Nanadadzie Ghansah – Page 22 – The Creative Space

The Day Bertha Went for a Ride

I am intrigued by what I call the Frisome Women (Friggin’ Awesome Women). I was raised by one who was raised by one, married to one, have a sibling who is one and may be raising one. Smart, focused, pragmatic, creative and tough, they have a certain sixth sense for what works! They don’t mince words, don’t suffer fools, and want to get things done. I am intrigued by what makes them tick. You all know one or may even be one.

Bertha

Bertha Ringer was a Frisome. She was born into a wealthy family in Pforzheim, Germany, on May 3, 1849 (167 years ago today). Her dad wanted a son and wrote in the family Bible: “Unfortunately only a girl again”! Bertha, however, was an intelligent girl who at an early age was very interested in technical things like the locomotive. When she was allowed to attend school at the age of 9, her interest was in the Natural Sciences. However, in that era, women were not allowed into institutions of higher education. It was the scientific belief that the lighter brain of women was logically unable to absorb and process as much information. Moreover, too much thinking was thought to be harmful to their reproductive abilities!
The beliefs of the day irked her greatly. It didn’t help when she read what her dad wrote in the family Bible. These factors might have lit up her subsequent determination to show her dad and the world that women could be great too.

On June 27, 1869, while on a trip with her mother, a poor young engineer joined them in their coach. They soon started talking and he told her about his dream of building a driverless carriage. She was hooked. By the next year, they were engaged. The man’s name was Karl Benz.
In 1870, Karl owned an iron construction company. His business partner was irresponsible and the company was failing. Karl was also a terrible businessman. As a single woman at that time, Bertha was allowed by law to invest in a company and so she rescued Karl’s business using funds from her substantial dowry.
They got married in 1872 and Bertha Ringer became Bertha Benz. They moved to Mannheim where she helped her husband start the Benz Gasmotoren-Fabrik – a company that manufactured internal combustion engines. Problems with the banks led to the closure of that business after a year.
In 1883, Bertha helped Karl Benz start another company – Benz & Cie. They made industrial parts. That business venture thrived. This allowed Karl to turn his attention to his lifelong dream – the invention of a driverless carriage powered by an internal combustion engine, in other words, an automobile. History then was full of several engineers before who had built versions of a driverless carriage but hadn’t been able to market them with any success.

After several failed attempts, Karl finally finished work on his first horseless carriage in December 1885 and received a patent for it in 1886. It was powered by a four-stroke, single-cylinder, 0.67 horsepower engine and had three wheels – one in front and two in the back. It was the Patent-Motorwagen No.1. For fuel it used the solvent ligroin that you bought from a pharmacy. It had no gear system and had brakes and wheels made out of wood!
By 1888, he had built 2 more – the No.2 and No.3. The No.3 was much improved with a 2 hp engine and max speed of 10 mph (16 km/h).
He showed the Model 3 at the Paris expo in 1887. In late summer of 1888, it went on sale as the Benz Patent Motorwagen.
Well, Karl like most great inventors was also terrible at marketing and couldn’t find any buyers or get anyone interested in his invention. Bertha had seen him build his Motorwagen and believed in the product. She thought it was ready for prime time and needed publicity. She had invested a lot of money in the venture and she needed to see some returns. Moreover, not too far away was a gentleman called Gottlieb Daimler, who together with his partner Wilhelm Maybach, were trying to build a driverless carriage too.

So one early morning in August of 1888 (may have been the 5th or the 12th), she left her husband a note, packed her two sons, Richard who was 13 and Eugen who was 15 into the Patent Motorwagen No.3 and drove off to visit her mum in her hometown of Pforzheim which was 66 miles (106 km) away!

Now let that go through your heads for a minute! 66 miles in a contraption that had never been tested before over more than a few miles in town! In 1888! On roads meant for horses and carriages! By a 39-year-old woman with 2 teenage boys! Now isn’t that just friggin’ awesome?

Now the big idea wasn’t really to visit her mum. It was to prove to her husband that his invention was great and ready for prime time and to give the car publicity.
The journey took her just over 11 hours. She stopped at several pharmacies to buy ligroin as fuel. The motorwagen used a surface carburetor which doubled as a reservoir for 1.5 liters of fuel. (Subsequent models had a fuel tank and also, her experience probably birthed the concept of the gas station). At one point, she had to repair the car’s ignition and she improvised with her garter. When the fuel line became clogged, Bertha cleared it using her hairpin! When the wooden brakes began to fail, she got a shoemaker to make leather pads for them, thus coming up with the idea of brake pads. At one point, she had to get two young boys to help her sons push the car up a hill (that bore the idea for a gear system).
The arrived in Pforzheim tired and dirty but in safely. Once in Pforzeim, she sent her husband a telegram to let him know they had arrived safely. Can you imagine him freaking out?
She stayed for 3 days with her mum and then made the return trip to Mannheim using a different route. This way, she was able to introduce the car to even more people. The reception ranged from wonder to frank fear of the “Smoking Monster”.

Beside getting a lot of publicity for the Motorwagen, she had also undertaken the first test drive of a car!
Her 120 mile trip was the catalyst Benz & Cie needed. Karl Benz became credited with inventing the predecessor of the modern car. By 1899, Benz & Cie was the world’s largest automobile company with a staff that had grown from 50 to 430. That year, they sold 572 vehicles!
Karl and Bertha, along with sons Eugen and Richard, also formed a new family-owned car company, Benz & Sons in 1906. The cars they made became popular in London as taxis because of their quality and reliability. It closed its doors in 1924.
Benz & Cie on the other hand stayed in business until 1926 when it merged with it’s main competitor, Daimler Motoren Gesellschaft (DMG) to form the Daimler-Benz AG. The rest, as they say, is history!

Karl Benz among other inventions went on to build the first truck and also to invent the flat or boxer engine that is still used in Porsches and other racing cars. Among some of his honors was a doctorate from his alma mater, the Technical University of Karlsruhe. He died in 1929.
On her 95th birthday on May 3, 1944, Bertha was honored by the Technical University of Karlsruhe, her husband’s alma mater, with the title of Honorary Senator. Two days later, she died.
Among her many honors is also the Bertha Benz Memorial route. The route traces her path during the world’s first long-distance journey by automobile in 1888 from Mannheim to Pforzheim and back.

What a woman! A mother, investor, test driver, mechanic and inventor! Now tell me Bertha Benz was not a Frisome!
Can you imagine what she might have achieved if she had been allowed to study at a university? Can you imagine what Karl Benz would have done without her?
So as you speed off in your AMGs, G-wagons and SLs, spare a minute to wish her “Herzlichen Geburtstag” on the other side.
What is the saying again? Behind every successful man, is a friggin’ awesome woman!
Frau Bertha Benz, you were friggin awesome!

Beyonce’s Lemonade

Watched Beyonce’s Lemonade‬….
Wow!
A quote:
“I tried to change. Closed my mouth more. Tried to be softer, prettier, less awake. Plugged my menses with pages from the Holy Book but still coiled inside me was the need to know: Are you cheating on me?”
A 60 min blend of poetry, dance, sultry vocals, beats and eye-catching visuals! An Ode to the Woman!
The poetry‬ was written by a Somalian-British poet called Warsan Shire. Cool poet!…. already named Poet Laureate of London at age 25 in 2014! Below is a snippet from her poem “what they did yesterday afternoon”:

later that night
i held an atlas in my lap
ran my fingers across the whole world
and whispered
where does it hurt?
it answered

everywhere
everywhere
everywhere.

Remembering Shakespeare

I know, I know……boring!…so what?.. he inspires me!……400 years ago today, April 23, 1616, poet and playwright, William Shakespeare died in his home in Stratford-upon-Avon. He was just 52……wrote 37 plays and 154 sonnets! 154 sonnets! Dang!..So I wanted to share two of my favorite quotes from all his works. The first is from Julius Caesar:

Brutus:
There is a tide in the affairs of men.
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.

Julius Caesar Act 4, scene 3, 218–224

The second is from Macbeth:

Macbeth:
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.

Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 24-28)

To Prince

prince

That Lady in the Red Corvette
One Sexy MF she was
Looks that made you never forget
A body that caused a buzz
Said, “My name is Prince.
I Wanna Be Your Lover”.
Looked at me with a wince
Said, “No go in The Holy River”.

The Most Beautiful Girl in the World
Donned in Diamonds and Pearls
As a Sexy Dancer she twirled
Raspberry Beret off, showing those curls
Said, “Money Don’t Matter 2 Night
So come and let us Kiss”.
For just a minute I thought she might
Just then came the hiss.

Said, “Let’s Pretend we’re Married”.
“Get Off!”, she said with a sneer
My world she just totally buried
Standing there in her Pink Cashmere.
I wanted to party like it’s 1999
Over at Paisley Park with her
With Peach, Cream and wine
Now that will never ever occur.

Betcha Golly Wow!
You did it without an apology
I guess now you take that bow
Leaving us your Musicology
As you walk into the Purple Rain
We understand When Doves Cry
It’s surely to hide the pain
When those they love leave for the sky.

Thoughts on the Death of a Colleague

Heading north-east on Kennesaw, make a left onto Armstrong Mill. Go up the road past the farms, over that narrow bridge to Delong. Make a right. Enjoy Delong. The rolling hills, beautiful views, horses, trees, the wind in your face, the challenge of the ride until you get to Walnut Hill. Hang a left. The beauty continues. At the corner of Shelby Lane, hang a right or just keep going on Walnut Hill. The former brings you to Jacks Creek which then gets you to Old Richmond, the latter to Old Richmond. Whatever your choice, head north on Old Richmond and soon you’ll see Delong. The circuit is almost complete.

I love riding this route on my bicycle. Challenging ride but beautiful. Broken only by the cars and trucks that whisk by, sometimes dangerously close, sometimes close enough to end your life.

David Cassidy wasn’t on the route I love to cycle. He was riding in another part of town but he faced the same dangers that every cyclist who loves riding on the street faces. This past weekend, he was killed while doing something he loved – cycling.
He wasn’t a friend. He was a colleague and a very good and helpful cardiologist. On the occasions we met in the dining room at St Joe’s at lunch time, we talked about riding. He knew the coolest routes.
I didn’t know him well at all. However, this strange ether in which we all humans swim has the uncanny ability to reverberate with the experiences of others. And those reverberations forces one to pause and look around. Sometimes they redirect you. Sometimes they puts things in perspective. Other times, they makes you ask questions. Questions like “Why?’ Then are the occasions where realization hits, like, “It could have been me!”
In an instant, David was killed doing something he loved to do and had done tens of times. In an instant, his life was no more. And it could have been me. It could have been anyone of us who loves to ride our bicycles.
Matter of fact, for all of us, life could end in an instant. Poof! Just like that.

All day, I have lamented about this – what does this life mean if it is just like a “candle in the wind”?
Then it hit me – we cannot change that! It is what it is! What we need to do is make each day count. Live each day like that is the day the flame will go out.
Kiss your spouse with passion, hug your kids till they gasp, enjoy that steak with gusto, make love like it’s the first time, call your parents, have dinner with your brother, smile at that stranger, sing, dance, cry….make the day count. For life is “… even a vapor that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away”.

Dr David Cassidy, rest in peace.

That Killer Instinct

Last Wednesday, Kobe Bryant played in his last NBA game. He dropped 60, wowing us his fans. Even as we swooned over his last stand, his haters and detractors pointed to the fact that he took 50 shots in order to make those 60 points. Kobe – the Ball Hog!
It was almost like the one thing that his fans love is the very thing his detractors hate the most – that he takes too many shots!
Which got me thinking:
In this life, there are people who never discover their talents. Then there are those who are talented but quite passive about the extent of their talents. Lastly are those who are talented and are driven to be the best. People like that have one focus in life – to be the best at what they do and to always come out on top. They cannot help it. That is how they are wired.
To the rest of the world, they may come across as selfish and narcissistic egomaniacs. With this breed, the line between selfishness and the will to win is razor thin.
We see it and describe it as a killer instinct. They do not want to kill anyone. They just want to be the best there is.
This is the breed that Kobe belongs to. His will to be the best basketball player there was meant that he was going to dominate in every instance. In a team sport like basketball, the description of selfishness will unfortunately come fast and furious with such an attitude.
So would Kobe have been better of playing a non-team sport like golf or tennis? I say yes. I think his will to dominate would have been seen as excellence by most, not as selfishness. Beside these single-player sports, there are certain positions in some team sports that would have suited him well.
Let’s explore them:
An NFL Quarterback
No one would have described him as selfish and a ball hog. He would have received accolades as a winner and a killer! I’ve never heard Brady or Manning described as ball hogs. Now a wide receiver would be a terrible position for his nature.
A Baseball Pitcher
Again, a position that would have suited him well. Alone on the mound, pitching fast balls, befuddling batters. No ball hog!
A Soccer Striker
Look at Messi. Who can call him a ball hog? Look at Renaldo! Kobe actually plays soccer. In that position, he would have been expected to score and score often.
Personally, these are two traits I admire in people – talent and the will to be best. When they come together in people I know or in celebrities we watch, read, and/or hear about, I don’t only admire. I also bow!

Keep it Simple

Back in 1998, I heard a trauma surgeon talk about communicating with patients. His words have stayed with me all these years.
The gist of his message was:
Physicians are as a group, are highly educated. A lot of the patients we deal with do not understand medicine, surgery, anatomy or physiology like we do. If we need to explain a procedure, the need for it or a disease process to a patient, we need to keep it simple.
Now that coming from a surgeon is deep!
It’s one of those things I’ve never forgotten. To keep it simple.
One can tell a patient:
“I am going to place a central line in your right internal jugular, float a pulmonary artery catheter and also place an arterial line in your left radial artery. You need that for your aortic valve replacement.”
Or one can say:
“To better take care of you during your operation, I need to place a larger iv in that vein in the right side of your neck. It helps us give you blood faster if you need it. Also, we feed a tube through it into your heart that helps us measure how much blood is being pumped in an out. You also need a better way of measuring your blood pressure. Feel your left wrist. Feel that pulse? That is an artery. I’ll put a small tube in there that will help measure your blood pressure better.”
Sure, the latter takes longer but you don’t have a patient who stares at you after you are done speaking like you just dropped from Pluto! We must all try to talk to patients in terms that are understandable to them. Terms that we take for granted may sound like Greek to most lay people. Even a term as simple as “colonoscopy” has befuddled some patients.
Some steps that can help me are:
I imagine explaining a procedure or even a disease process to one of my older uncles or aunties or to my kids. I break it down to a level they can understand.
I use diagrams that I sketch. I find drawing out the anatomy and pointing structures out and what is going to be done helps immensely. A lot of patients in Kentucky believe epidurals are the number one cause of paralysis in the world. A small drawing of the layers a needle goes through to reach the epidural space and it’s relatinship to the spinal cord helps immensely to allay some fears.
I encourage questions. If a patient can repeat what you said and base a question on that, your work is done.
Do not look at patients with disdain. It is not their fault that they do not understand what a myxomatous mitral valve is. I bet you do not know what Capital Structure Theory is either. A degree of empathy is needed to understand where patients are coming from. Without that empathy, it is difficult to relate to the patients and explain things to them at a level that is understandable.

Is it really that hard

Once upon a time, a white, middle-aged man was having major surgery at a University Hospital somewhere in the US. The surgery’s nature was such that, he needed the care of two anesthesia providers. On call for the procedure of that nature were two brown-skinned anesthesiologists. Let’s call them Anesthesiologist A and B (AA and AB).
When AA and AB met the patient prior to surgery, he appeared nervous and uneasy and they attributed it to anxiety. Who wouldn’t be nervous before such a big operation? AA asked a nurse to give the patient an anxiolytic.
They saw the patient again about thirty minutes later in the operating room. He was already on the table. While AA got stuff together to place invasive lines, AB exposed the patients upper arms and torso to place external monitors. The sight that met his eyes took him aback. The patient’s upper chest and arms were covered with tattoos. That was not the problem. It was what the tattoos said that rattled him. They were signs, symbols and abbreviations from a rather dark part of this country’s and European history. AB pointed to an abbreviation on the patient’s left shoulder. It was made up of a letter, repeated three times. Even though AB knew what it meant, without knowing why, he asked the patient:
“What do those letters mean?”
“The patient at this point had gone pale and had a sheepish, frightened look on his face. He muttered:
“I was young and stupid then”.
“Is it like a secret fraternity? Can I join?”, AB probed.
There was no answer from the patient. An uneasy silence filled the room.
At this point AA came over, having noticed the tattoos and the exchange. He stood close to the patient on the left side and smiled at the patient.
AB broke the silence:
“I guess it must be really secret. Don’t worry, we will take good care of you.”
And take care of him they did.
The patient did well during the surgery and was taken to the intensive care unit afterwards. About ten days later, he left the hospital for rehab.
What is the point of this rather true narrative?
If two doctors could bring themselves to take care of a man, who probably hates them for the color of their skin and in other circumstances would do them harm, giving him world-class anesthetic care for a complex operation,
HOW HARD IS IT TO BAKE A CAKE OR EVEN MAKE A BOUQUET FOR TWO PEOPLE OF THE SAME SEX WHO WANT TO SHARE THE REST OF THEIR LIVES TOGETHER?
A CAKE? A BOUQUET?
Think about it!

The Web

Humans can also create them….just not only those creepy crawlies!…one can create one of love, of friendship, of support…or one of lies, of deceit, of pain…yeah, one can….one can always create…

“A Web”
(A Platinum-Palladium print)

Story Time with Jooma

“The universe is made up of stories not atoms”.
– Muriel Rukeyser from “The Speed of Darkness”

She would shuffle in every evening as the sun set, stooped over her old, trusted cane. Her old, haggard body harbored an indomitable spirit, the fire of which lit up in her eyes. To a five-year-old, she was the oldest person in the world.
As she moved slowly across the courtyard, eager eyes would follow her.
She would head for her stool set in the corner of the courtyard like a throne. The dancing flames of the kerosene lamps that lit the courtyard always cast ghostlike shadows on the walls, enhancing the moment in intrigue and suspense.
The minute she sat down, three generations of descendants would form an arc around her stool. She would always cast her gaze over the assembly, as if to make sure no one was missing.
We always sat in suspense, riveted and waiting for the opening lines. We never knew where Storytime with Great-Grandma Jooma would head out to. It could be into the world of Kweku Ananse, about great kings and queens, a fable, an event from long ago or trips over hills and far away. We just waited and knew it would be good.
And then she would clear her throat and go:
“Kwezi wo dze ndze oo!”
And we would respond:
“Wo gye dze wo ara!”
Then even as the red flames of the lamps danced in her eyes, they’ll open up to usher us into her universe. Her universe of stories. Soon it became my universe too.
Over the years, I may have travelled the world, learnt the secrets of science and even marvelled at the stars and planets but at heart, my universe is made of stories not atoms.