident in question involves a corporate CEO and another employee in a high-ranking position, namely Andy Byron, the head of a tech company called Astronomer, and the company’s Human Resources officer named Kristin Cabot. During a concert by the band Coldplay in Massachusetts, the couple were picked up by camera crews looking to share the audience’s experiences on the Gillette Stadium’s huge (22,000 square feet) jumbotron screen. It’s their job to find happy pairs enjoying what the stadium is offering, whether it’s a New England Patriots game or Chris Martin singing up a storm in live performance.

      It appears that Byron has been married for an estimated decade (exact figures were sketchy at this time) to Megan Kerrigan Byron, who has since taken her married name off her social media tag and left Instagram. Not a good sign. As for Ms. Cabot, married to Andrew of Privateer Rum (a distillery founded some 200-years ago), she and her spouse of about two years are rumored to have bought a house five months ago.

      The depth of the pair’s relationship is still speculative, but one can only guess at how long these supposedly dedicated spouses were picking up spare change romantic feels with their respective sidepieces (excuse the terminology). This didn’t just happen overnight.

      The fact that these two planned the concert outing, lied to their spouses about where they would be, went there and publicly showed affection indicates they did not feel there would be consequences. At least not until a camera technician trained their equipment on them in a clutch under the assumption that they were a typical pair of Coldplay fans.

      The results were a disaster. Fortunately it doesn’t appear that the concert was a multi-person event. The Astronomer company has said that no other employees were around the pair when the footage appeared, though a woman to their right seemed equally embarrassed to have been caught on camera. Perhaps she called out sick that afternoon from wherever she worked. The company placed Byron on leave while an investigation began (Cabot’s status was not revealed).

      In a work environment in which corporate compliance, along with the requirements that come with it, stress professionalism and decorum in all work and interpersonal relationships, this may well be a terminal knell for Byron at the very least, and Cabot may well follow. Of what value would enforcement of accountability be if both parties were not held to task for what they did?

      The most recent piece of news is that Byron has resigned his position.

      The camera zoomed in on the pair in a comfortable, forward-facing embrace, with Byron cuddling Cabot until they recognized themselves and broke contact. He ducked out of sight as she turned her reddening face away, and the third person to their right put a hand in front of her temple as if to block out what she suddenly realized was an awkward moment. Chris Martin ad-libbed, “Either they’re having an affair, or they’re just very shy.” Sounds like the former, Chris.

      What happened afterward may set a record to surpass the “wardrobe malfunction” moment for Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson in terms of visually altered spoof clips featuring every possible odd couple in pop culture being caught embracing the wrong partner. One compared the clip to a scary moment in the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Even one of pro baseball’s mascots, the Philly Phanatic, got in on the trend with a green furry, blond-wigged partner for laughs.

      What the past 72 hours have done, however, is much more than simply offering up an example of humans making horrible mistakes in public. Two marriages will suffer, as will the in-laws and other friends and relatives on both sides. The companies’ staff members will need to handle the fallout from a poor example set by people who are supposed to set a quality example.

      It is never wise to think that a private affair stays that way in public. It was a devastating lesson for two people who should have known better, and a cautionary tale for those who might be considering such an adventure.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged ceo, coldplay, jumbotron, news, reviews
    • Scraping By

      Posted at 3:04 pm by kayewer, on July 12, 2025

      I have been pulling up some old carpeting in a bedroom, and it’s the slowest and most painful task I have ever undertaken. It wouldn’t be such a tough process if the flooring had received more attention in the past, but sometimes a situation makes it impossible to do, and this was the case here. My parents laid the carpet themselves from a large remnant, a long time ago. The carpet itself is a no-pile teal colorway with rubber backing.

      Well, at least in the beginning it had rubber backing. Time disintegrated it into a combination of brittle mats and dust, all of which I will need to pick up. Some of it is stuck to the hardwood floor and needs scraping. This means that the old lady needs to go on hands and knees and deal with the flooring, foot by foot. Along with a sturdy pair of carpet shears, my dustpan and brush, a trash bag and sheer force of will, I have made progress, but age and the summer heat are battling me.

      Also, my parents’ and my old clothes found their way into this room over the years, and now I need to work my way around piles of things which should have been discarded ten diets ago.

      My social media feed is filled with self-help posts posing questions such as “how are clutter and trauma related?” I can tell you; when your family dynamic changes, such as when somebody passes or moves away, all of the things don’t always follow them. Some of the old clothes will fit me now, but I’ve moved on to other garments. This will mean bagging them up and arranging for pick-up to free the space I need to continue handling the carpet. The next phase will involve moving the entire bed to get the carpeting underneath. More scraping and cleaning.

      In the process of bagging the old clothes, the memories of their time decorating my body will come to mind. The years I wore gowns like prairie folk, and those I wore pajamas looking like Katherine Hepburn. The move from polyester to denim, nylon to cotton, bright to muted colors, and size large to. . . .well, you get the picture. And so the trauma continues.

      Decluttering and changing a living space can be a cleansing ritual, but modern décor gurus seem to want us to aim for a minimalist surrounding, with little on the flat surfaces and walls devoid of much identity. I already broke some unwritten rule by buying a tufted headboard for the new queen bed in the room. I like the look and, if I were to be graded, would gladly take the zero. It is neutral in color and offers something soft to sit up in bed upon. What more could one want in a bedroom?

      So my plan for the next phase of cleaning is to place old summer clothes in one bag, and old winter clothes in the other, and make a phone call for a charity to pick up the bags and remove them forever. Somebody should enjoy the items, as the clothes succumbed to outsizing or boredom after years of use, rather than actual wear and tear.

      Which brings to mind another kind of trauma; being told in social media that most donated clothes wind up in a landfill. That’s a guilt trip nobody wants to burden themselves with. I do, however, also have a back-up plan involving a set of bags in which I can donate clothes which are guaranteed to be repurposed instead of going to a cloth mountain in some forsaken back corner of the world, and in return I will earn points for shopping online.

      I promise to not shop for more clothes with those points. I have enough to wear for now, and it’s time to say goodbye to the past.

      After I scrape one more foot of that carpet backing away.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged carpet-removal, clothing-donation, clutter
    • Fly That Flag

      Posted at 3:16 pm by kayewer, on July 5, 2025

      The subject of patriotism has been a bit unpredictable lately in this country. One only needs to check out the news articles about retail boycotts, cancel culture, or even the latest new concept originating from the nation’s capital to see that life as an American is confusing at the best of times.

      I had to give serious thought to what I was doing when considering putting the flag up outside my home. It’s just the standard stars and stripes rendition, though I do have an altered red white and blue version containing supportive messaging which I have not displayed since election day.

      The neighborhood I grew up in is not the type to experience negative expressions of opinion–thank goodness–but we already have a block culture which is subtle yet irascible when violated. One example is trash collection, for which the ritual is begun the evening before with the traditional receptacle parade to the curb. The first person to begin the task is met with subconscious annoyance, because others on the block feel compelled to immediately stop whatever they are doing to set their trash out as well. Anybody who holds their waste without putting it to the curb within a designated time frame is considered, well, trashy. Whether the evening plans to be cold, hot or drenching from rainy acts of God, that trash must be on display overnight or else.

      Naturally, the reverse occurs once the collections are completed, which is unpredictable since we get a trash truck, a recycling truck and possibly a yard waste collection. Whichever comes first, the cans are either placed respectfully back on the curb or unceremoniously slid within close proximity to the property, possibly landing on their sides in the driveways. These, of course, need to be cleared from the front as soon as humanly possible, because those who leave their cans out are also trashy. It’s an unwritten law, and it’s understood.

      It’s also an unwritten law that one should adhere to the current collective feelings of the rest of the block, which is what comes to flag displaying. Those who are away for the holiday are exempt, but the rest of us must judiciously decide what to display while respecting the rest of the residents. We don’t even have an HOA; it’s an unwritten law and understood.

      I decided to put my flag out, because I feel that my country is the sum of the good and bad in it, not just a matter of political climate or financial conditions. The block seemed to mirror my sentiments in the past, so I didn’t have reason to doubt it was a good decision.

      However, I had one issue blocking my successful displaying of the flag. A while ago I had the siding replaced on the house, and with it came new fascia and decorative finishing touches. The installers apparently did not have a lot of experience with flag pole mounts, because they put mine back upside down. This was the time, I figured, to right that wrong. So with trusty screwdriver in hand, I went out and struggled with four rusty Phillips head screws to remove them and the bracket (which itself shows its age with chipping paint, but that’s for me to handle some other time).

      The screws were dreadfully discolored, so I ventured to my late father’s tool haven–untouched for ages since he passed away–and miraculously found four replacement screws with standard screw heads on the first try. It was as if Dad were guiding my hands from beyond. In minutes, with some elbow grease, a different screwdriver and determination, I remounted the bracket in the correct position, and on the Fourth I proudly displayed my flag from the moment I got up until sundown.

      That’s actually a written law, so it’s definitely understood.

      My next task will be to replace the old one with a more sturdy version less likely to succumb to the elements. That will mean unscrewing the bracket again (possibly) to take with me to the hardware store. I have confidence, though, that I can handle this task. And take out trash on schedule.

      Meanwhile, in nearby Philadelphia, the trash pickup is postponed due to a strike, so dumpsters are overflowing with bags of refuse everywhere you turn. On Philly’s most tourism-related holiday. In summer. That is something to cause everybody to react with disdain.

      Perhaps they should keep the trash at home for now. Everybody would understand.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged humor, politics, trash-collection, writing
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