Stupid is as stupid does

Albert Einstein said “Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the universe.” I’ve been living that comment again lately and yesterday in particular.


Yesterday I received a letter from the PA state police forwarded to me from my Uncle Carl’s address. In July while in PA, with the help of his doctor, I took Uncle Carl to Logan House, an assisted living center in Lower Burrell. It is a lovely place where he has his own apartment; it is very expensive but his funds can pay for it. Uncle Carl is my last living relative on my mom’s side, 91 (soon to be 92). He has dementia, not Alzheimer’s but definitely dementia, such that it was no longer safe for him to remain in his own home despite care givers. So he has adjusted and doing well there, his sense of humor remains and he is content and happy there. And I have peace of mind knowing all is well with him.

But back to stupidity. Uncle Carl had a minor traffic accident in April which I learned about when we were in PA in May. No one was injured but he should not have been driving. Somehow he got into his head with my constant chatter, that he should relinquish his driver’s license and sell his car. He did that willingly and for that I was grateful! Meantime, his doctor sent the forms with the dementia diagnosis to the PA Department of Transportation, known as PennDot. So PennDOT has notification from his own doctor along with the incident accident report and the emergency room physician’s diagnosis about the dementia.

Having had a career in state government I understand non-thinking employees. I absolutelydrilled into my staff that if they were there to provide customer service; oublic service is supposed to be that.  I understand how brains are checked at the door in the morning and possibly after so many years in bureaucracy the people no longer pick up their brains when they leave for home. Suffice that bureaucracies with lifelong employees who know no better are frustrating entities on any given day. Probably everyone has encountered frustration dealing with their own state Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) as it was known in CA. CA DMV was distinguished as being the worst government bureaucracy in the state. That distinction was duly earned because most folks encountered nothing but  frustration dealing with them. I nominate PennDot as achieving stupidity beyond what DMV could have expected.

I’ve corresponded by certified mail, with PennDot at least four times regarding Uncle Carl’s driver’s license. I have provided copies of my Power of Attorney and signed, certified and sworn that I cannot find his “current” driver’s license to physically return it to them. I gave up trying to get through to them on the phone because neither anyone in their offices nor their Medical Unit answer the phone. Granted those employees went without pay during the PA budget crisis this past summer. I suppose if I had to work without pay I would be grumpy, but I would do my job and certainly answering the phone is a basic service of government agencies. Perhaps someday PA voters will not elect people like Ed Rendell as governor and things might improve. But I digress; PA is a strong Democrat state with unions holding and pulling major political ropes (not strings) and with extreme taxation policies. One last harangue on PA which taxes even what the feds exempt; it is one of only 11 states with heinous inheritance taxes. Wealthy PA elderly move to Florida for more reasons than the climate.

So yesterday the mail brings me a letter from the PA State Police in Apollo demanding that Uncle Carl surrender his driver’s license in person so that his “suspension” can begin! If he does not appear and do so, the fines begin at $100 and threaten incarceration and who knows what else! Stupidity reigns!

Fortunately there was a phone number and a state trooper had signed the letter personally. Even better he answered the phone. I explained the situation and Uncle Carl’s dementia and that I have been unable to find his driver’s license in his home despite many searches. This trooper is completely sympathetic and understands. He tells me that PennDot sends these on automatically. He goes on to say that the explanation from families is usually similar to mine, they cannot find the license and they are desperate. He understands that an Alzheimer’s or dementia medical diagnosis should be enough to convince PennDot that the person whom they are threatening cannot respond. He even shares that he has had to make house calls to homes of these elderly when there has been no response to demand their license and they nearly have a heart attack on the spot. He does not enjoy that at all. How could he; he is a state officer reduced to doing bureaucratic tasks that at best are unnecessary and at worst stupid. So he tells me to stop by the next time I am in PA, or call him and he will make arrangements to meet me so I can sign the affidavit yet again with my power of attorney stipulating that Carl will not ever be driving again and the license cannot be found. He is a very nice individual and then as we talk he says even better he will mail me the affidavit; as he says, “Why would you go through the trouble to fabricate something like this? You have enough to do managing for your Uncle long distance. PA does not have to complicate life any more for you.” I want to reach through the phone and hug him for having the rarest of all qualities among bureaucrats—common sense! Hooray! We laugh and ponder what could happen if he is told to go to the assisted living center to confiscate Carl’s license and the entire population of 34 residents arise in agitation. He assures me he will personally enter this into the system and be done with it. Now a state trooper has become a clerk for the PennDot bureaucrats who cannot read, refuse to read and refuse to even answer their phone. I will not include his name, to protect his privacy, but be assured he has a special place of gratitude in my prayers. If there was ever a system that needs quality improvement and customer service training it is PennDot. But I am retired and do not do such things anymore; I’ll not be offering my services to them!

After the mail, I go to the Legion to donate blood at the mobile Red Cross blood drive. I donate regularly because it is something I can do and blood is needed. But I do not know that Stupidity eagerly awaits me as soon as I arrive! Stupidity knows no geographic boundaries. You can run but you can’t hide from it!

Syd, an elderly lady has run the bloodmobile for 35 years for the Legion; she retired from it last year saying it was time for her to give it up. I have been donating blood probably for as many years, beginning first in CA during my career in CA state government where the blood mobiles came to the offices. Another local woman, not known for sense, stepped up to take over Syd’s coordinator job. Syd’s system worked and so one would expect that Shelly could follow that model and all would be well. Wrong! Shelly is not the sharpest knife in the drawer; she’s more like a butter knife among the meat cleavers.

As I enter I see only one solitary old lady at the reception desk who cannot handle the demand of one person at a time. Syd had two or three there to keep each other company and facilitate the sign ins. This does not bother me because I know the routine, sign in, take the same packet of materials, sit down, read (I speed reed) the information, return the packet, get a number and proceed to the holding area until the Red Cross worker comes to escort you for another series of questions and tests. I do my self service check in, get through the screening and donate blood. There is a seating area where donors had always been served refreshments. As I am donating I notice few people sitting there, but this is early in the day not the busiest time of the day when working folks are on their way home. But I see the few donors go to the tables and leave quickly; this appears strange because I know it is important for donors to replenish their fluids before leaving. I also notice two young girls, teens or twenties somethings, who are sitting at the refreshment tables, yakking and doing nothing that I can observe. Shelly, the new coordinator who is a large gal is across from me donating blood as well. Then I notice Syd, our retiree, fluttering and throwing her arms in the air.

When I get to the refreshment tables I see a sloppy mess, and look for a clean place to sit and drink and eat. In the past here was always a crew of the older ladies serving, asking how many gallons you donated, cleaning tables, and generally working at making donors comfortable. Syd flutters over apologizing, “we only have orange juice or cranberry-grape today...” What, no cokes, no plain cranberry, no coffee, no bottled water? She serves me a small glass of water in a Styrofoam cup obviously meant for coffee. The table which usually has fresh popcorn from the Legion bar, plates of cookies, cheeses and crackers, bags of cookies, raisins, candy, and other varied treats looks sparse. There is an empty plate at the far end where two men are sittin.  Shelly appears and Syd flutters to her asking if she can please put out more cheese to which Shelly replies, “well I can’t put it all out now…” I ask Shelly where the beverages are and she responds that she has two juices. I tell her I do not drink those, thinking to myself that perhaps the orange juice would be fine with a good shot of vodka. I mention that at least before we had cokes and coffee to which Shelly walks away and Syd flutters nervously and apologetically. Two men at the far end of the table are sitting drinking their water. As soon as they get up Syd brings the cheese platter to me. She quietly remarks that she guesses she will stand and move the plate back and forth, apologizes again quietly so as not to call attention. I question what happened to the fleet of women who used to provide hospitality to donors and Syd shrugs her shoulders and flutters away. Shelly is nowhere to be found. I suspect she is back in the kitchen stuffing her face.

This is more than I can tolerate, so I gather my coat and say, “forget it, I will go out to the bar and get something to drink!” On my way out the two young girls who are doing nothing ask me if I want a card and waive a business card in my face. When I ask, “What for?” One says to remind me of the next donation date. I smile and tell her directly that I will not be donating here again. I realize that these two are Shelly’s workers, likely a daughter and friend; they of course cannot be bothered with hospitality so the dirty tables and lack of attention to donors is what we get while they sit yak and offer cards! The Red Cross always mails out postcards and there is publicity in the newspapers. Duplicate useless effort.  The end of hospitality which has been replaced with stupidity!

Through the door in the bar I get a Coke from Patty, my friend and bartender. I tell her I have never seen such a lack of concern for donors in my 35 years of donating; she mentions that Shelly has taken it over. I acknowledge that stupidity has now replaced hospitality. There is a man sitting at the bar with a beer and a big meal; he also was a donor who left disgusted and said he will not donate there again. I commiserate with him and tell him that there are blood drives at the fire departments nearby and across the river at the Red Cross blood center in La Crosse. Meantime I have experienced yet again what happens when someone takes over knowing not what they do. This is the danger of volunteers. A person who has never run anything and could barely function without a monitor assumes control. One would have thought continuation of the system that worked would be the best strategy but stupidity knows not beyond itself.