Blow-up about a blow-up

You might remember seeing this on the local news, if you live in Maryland. It was August of 2024 when a house on Arthurs Woods Drive in Harford County exploded early one morning, killing the homeowner and a contractor working there, and injuring three others. The blowup also damaged several neighboring houses. The house itself was literally blown to tiny bits.

The National Transportation Safety Board investigated, and found that there were  communication failures at Baltimore Gas and Electric and its parent company, Exelon.

An underground electrical fault - electric lines were buried too close to gas lines - was the initial cause of the explosion, but the NTSB blames the deaths on BGE's "ineffective response to the initial gas leak."

The night before, a passerby sniffed the gas in the neighborhood and followed protocol, reporting his findings to BGE.

The BGE gas dispatcher sent a trouble truck to check the situation, but sent it to an intersection, instead of the exact address of the ill-fated house.

There seemed to be confusion at the utility, and no one was sent to the right location to look for the problem. It came to light that the BGE dispatcher was consuming alcohol and fell asleep at his work station, although his supervisors failed to send him for drug and alcohol testing.

In a classic case of locking the barn door a bit too late, BGE says they have made several policy changes. All gas leak calls are now monitored 24/7, dispatchers are receiving additional training, and there is now fitness-for-duty screening of their calltakers and dispatchers.

This is not like sending a truck to replace a street light. People all know that gas leaks can be deadly and should be handled with utmost care at once.  You would like to think that the gas company knew that.

Lightnin' Strikes

Before 1994, about the only music that  Antony (" Tony") Cicoria listened to was that good old rock 'n' roll. His parents had stuck him in piano lessons when he was 7, but he hated it and it did not stick.

In 1994, aged 42, he was a medical doctor, specializing in orthopedic medicine, orthopedic surgery, orthotics, prosthetic supplies, and sports medicine. He kept himself in excellent condition, which may explain why he lived through getting struck by lightning in Albany, New York, that summer.

Another reason he may have survived? He was outside waiting to use a pay phone when the bolt hit him. The next person in line to use the phone was an intensive care nurse.

Aside from a burn mark on his head and left foot where the lightning hit him and exited, he seemed to have no physical damage at first. Several weeks later, he developed memory issues and was sluggish. He consulted a neurologist, whose examination (EEG and MRI) found nothing wrong.

He went back to work, and two weeks later, his memory was restored and he felt energetic again.

Over the next few days, Dr Cicoria became obsessed with an insatiable desire to hear piano music. He bought a piano. He taught himself to play it, and within three months of the lightning strike, he was spending nearly off of his days writing and playing piano music.

Doctors who studied the case said that he had suffered a cardiac arrest during the incident, and that may have caused his brain to re-wire itself. He still practices medicine and the piano.

I always wanted to play the piano, too, so maybe I'll take out the garbage during the next electrical storm. Don't worry; I'll wear rubber-soled shoes to ground myself.

I mean, really

I don't know what part of this is worst! Starting from the beginning: last Friday night the umpire Doug Eddings was behind the plate for the game between St Louis and Colorado.

For whatever reason, he got a wild hair about the way that the Cardinals' rookie pitcher Hancel Rincon was wearing his hat while pitching. It was sort of cockeyed across his forehead, but facing the right way. Lots of guys have worn their hats that way. The Orioles used to have a guy (George Sherrill) who wore his hat right as it came out of the box, with a totally flat brim. They even called him "The Brim Reaper," but no one made a big deal of it.

Of course, as things tend to happen when people get off on power trips, things spun downhill fast. Eddings actually ordered the young man from the Dominican Republic to straighten out his cap. 

During the ensuing argument with St. Louis manager Oli Marmol, Eddings handed Rincon a pitch clock violation for not pitching during the specified time even though the umpire and the pitcher's manager were busy hollering at each other. 

 

And then the umpire made a dubious call that gave the Rockies the lead. Just absolutely inane. I guess that ump was just having manopause symptoms or something.

But I don't know that that was the worst of it, because on Saturday, someone calling herself Holly Baylor of "FAX Sports" wrote a tweet "reporting" that "MLB has suspended umpire Doug Eddings for the remainder of the 2026 season, including the entire postseason, following his controversial performance during Friday night’s Cardinals-Rockies game.

This did not turn out to be true, of course. But just as someone needs to sit down with Doug Eddings and tell him that his personal choices in millinery have nothing to do with the onfield hats of the ballplayers, someone somewhere needs to prevent "Holly Baylor" (if that is her name) from writing literal fake news stories.

And it's my personal feeling that every player in baseball should turn their brims 30 degrees toward their left ear for the next three games.

And that Doug Eddings should have to umpire whatever games he is assigned to for three days while wearing a complete clown outfit - giant shoes, rubber nose, red fright wig. If he needs to clean the plate, let him use a seltzer bottle spray.

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE 

Eddings heard from someone - maybe his bosses at Major League Baseball, maybe his inner sense. Who knows? But he did apologize to the pitcher before the game on Saturday, a game in which all of the Cardinals wore their hats off-center.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that maybe Eddings came to his senses shortly after the whole thing started, but refused to back down. When that happens, you might as well back down right away. 

 

Everything the workers have and appreciate came because they had to demand it. Think of what Labor Day means.

Sunday Rerun: You don't have to call me "Mister," Mister.

 I read the great "Ask Amy" column every day in the SUN paper, because I am that kind of guy who needs help handling the vicissitudes of life.

One thing I have learned is that it's best to handle your own vicissitudes, but in private.

Anyway, the other day, a 77-year old lady wrote to ask Amy about how to deal with the cringe she gets from being called "young lady."  She is active, still working, so it's not like she's obviously worn down by life. So why do people - she cites "waiters, tour guides and all kinds of public servants" - and mentions that it's ALWAYS a man - marginalize her this way?

I submit, not by any kind of excuse because there is no excuse for such condescending behavior, but the problem is that most men don't know how to appreciate women.  This situation is emblematic of that. There is no reason to use this smarmy attempt at reverse flattery.  How about realizing that a 77-year-old woman is not a "young lady" or an "old lady," but, rather, a "woman"? Age has nothing to do with it. Lots of people of lots of genders are youthful well into their 80s, and plenty of us decided to seem superannuated at 25. Go figure.

And while I was mulling this over, I heard from an online friend who said she did not like being referred to as "honey" by a female customer service rep on the phone. I think it best to save "honey" for people we really know and are sweet on (and they, on us).  BUT there is one exception.

In Baltimore, one of the remaining vestiges of our onetime Southernness is a simple rule that any customer of any retail establishment is often called "hon." Sometimes, it's "honey," but usually, it's "hon," as in, "Did you want the white American cheese, or the yellow, hon?"

And "ma'am" and "sir" are still in vogue here. In my case, I dealt with citizens for most of my working life as a public servant, and referring to them by those honorifics is second nature to me. And noted Southerner Elvis A. Presley addressed everyone that way right up to his sad end.

So will I stop saying that? No ma'am, no sir. And I'll take the yellow cheese, hon.

The Saturday Picture Show, September 5, 2026

The trading card people had their printers working day and night after Colton Cowser made this sensational game-saving catch the other night. This is starting to look like the peak Oriole highlight for this season, though.

So you wonder what it looks like when water drops drop on 35-mm film? Wonder no more.

This just reinforces my notion that Scotland is a terrifically cool place. The horse hs hung her shawls right out in her pen!

You know you have a reputation for lead-footed driving when people are personalizing speed signs just for you. Slow down, Donna!

All my friends love the low rider. I understand that this truck has airbags so it can be lowered to the ground to park at Concrete Blocks 'R' Us.

A bit of philosophy from your local graffito-vandal.

This sort of competitive pricing is just why Grocery Outlet failed to catch on in Baltimore. No math majors, they.

I would feel really insulted if I cracked my Chinese cookie and got this sort of warning, rather than some Asian wisdom. For the record, our pet does not do her business in public, so nyahh nyahh.

No, he's not. He is of this plain no longer. That was 32 years ago! Hope you remember.

But that one commercial says to "tell your doctor if you have a parasitic infection." Now you won't let me in the hospital to tell him. I'm so confused.
 

Lean on Me

Remember that oldie by The Rooftop Singers, "Walk Right In"? Well sir or ma'am, modern research says they should have called it "Walk Left In." 

And don't blame the Rooftops; the song dates back to 1929 and an original record by Carson's Jug Stompers.

But, according to science (and since school is back in sesh, better pay attention!) we humans tend to walk the way the other humans walk, and that means veering to the left as you strut about.

They even go so far as to say that we still do this even if no one else is around! 

A new study says humans instinctively drift left, or counterclockwise, when we walk — even if no one else is around.

These were the highly-regarded researchers from the University of Navarra.  They checked out the gaits of hundreds of people in Spain and Japan, and they say no matter what, no matter where, and even if the people are right-or-left handed - they're leaning left!

“Our findings are highly consistent,” the researchers recently wrote in the journal, Nature Communications....because, “regardless of crowd size, boundary effects or laterality traits such as handedness, footedness and eye dominance, counterclockwise motion systematically emerges.”

The ancients never suspected that the feet have their own brain!

The researches looked at all sorts of people in all sorts of situations on all kinds of terrain, and they are dead to rights, we walk left.

I can only hope that I was not among the unsuspecting amblers being tracked or filmed or whatever they did.  As the owner-operator of two replaced knees, I tend to left them decide which way to go.

It does no good to argue with titanium.