The SoapBoxers

I have always been afraid of being in a hospital.  I cannot explain why, but my wife has a theory.  I was born two months premature.  I had to stay in the hospital for three months to get back to my birth weight just so that I would be strong enough for the surgeries that I needed.  I was born with a half clef palate.  My wife believes that my fears are based on those earliest memories.  I can see no reason that she is wrong.

I don’t even like visiting hospitals.  It took all of my courage to stay with my wife when my children were born.  I had not been over night in the hospital except to visit others until last fall.  Sure, I had had several medical procedures including wisdom teeth removal, vasectomy and radial keratotomy, but all of these were out patient procedures performed at a doctor’s office.  This last September I had to go.

I woke up around midnight with heart burn, or so I thought.  By two in the morning, I could no longer lay down.  When my wife woke up at three and saw me sitting in a chair in pain she asked what was wrong.  When I told her that I did not know, she asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital and I said yes.  She moved very quickly, since she knew my fears.

The drive was only twenty minutes, but I begged her to go to the closest hospital.  This is rather funny as in my home town there are only two hospitals and they are on five blocks apart.  You can literally see each one from the other.  Since I am a 45 year old man, the emergency room nurse immediately hooked me up to see if I was having a heart attack.  As I sat there, the pain began to subside.  I notice this as my feet slowly settled down to the floor.  I had been sitting hunched over so tense that my heals were off of the floor.

After verifying that it was not my heart, they wheeled me back to hook up even more machines.  The attending doctor instructed the intern and left.  The intern probed, pushed, and questioned.  He got an ultra-sound set up to look at my internal organs.  By now, I was feeling much better, but I could still tell that something was wrong.  The attending doctor picked on the intern when he couldn’t find all of my organs.  I was sent off to a specialist.  That specialist found that my liver and my pancreas were enlarged.  So, I was spending the night.  They had no specific cause for this inflammation, so we wait and monitor.  I was officially checked in at 8:00 a.m.

I spent a very nice day talking with nurses, having my kids and wife visit, and eating Jello.  They wanted me for a full twenty four hours, so the next night I was still in the hospital.  I wanted to go home in the worst way.  I listened to the people in the nearby rooms.  I was allowed to wander around, so I got to see other families.  There was one older man whose only movement was to be moved into an almost sitting position in the morning, then back down at night.  There was an older lady whose cough sounded like she was choking.  Other than them, the rooms were closed, most empty, but some with people who really had problems.

I watched as much TV as I could stand, and finally tried to sleep.  If you have ever been in a hospital, there is one thing you never get; privacy.  I was awakened every couple of hours as the nurse checked on all of the patients.  She checked all of the instruments and was nice each time.  At about three in the morning, it started again.  I am an engineer, so I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and started detailing my sensations with time tags.  I held off pushing the button to get the nurse for as long as possible.  I was afraid that they would keep me another night.  I stood up and walked around to ease the pain, but finally, I had to call for help. 

The nurse took about ten minutes to get to me, she had much sicker patients to care for.  By the time she got to my room, the pain had begun to subside, just like the previous morning.  The nurse laughed when she saw my notes.  When the doctor arrived at five, he actually liked the write up.  He looked it over along with all of the test results from my twenty four hours.

The conclusion was that I had pancreatitis from passing a single gall stone.  The second flair was an aftershock, my body reacting to the major event similar to an aftershock from an earthquake.  I went home with no ill effects. 

So, I survived a whole day in the hospital.  I was so relieved to be leaving that I almost sang on the way out.  I never want to go back.  Am I still afraid?  Yes.  Why?  I still don’t know.

I am a grown man, educated and some what experienced.  I have unreasonable fears, just like everyone else in the world.  I have no basis to fear the hospital and I really appreciate all of the people who cared for me, so I do not want to get any health care people mad at me.  Over the years I have found it hard to criticize people with phobias, I have my own after all.  I can only hope for the same treatment from others as I deal with my fears.

Decisions come in many shapes and sizes.  There are young people deciding what college to go to; a huge decision for them affecting the rest of their lives.  Middle aged couples deciding on the color to paint a room; maybe not so important.  There is a desperate man searching for answers that could lead him to crime; a culmination of choices or consequences of uncontrollable events.  Someone has decided to give blood just because the secretary suggested it; a flippant decision with huge effect on the community.

As we each approach decisions, we evaluate the importance and effects on ourselves, and sometime the importance and effect on those around us.  We sometime consciously decide to help after a catastrophe, be it a flood, a tornado, or the untimely death.  At other times we are consumed with everyday questions from taking the risk of accelerating through a yellow light to the choice between Coke and Pepsi.

Each decision is a balance of risk and reward.  All of us are at sometime overcome by the rewards of the equation and this sometimes results in bad decisions and sometime in dramatic accomplishments.  Sometime we just completely underestimate the risk we take because we think the situation is something we have dealt with before.  Sometimes the risks are so minimal that we do not even notice when we make a bad choice.

Over time I think we have faced all of the scenarios that I have listed.  The affects have been large and small.  There are always consequences.  We can all look back on our lives and remember the bad decisions we have made, and the spectacularly good ones, but most of the mundane ones have been forgotten or become habit.

I have recently taken an account of my past decisions.  In ways this is for self improvement in the future, and in others it is to assist my children as they mature to adulthood.  My oldest son is already in college and my daughter is heading out this fall.  They will be attending the same college, which is a good decision financially.  I just hope that it is a good choice for each of their chosen fields.

I am also considering other peoples decisions.  This weekend, I helped in what could have been described as a good old fashioned barn raising.  Upwards of fifty people showed up over an eight hour period to completely landscape and clean up a house for a graduation party.  The reason was not just a response to a request for help.  The man of the house had fallen off a ladder several weeks ago while taking down Christmas lights.  He broke his neck in the fall and died twelve hours later.  His oldest daughter is graduating from high school in less than a month.  The crowd of people represented everyone who had worked with the man and his wife, friends and relatives.

Just looking at that series of decisions is spectacular.  The man decided to risk reaching too far with disastrous results.  The family decided to continue on with a graduation party to heal and live.  The community decided to help and each of us feels great for just helping.  And all of this is somehow humbling in a way that I can not describe.

Let’s talk about the NFL Draft

It is the beginning of the Baseball season, the first round of both the Basketball and Hockey Playoffs, the sun is shining and yet the headlines are about the NFL. The NFL holds the draft in April each year. Why? Well there are lots of contractual reasons, and some logistical reasons, but mainly it is to keep so that the teams can get the newest players signed to contracts and into summer training. Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban thinks that it is a strategic ploy to take viewing audience away from the NBA, I think not. People who actually watch the NFL draft are not interested in the first round of the NBA playoffs. The NFL has been holding the draft in April since long before anyone thought of broadcasting it, live or tape delayed. It has move to prime time because there is an audience, not the other way around.

I will admit that I did not watch the entire draft. I checked in from time to time, but like most sports enthusiast, I could get everything I wanted to know from the newspaper or the web the next morning. Oh, I had interests; like who was my team going to draft? What about the other teams in my division? How did the players from my college fare? What about the nationally known players?

Now there are plenty of people in broadcast, and many more on various blogs who will discuss how the draft went. They will pontificate on what team did well, why some player was not drafted as they predicted, what the affects will be on each team. Since we cannot know how well any individual will perform at the professional level based on potential, I will leave that analysis for those people who get a great deal of enjoyment and possibly some pay for doing so. Instead, I intend on commenting on the coverage of the NFL draft in general.

First, I want to applaud the staff at ESPN. There were experts on who talked literally for three days straight. The support staff found video of every player and had statistics ready almost instantly. Now the talking heads did ramble from time to time, and contradict themselves, but that is part of the process when broadcasting live. If the who thing were predictable, there would be no point in having it. Like the old sports adage, if we knew who would win the game, why bother playing it.

I do have a complaint. As I watched, I could see what each team was doing by following the ticker tape along the bottom of the screen. At times, I even put the TV on mute, or listened to music when I was at the gym and could have tuned in the audio but chose not to. The announcers discussed picks from several minutes (up to an half an hour) earlier. This was mainly to give the support staff time to dig up video clips and stats, but it also revealed a bias in the reporting. Not only did they spend an inordinate amount of time analyzing and discussing the picks of the two teams from New York City, they would break away for the live announcements for those two teams, and those two teams alone.

This falls into the “it is the largest market” argument, but we must realize that these are the home teams for most of the media outlets, ESPN included. To do this consistently may be good business for that 10% of the national market, but it does not seen very smart for the rest of the country, especially if you are catering to the nation. If you want to be a regional broadcaster, than do so and let other regions do their own thing. ESPN seems to be moving to that regional model for the big markets like Dallas, Los Angeles and Chicago. This is actually sad to me. I live in the middle of the country, equidistant from Chicago, Minneapolis, Green Bay, St. Louis and Kansas City. Unfortunately, the team I follow is not from any of those cities, so if ESPN does go regional, I will miss out completely.

So the summary of my rambling today is – although the NFL draft is not riveting TV, and it is New York City centric, I like how ESPN has covered it and I hope there are no major changes in the near future.

Deadlines can be exceptionally useful, and frustrating.  Useful in that they give you a goal, something to aim for.  Without deadlines, many tasks simply would not get done.  Frustrating in that if you allow you deadline to creep up on you, your effort may not be of the highest caliber.

I establish a deadline for my Ramblings of Friday of each week.  I have not met that deadline for several weeks.  Instead, I am pounding away at the keys late Sunday night as my wife sleeps, hoping to put out something coherent for Kosmo before he heads to work on Monday morning.  I believe I have been successful, but also believe that my best work has been when I am inspired and complete my efforts at a more casual pace.  Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy participating in The Soap Boxers.  I have to be more organized to maintain a writing program to meet my commitments.

I found that deadlines really helped when I participated in the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo.org) last November.  Simply setting numbers of words or chapters helped because it let me know how far ahead or behind I was from my plan.  I succeeded in producing my very first novel.  I am currently working on my second, choosing a completely different genre (the first was a romance, now I am working on a science fiction piece).  This second effort is much harder for two reasons; I have no driving deadline like I did for the first effort, and I have changed jobs which has required significantly more time at the office.

My solution to my writing shortfall is to set deadlines.  Just as in our work situations, deadlines, even if artificial, drive work.  At my work, I have to report on financial progress every week to my direct management.  This effort is to make sure I am ready for a monthly report to a higher level.  Everyone I am talking to already knows what I am going to say, but the constant rehearsal prevents slipping and not being ready for the bigger report.

I am even setting deadlines for chores around the house.  We have to have the vegetable garden planted on Mother’s Day weekend.  Here in Iowa, earlier than that could be a loss of crop due to frost; later, there is not enough time to get some items to maturity.  Now this is an artificial deadline, since we are not good gardeners.  If we get 20 tomatoes out of our 5 plants we get excited.  Whether we do or not, a trip to the farmer’s market at the end of the season gets 20 pounds of tomatoes to freeze and have all winter.

Deadlines for spring cleaning; got the garage done but still working on the basement.  Deadlines for house repair; can’t afford the new windows so starting on wallpaper removal in the formal dining room.  And finally, I am setting deadlines to actually write.  Both for the Casual Observer and for myself.  If you every truly want to be a writer, you are going to have to deal with deadlines.  It is far better to establish them yourself than have them levied against you, they you only have yourself to blame if you miss them.

On a personal note, for any of you who have been following my Ramblings on aging parents the following is a synopsis of the conditions of the people I have referenced.

My father has gotten through his knee surgery just fine and started physical therapy.  He will be using a walker for a while, but should graduate to a cane and hopefully no walking aid within a year.  He will be 80 in October.

My uncle is home from his triply by-pass surgery.  He is 75 and stronger now than he has been in several years.  The surgery has relieved the physical problems.  Sadly my aunt died last year after struggling with Parkinson’s and Emphysema.  No longer having to provide daily care and slowly overcoming his grief has helped his emotional health as well.

My other aunt is still in the hospital after her hip replacement surgery.  She is not doing well.  She is 74 and only retired from working in a box factory two years ago.  Her strength is very low after losing a lot of blood.  Her body seems to be rejecting the titanium bolts that are typically used for this operation.  She can use all of your prayers.

Thank you all for your interest.

Several weeks ago, I published an article about dealing with aging parents. In that article, I discussed treating parents with respect and understanding. In that article, I discussed the limitations that my parents are living with and there plans to move into a smaller home. Thankfully, they have found a location closer to my bother and sister (about 2 miles and 3 blocks respectively).

Now comes the paragraph of frustrations. I am not in a position to help my parents as they prepare to move. I live in another state, just under 1100 miles away. My bother, sister, brother in law, niece and nephew are performing all of the support effort. This lack of participation is frustrating to me, it highlights my feeling a not supporting my parents as they age.

I have made a habit of calling my parents every Sunday night, when I am sure that they have stopped working for the day. It was during these calls that I learned that there are many more problems with aging than I or my parents have had to negotiate. My uncle has recently been hospitalized to have bypass surgery. Next, my aunt had hip replacement surgery. Then the kicker, as I said my parents are planning on moving, and now my father is having knee replacement surgery.

So, what am I doing to deal with this frustration? First, I am offering any help they want from a distance. What they appear to want (remember I have recommended listening and doing what they want) is to stay with me while their new house is being built. This is fine, but does actually put more pressure on my brother. You see, while they are with me, he will be responsible for making sure the house turns out the way they want it. So I am smiling, I get the easier task.

My house is not built for elderly people. There are stairs everywhere. There is a step into the family room, there are steps ate every door out of the house. The laundry is in the basement, the bathtub and shower are on the second floor. There will be some inconveniences. We will convert the dining room into a bed room, to avoid most of those stairs. My mother will have to wait until someone is home to help her get up and down the stairs for her shower, this will fall on my wife or daughter so they can help her get into and out of the shower itself.

With what I have experienced so far, I have learned a lot about what I have to do to prepare for my own old age. My wife and I are already looking at elderly friendly housing as our next home (after all of the kids have moved out). We originally thought we were shopping to care for our parents, but we are actually shopping for ourselves. I have also learned that it is possible to live by the advise I gave in the original article. I am listening to what my parents want. I am tempering my disappointment when they do not take my advice. I am not using my children to get them to do things I want them to do.

Enjoy life and enjoy your time with your loved ones.

Another Easter has come and gone. For Christians, this is an especially important holiday. It is the culmination of all of the teachings of the Christian churches. As a Roman Catholic and as a Boy Scout leader, Easter has significance that many may not know or understand. You may think, what has Boy Scouts got to do with Easter? That is actually the simplest question to answer. Boy Scout troops are under an obligation to assist and participate in sponsoring organization activities. If a troop is sponsored by a VFW , they are expected to assist in the placement of flags on the graves of veterans on Memorial day, Flag day, and Veteran’s day and participate in activities for the various services’ birthdays / anniversaries, Armed Forces Day and Patriot day. The troop which I serve is sponsored by the School attached to my church, a Roman Catholic Church. We support the church carnival, fall clean up, spring spruce up, decorating for holidays and supporting the Easter service.

What is involved in the Easter service at our church is slightly more difficult to explain. In the Catholic Church, any items bless for the use in any or our rites must be disposed of properly. Liquids such as holy water should not be put down the drain to be mixed with common waste, instead it should be spread in a garden or poured on a plant. The Catholic Church as many rites, and many items used to perform those rites. Some of these items are as common as prayer slips (little slips of paper people write names on for private prays) or more specialized like the chrism (anointing oil) which is used for Baptism, anointing of the sick and other activities.

On the Easter Vigil (Saturday night before Easter from sun down to midnight in some parishes), the items that can be burned are consumed in what is called a new fire. This is a fire build not by using a flame from the existing flame (a candle that is kept continuously burning from Easter to the following Easter Vigil, but made from a new fire. The Boy Scout troop at our church is responsible for building that fire and keeping vigil until the Priest burns the left over oil (it is olive oil, so you can’t really keep it more that a year even if it is blessed), the cotton balls used to anoint, the prayer slip and anything else he has to burn.

This fire is quite dramatic. The boys have a good fire going before the Priest arrives, then he throws oil on it! From that fire, a new Easter Candle is lit, an incense coal is started and the parishioners head into the church for three hours of readings, prayer and song. The boys stand by the fire until it has burned down, quench the flames with water and gather the ashes to spread in the forest behind the church on Monday night.

Not all churches have this participation service, but all Catholic Churches dispose of certain items in the flames. Our church does not have a permanent fire pit, the boys construct one in the hours that lead up to the ceremony, and tear it down when they are done. When they leave, there is no evidence a fire was ever there. For the engineers and boy scouts in our audience, this fire pit is built in the following way: 4×4 piece of plywood laid on the ground, 16 paver ties on top of the plywood, 120 paver stones in a stacked circle about 3 feet high, 3-5 gallon buckets of sand poured in as a base. The sand and ashes are gathered in 5-5 gallon bucket which are filled with water as well to make sure the fire is completely out, and we wait until Monday to spread them in the forest for additional safety.

Easter is really one of the nicer holidays. Sure there is a lot of hype, and other holidays are nice too. I am partial to Easter because it marks the true beginning of spring. I hope that all of you had a good Easter, and for those who are not Christians, I hope that you are having a great spring.

Over the last few weeks, I have written several articles about dealing with everyday problems, from dealing with aging parents to dealing with aging yourself. This week I will discuss dealing with college students. My eldest son is a freshman in college, therefore he knows everything about everything. His biggest desire right now is to NOT live in the dormitory next year. The primary reason for this is the lack of privacy. Sharing a bathroom is bad enough, but having a common hall with people who are not quite as interested in study or sleep as he is, has caused him much distress.

He has been hunting for apartments to move into with his current roommate, a friend from high school. Although we support this effort (the proposed drop in food costs alone is encouraging), he, being the all knowing college student, has refused to listen to any sage advice from his parents. We must remember that from a college student’s point of view, no one has ever thought of anything before. No one has ever had the great idea of finding his own apartment, no one has every figured out all of the problems of the world, and most importantly, no one has ever discovered sex.

Luckily, he is only telling me about the apartment. The apartment search has revealed several very interesting misunderstandings, the most exciting of which was the idea that if you roommate decides to scamper, the landlord will find you a new roommate. It took quite a while to make him understand that the landlord does not care about your problems, pay the rent or get out. He was also unaware that some of the apartments are in no way associated with the university. This little tidbit was a shocking revelation, that a landlord could care less about your career at college, again pay your rent or get out.

The cost of an apartment was also a revelation, to think that the Neanderthals that are your parents might have known something about that, to bad they didn’t tell you before you went looking. Their plaintive comments that they had told you are just attempts to hide how backward they are. Parents also seem to think that just because they went to college, they might know some of the problems the new college student is facing. How could that possibly be true, no one has ever experienced this before.

Well, that is enough mocking for one night. He is listening, albeit late. He will continue searching, and with luck, he will not sign anything until his mother or I get there to read the fine print. Good luck with your own children as you try to send them off into the world

I have been travelling a lot recently.  Four hour plane rides every other week for five months, spending two week out of every three on the road for a 45 year old man is stressful.  This has caused several problems, not just the emotional strain of separation form my wife and children.  First there is the weight gain from eating at restaurants.  In my case, I gained almost 10% (more than 20 lbs).  Second there is the discomfort of actual plane travel in smaller planes (MD-80 aircraft are a bit short for my six foot stature).   Third there are the long hours in front of a computer at the remote site, I have nothing else to do but go to the hotel and watch TV (I’m not much of a club hopper).  The combined result is exceptional back pain.

I have taken the opportunity provided by my employer to receive physical therapy.  I cannot compliment the physical therapists enough.  This is not a therapeutic massage, nor is it chiropractic therapy.  The physical therapist determines the cause of the pain, this includes pressure and some massage.  The main effort of the physical therapist is train the patient in stretches and exercise, including just learning how to stand up from a reclined or seated position.  It is two stages; avoid the pain in the first place, then train not to create the painful situation again.

In my case, I apparently have overstressed one side of one vertebra.  The result is the need to stretch in a specific direction.  I also have a ‘closed chest’, meaning that I slouch with my shoulders forward and down due to my poor posture in front of the computer.  The result of this is a need to ‘open’ with both stretched and poster improvement.  The final straw, and what has caused the most pain, is a straightened upper back from the extra weight that I am carrying.  The result of this is the obvious need to loose the weight. 

I am lucky, in that most of my long term travel is over.  So, I have a chance of recovering if I follow the rules that the therapists have established.  Regardless of my travel plans, I intend to follow these rules, if nothing else, to avoid the pain.  I found that I had immediate relief at the therapist, but needed additional sessions to improve my technique for relief at home.  I have also found that most of the exercises are things I can do at work, on the road or at home.

I know that many of you have experienced back pain, from injury, bad habits, or just overwork.  You know how bad it is to not be able to get out of a chair or get out of bed.  I know many swear by chiropractors, but I have a sister in law who is a doctor and who would have a fit if I were to visit one.  Others trust in message therapy.  I am uncomfortable being massaged by any woman other than my wife.  This may be petty, but it is fact.  I you have need, or your other options are not working, I would recommend seeing a physical therapist.  Seeing them is important, but what is more important is following their instructions.

Many of us have parents in their golden years, men and women who lived through World War II and the Korean conflict.  Their goals in life were to work hard and raise children.  They wanted us to have a better and easier life than they had.  For the most part they succeeded.   My generation (40 to 50 year olds) is better educated, has better medical care, experienced less war and upheld a better standards of living than our parents could have dreamed of.

Now they are older, and we as caring children want to do our part to help them.  It is not easy.  Most of our parents are still very independent, even when knocked down a bit with disease, injury or just plain degradation of capabilities due to aging such as sight, hearing and mobility.  We can offer and are usually rejected.  It is their responsibility to help us not the other way around.  That is how it has always been, and that is the way it always will be.  But we all know that it cannot be forever.

As a personal example, my mother is a two time cancer survivor; breast and uterine.  She also suffers for Parkinson’s disease and has a calcium deposit on her brain from a childhood injury.  My father has broken his back twice and has had a medication induced stroke.  They live in a large house with my brother and sister about 45 minutes to an hour away.  I live in another state.  My dad does his best caring for my mom, but he has his limitations.

I have suggested on several occasions, that they could move close to me and I could take care of them.  My kids are slowly heading off to college and their own lives, so my wife and I have the capability to help. This was a cruel suggestion.  It was not meant to be, it was made with all of the best intensions.  I was suggesting that they could not make it on their own, and I was suggesting that they uproot from everything they know.  I could claim that they did that to me as a child, we moved several times for my father’s work, but half of my life was only 4 years, half of theirs is 40 years.

I justified to myself that moving them close to me was not selfish.  My state has better health care, less crime, less traffic and a better social network for older people.  Besides all of that, my dad moved his mother near to him, but that was when she was alone when his father died (he is an only child). It still did not matter.  They have their own lives.  Just as I do not want them telling me what to do, now that I am an adult, they want the same treatment from me.

I am relieved that my brother and sister are near enough to help.  I want to do more, and visit them when ever I can.  I like to think that my suggestions will help, now that I am learning how to think of their desires as well as their needs before thinking that I can come up with the best solution.

Although my parents will never move to be close to me, they are moving into a smaller, handicap friendly house.  This should make it easier on my dad, and make my mom more comfortable.  I can joke that it is actually 2 miles closer to me.  The lesson in all of this is communication and love.  Talk to your parents, find out what they want from you rather than putting your desires or judgments on their laps.  Know that they will not accept your offers, but also know that they love you as much as you love them.

It is hard to look at your parents and realize that they may not get to see your grand children.  I have thought about this on several occasions.  I was lucky enough to have a great grand mother alive until I was a teenager.  I did not realize the treasure that I had until long after she was gone.  Many of my friends never got to see their grand parents, much less great grand parents.

It is also hard to look at yourself and see that you are growing old as well.  You can look at where your parents were at your age, and consider all of the gifts they have provided.  Consider also how you are going to react when you own children start looking for a home for you.  I hope that my generation can emulate the strength and independence that our parents still have.  Until that day, I will continue to work hard to care and provide for my own children, and watch for opportunities to reach out to my parents.

Last week, I complained about scare tactics used by local governments during tax and budget planning.  This week I am going to complain about organizations misleading people with good intentions into donating money.

First, I want to point out that I encourage people to donate to their chosen causes, and donate generously.  Whether it is something as grand as feeding the people of Africa, timely like adding the people of Haiti, or as local as saving an historic building, all charity has value.  My complaint is purposefully misleading advertisements, naming or fear mongering to obtain money.

The best example of this is the Humane Society of the United States (http://www.humanesociety.org/).  At first glance or from their dramatic commercials, you would believe that these are the same people who run you local animal shelter.  This is not the case.  The HSUS is actually a subsidiary of PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (http://www.peta.org/).  Nowhere on their web site does the HSUS admit its association with PETA, nor their independence from local societies.  Local Humane Societies (including SPCA, the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) have suffered greatly from the divergence of charitable donations to this national organization.  I am not saying that the HSUS is not a worthy organization, it is just that it has different goals than your local Humane Society and the money may not be used in your community.

The HSUS and your local Humane Society are also not affiliated with the American Humane Association (http://www.americanhumane.org/).  They are at least a lot clearer in defining who they are, or more precisely, who they are not.  To take directly from their web site:

…And Who We Are Not

Dedicated to protecting both children and animals, American Humane is not affiliated with the Humane Society of the United States, an organization that primarily uses litigation and legislation to promote animal rights. Nor is American Humane a parent organization of local “humane societies” and SPCAs, which are locally based, independent agencies that operate animal shelters and provide animal care and control services to their communities. However, many of those agencies are member organizations of American Humane. As such, they benefit from our trainings, informational and funding resources, and national programs that increase the abilities, knowledge and effectiveness of their organizations and staff.

It is interesting and disturbing to me that some so called charitable organizations are nothing more than law suit generators.  I remember when PETA sued a group called People Eating Tasty Animals for having the web site PETA.com.  The result of that law suite was that the meat eating group lost their right to advertise because it was misleading.  At the same time, PETA created the HSUS, using the Humane Society name that has been so recognized for local efforts.  I personally believe that the intent was to capitalize on that name recognition to gather more funding.  Although this is not illegal, it is misleading, and many people with good intentions have inadvertently support a militant and aggressive national group when they believed they were supporting a local effort.

All I ask is that you do some research before sending your check.  I want to reiterate that I do not think any charitable group is bad.  If you truly believe that you can save an abused animal by enacting yet anther law or suing yet another business, then by all means support PETA and the HSUS.  If you are trying to save the animals you saw being taken from an abusive situation on you evening news, find the local group that is taking on that effort.  When you donate to a large national or international group, you need to know what that money could be used for.  PETA and HSUS have active campaigns to force corporations to stop the use of all animal products with the stated goal of making vegetarianism the standard for all people.  This is in addition to their efforts to stop the use of animals for painful and questionable research, most notably in the cosmetic industry.  Other groups have much narrower goals and tasks.

The bait and switch that I am concerned with here can only work with an uneducated or lazy audience.  You can avoid funding things you don’t like by taking the time to research any organization you think you want to support.  I personally believe that you can make the biggest impact in the world by starting in your own community.