Greetings, fellow Christmas humans,
Hope yours is going well. Did you get your pets a Christmas gift? Did you get any gifts? The weather in this section of the planetary grid has been sunny and in the low 60's today - most excellent. I sat by the pool in the afternoon sun wearing a tank top and shorts enjoying a drink with the household's trusty canine at my naked feet. There is something to be said about having a pool in your back yard. Imagine hopping out the shower and walking out to the pool area wearing nothing but a towel and a grin, to dry your long, flowing grey hair in the sun while the gentle breeze caresses your young hide and run through some stretching and levitation exercises...all in privacy, of course. Yeah, well, I never did get around to that...
I have been house sitting since last Saturday for a benefactor, the one I wrote of before with the house, the pool, the large backyard. It has been enjoyable interlude during these days of life. It has been awhile since I've been able to sleep stretched out for several hours at a time. He also granted unrestricted access to food, basically unlimited refrigerator privileges. The leftovers that the family had were...formidable...and there is a low probability that those remnants will be present when the family returns, especially the salad fixins. I hope that I have been taking care of the kitchen in a manner that is pleasing to the matriarch of the household - took me a little while to find out where the Tupperware is stored. It is a pleasure to have a unhurried, balanced hot meal sitting at a table and eating in the quiet with a loyal canine sitting nearby, doubtless being alert for any scraps that may fall which there have not been any to date. The liquor supply may be reduced but there will be enough for his return. I did catch a light buzz Monday and Tuesday evenings and nobody got hurt and the neighborhood and residents are well and in one piece. For those of you that are not that well informed in the man rules, that is rule #142 section B2. You always leave enough liquor, etc. (if applicable) for the owner of the residence to enjoy a good buzz after a long journey in the return to home. I need to write a book about those rules in the near future; it would save a lot of misunderstandings among males and may help the female portion of human race to understand things about us males a bit better. Oh, and the morning showers - had forgotten the sense of well-being that goes with regular access to nominal cleaning facilities. I was able to revisit some of he TV shows that I used to watch - the science and military shows most notably. I didn't have time to watch one of my favorites - the weather channel. I doubt that that show is negatively impacted by the Hollywood writers' strike.
I also had the responsibility of looking after the canine domesticus of the compound. She is a good natured dog with curiosity and fun showing in her eyes. Some dogs don't look you in the eyes while the ones that do sometimes show feelings of submission, fear, shyness or anger. I think that you can tell a bit about a companion's life history by how they look at you. We went for a walk in the park earlier today where she frolicked a bit. She has me trained as far as mealtimes go. She also responds favorably when I say 'pretty girl' or 'yo, bitch'. She seemed to enjoyed the freshly raked back yard today, laying on her back and rolling around in it. Judging by her participation in the yard cleaning activity, I was able to surmise that the mutt is seriously lacking in lawn care skills. Maybe I can teach her a couple of tricks before I leave...like chainsaw juggling and using the phone.
Yes, I raked the back yard but It wasn't planned. I went to use some the weights that the benefactor has on the patio but they had cobwebs and dust all over them. Apparently, this family didn't have any problems using equipment in such a state but me - well, I don't want to get my hands dirty while my sinews are rippling under this bronze hide of mine. So I located a broom and cleaned the area as well as the entire patio area and realized that I made a clean spot. I had to move several dead plants out of the way but was careful to use...caution; could have been some DNA experiments in progress. So I continued around the pool area until it was satisfactory...and noticed the effects of trees in winter has on a well manicured lawn. Yes, I then located a rake and commenced a rakin'. The canine assisted in the mode of a supervisory function. I was unable to locate any suitable bags to contain the dead leaves beyond the one that I already filled as well as one of my own (a stylish light blue one from the library's eco-thingy effort) so I had to leave the remainder in two large piles toward the western boundary of the fence. I thought of asking the neighbor that borrowed his lawnmower (hasn't returned yet) and leaning on them for certain lawn supplies but thought that that may not go such a long way toward a positive neighborhood atmosphere. Yes, I looked in the on site shed but didn't see anything that fit my current needs though I did notice several legal substances (gasoline, ant stuff, oil, plant food, etc.) that could be utilized to produce a large bang, flash of light and possible municipal destruction but since today wasn't close to July 4th, I refrained. Also, I was concerned that I may be infringing upon one of his winter equinox rituals. For I all know, the family could be using the leaves in some ancient pagan ritual hat I have no idea about and really, really don't want to know. Also I was concerned that I may come across some bodies or parts thereof - no, really. I can see that capability in his two daughters; the son isn't old enough yet to access certain DNA vectored traits.
The pool of the compound could have used some touching up but I failed to locate the appropriate implement and decided that the current meteorological conditions prohibited jumping in the pool to gather the leaves and other non-pool items. Should an unscheduled life threatening situation arise precipitated by such action, it occurred to me that the mutt possessing life saving skills had a low order of probability. And I doubted that any help would come from the two duck decoys that the benefactor has adorned the pool area with.
I took this opportunity to wash my entire compliment of clothes, blankets, towels, etc. and categorized them in a different order of need. After I retrieved all of it from the truck, I was surprised at the size of the pile. I also touched up BT - vacuumed (grey hair everywhere!), window cleaning, leather reconditioning, wheel cleaning. What a magnificent machine!
Oh, yes, the dog - a personable mutt. On Christmas Eve we sat around the fireplace, yes, a gas fireplace, and sang carols. Wellllll, I told the dog to sing and made a few howling sounds and the canine jumped in by pointing that long snout of hers skyward and howling away. I swear, she has to have some wolf/husky DNA because she can howl with the best of them; she has the bat ears and the tip of her upturned tail has a splash of white. Thankfully, it was not loud enough to bother the neighborhood and summon the human authority figures with their pesky weapons. If they did, I'm confident that between the two of us, we could have taken them. She did wake me the next morning, by sticking her head in the room where I was sleeping, around 7:45 AM (yeah, I slept late) and barked once. Obviously, it was her feeding time to which she was kindly reminding me and to get my young ass up and prepare her culinary morning repast.
I started working at a part-time job in a retail establishment this past Sunday.The first couple of shifts have been fun so far - the fun part is interacting with the customers. The people I work with seem OK as well and I'm hoping that we all have fun together while we perform our corporate function. I was somewhat tired at shift's end due to being on my feet all that time. I received some feedback from a customer while I was enjoying a smoke break outside for a few minutes. He mentioned the fact of my willingness to engage and help customers and 'that no grass was growing under my feet'. Ain't heard that saying since grandma. He said that he was observing me - I wonder if he is affiliated with the store. And why was he watching me?? Anyway, I figure a long as I'm there, do my best and try to enjoy the situation. Hopefully, when I have to interact with a customer who is being a butt head, I must remember that the penal system does not recognize the defense 'but he was being such an asshole!' as a valid excuse to skewer that person in the gizzard and rip it out.
Finally, in an attempt to curry favor with the benefactor, I employed certain substances that I found in the property shed and constructed several proximity detonated mines and placed them in certain portions of his property that will supplement his already existing formidable security measures (force fields, directed energy weapons in the giga-watt range, 3 Vulcan class 15mm Gatlings with 5,000 round ammo tubs stocked with anti-armor ordinance, and certain highly classified orbital assets). All the mines are interfaced to a master-control Class 4 AI that I constructed out a discarded cellphone, a discarded Walkman radio (somewhat aged), two toothpicks and glue, and melded those components into a sentient network (saw it on McGyver years ago). If the AI goes down for any reason, control passes to independent mine control. I've accounted for every possibility during the numerous testing scenarios ......except for a certain good-natured canine wandering across the kill zone! Damn!
Gotta go,
David
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Homeless - 44
Greetings, fellow campers,
I think winter is making it's presence felt for the first time in these parts. We're supposed to get a hard freeze tonight. I am fortunate that I didn't sleep late this morning and did the hygiene thing even though it was in the low 40's - even got some time in the steam room. I am not going to venture outside until well into the morning tomorrow. I'm not man enough to hit the hot tub when it is below freezing.
I'm on foot today to the library, appropriately clothed but I failed to take into account the viciousness of the west wind. At least this afternoon when I head back to my dwelling, the wind will be at my back. Thankfully, a benefactor supplied some funds for fuel so I won't freeze. I'll run BT a few minutes before I turn in tonight to warm the cab up and, most assuredly, upon awakening, believe you me. Hopefully, I'll be able to sleep until 8-ish in the morning.
I was told of possible part-time job opportunity by an individual that I met recently, who is aware of my goals, and I will talk with the hiring manager Monday afternoon. Hopefully, it'll work out. I checked it out on the net and it seems like an OK place to work. The pay is decent but then again any pay is decent these days when you consider that my overhead is nearly non-existent...so far. The temperature is supposed to be close to freezing Monday morning but I have to clean up due to the appointment that afternoon. Well, I guess it will be an opportunity to test my limits - kind of like what I'm doing today with this walking thingy to the library...despite better judgement. Yes, I would've drove BT to my present location but I would rather use that same fuel to warm up in the darkness of the early morning. Earlier this week, I sent a resume in response to an ad in the paper for a manager of a self-storage facility. There was a whisper of something about the ad and I reviewed my Sent mail folder and shor 'nuff, I had mailed a resume to the same company before but to different person. And, yes, I did call and leave a message but no response back. Humans!
I haven't worked out for several days due to laziness, I think. Maybe it's encoded in our DNA that when it's cold outside, huddle in the cave with the rest of the clan and conserve energy. That was probably easier to do with the saber tooth tigers roaming around looking for takeout in those days. Come to think of it, probably got pretty gamy huddling in a cave with the rest of the gang during the winter months - no bath, no toothbrush, no porta-johns. We have better technology for our caves these days, thanks to the gods. Maybe the smell was getting to them up high on their lofty perch.
Speaking of toothbrushes, I've read where they are testing a toothbrush that you can use without toothpaste. I know what you're thinking but from the results to date, your mouth feels even fresher. It seems that they use titanium dioxide built into the toothbrush and when light hits it when you are brushing, it activates a chemical reaction that devastates the molecules that plaque consist of. They are also testing it as an anti-pollution measure inside houses by coating the vents with that same material. I remember reading some time back where Volvo (or some Euro car company) was painting that on the car radiators to reduce CO2. When I read that, I thought the USA wasn't far behind but yet to hear of our auto industry adopting that practice. Maybe they can start with some of the public bathrooms that I've encountered; destroying galactic evil one room at a time.
I stopped at a place this morning for free coffee and they put out some cut navel oranges. The oranges were good, sweet and juicy, but I would recommend not to use coffee as a chaser. I was going to get the large donut thingy but thought better of it since it was cold and I was on foot and didn't have a place to consume that wonderful substance in comfort.
Well, getting time to leave so I can beat the saber tooths back to the cave.
Take care,
David
I think winter is making it's presence felt for the first time in these parts. We're supposed to get a hard freeze tonight. I am fortunate that I didn't sleep late this morning and did the hygiene thing even though it was in the low 40's - even got some time in the steam room. I am not going to venture outside until well into the morning tomorrow. I'm not man enough to hit the hot tub when it is below freezing.
I'm on foot today to the library, appropriately clothed but I failed to take into account the viciousness of the west wind. At least this afternoon when I head back to my dwelling, the wind will be at my back. Thankfully, a benefactor supplied some funds for fuel so I won't freeze. I'll run BT a few minutes before I turn in tonight to warm the cab up and, most assuredly, upon awakening, believe you me. Hopefully, I'll be able to sleep until 8-ish in the morning.
I was told of possible part-time job opportunity by an individual that I met recently, who is aware of my goals, and I will talk with the hiring manager Monday afternoon. Hopefully, it'll work out. I checked it out on the net and it seems like an OK place to work. The pay is decent but then again any pay is decent these days when you consider that my overhead is nearly non-existent...so far. The temperature is supposed to be close to freezing Monday morning but I have to clean up due to the appointment that afternoon. Well, I guess it will be an opportunity to test my limits - kind of like what I'm doing today with this walking thingy to the library...despite better judgement. Yes, I would've drove BT to my present location but I would rather use that same fuel to warm up in the darkness of the early morning. Earlier this week, I sent a resume in response to an ad in the paper for a manager of a self-storage facility. There was a whisper of something about the ad and I reviewed my Sent mail folder and shor 'nuff, I had mailed a resume to the same company before but to different person. And, yes, I did call and leave a message but no response back. Humans!
I haven't worked out for several days due to laziness, I think. Maybe it's encoded in our DNA that when it's cold outside, huddle in the cave with the rest of the clan and conserve energy. That was probably easier to do with the saber tooth tigers roaming around looking for takeout in those days. Come to think of it, probably got pretty gamy huddling in a cave with the rest of the gang during the winter months - no bath, no toothbrush, no porta-johns. We have better technology for our caves these days, thanks to the gods. Maybe the smell was getting to them up high on their lofty perch.
Speaking of toothbrushes, I've read where they are testing a toothbrush that you can use without toothpaste. I know what you're thinking but from the results to date, your mouth feels even fresher. It seems that they use titanium dioxide built into the toothbrush and when light hits it when you are brushing, it activates a chemical reaction that devastates the molecules that plaque consist of. They are also testing it as an anti-pollution measure inside houses by coating the vents with that same material. I remember reading some time back where Volvo (or some Euro car company) was painting that on the car radiators to reduce CO2. When I read that, I thought the USA wasn't far behind but yet to hear of our auto industry adopting that practice. Maybe they can start with some of the public bathrooms that I've encountered; destroying galactic evil one room at a time.
I stopped at a place this morning for free coffee and they put out some cut navel oranges. The oranges were good, sweet and juicy, but I would recommend not to use coffee as a chaser. I was going to get the large donut thingy but thought better of it since it was cold and I was on foot and didn't have a place to consume that wonderful substance in comfort.
Well, getting time to leave so I can beat the saber tooths back to the cave.
Take care,
David
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Homeless - 43
Hi'ya, fellow humans,
Hope ya'll doing OK and keeping warm during these cooler days. And taking care of the jungle friends.
It has certainly gotten cooler in the Dallas area. Several days ago, I stopped by and retrieved a few winter items from a storage place; namely a pair of jeans, a couple of long sleeved pull overs, gloves and one thick sweater pull over thingy with a hood. There have been a couple of days that piece of apparel came in handy when out and about on foot. The jeans were a bit of a surprise because they were hanging a bit looser than the last time I wore them this past summer. I happened to have kept a belt and thank god it had some additional holes that I haven't used but am using now to keep the jeans from falling down. When I was packing stuff away in preparation for this lifestyle I almost threw out all the winter gear but something made me keep it. Glad I did! I was thinking at the time that surely I would have another contract before September but I guess that was my arrogance talking. Sometimes our thoughts are not our friends. The cold days in question I wore a tank top with a thick T-shirt with a long sleeve pull over covered finally with that hooded sweater thingy. With the torso thus covered, I donned the jeans with the belt (rung in the third unused hole, thank you) with underwear and tennis shoes. A baseball cap and gloves completed the ensemble and the temperature in the low 40's presented no problem for the few miles that I was in it. But we're not getting overconfident - December 22 ain't arrived yet. And you guys up North are thinking, What a wimp!! Heyyyy, I never claimed to be otherwise.
These days, I'm walking everywhere weather permitting in an effort to conserve fuel. Yesterday was kind of an odd day. It was supposed to be chilly in the morning and wasn't which derailed my bathing schedule. It rained all day so I didn't go anywhere. It used to be that that phrase meant that I just hung around the apartment - today it means I stayed in my truck and read, wrote and slept during the day for several hours. I must have needed the rest because it sure felt good when I woke up at 5:30 PM.
For the past several days, I've also been conserving what few bucks I have left and doing a good job of it without starving or mugging anyone or knocking over a financial institution. I haven't formalized any plans for the latter at this time. This strategy has depended on the couple of grocery stores' samples that I mentioned earlier, a free Dr Pepper several days a week from kind souls and granola bars with a packet of honey spread across them a few times during the week. I was gifted with some fruit and vegetable supplements that I've been taken on a regular basis that I'm sure is addressing the issue of essential food molecules being processed that the body needs. I'm anticipating a few bucks coming in the next few days (returning a toll tag) that should get me through to the end of the year. We'll let the next year take care of itself. At this point, I'm not really concerned about preparing for any significant year-end taxable events that will have to be reported next 4/15.
I read in the paper about a movie called The Golden Compass. I saw a couple of previews where I exercise at and looks interesting to me. Maybe it's because I like the idea of having an armored polar bear as a transport and fellow warrior. I do have to wonder about their grocery bill though. Sorry, buddy, I don't have any spare seals on me right now. The article stated that a religious group was taking issue with it because it might weaken the faith of those who saw it. It seems that there can't be any movie, comment, artwork, literature, etc. these days that there will be some religious group taking a exception to it because it might cause some to question their faith. Are there some people out there don't want to think that maybe what they believe is incomplete/off mark/wrong? Are there some people out there don't want people questioning their faith because there would be less money to line their own pockets? To me, if your faith cannot withstand scrutiny, maybe your faith is a waste of your time. Even Mother Teresa admitted she doubted her faith but she still did the human thing - caring.
And while we are on the subject - the Virgin of Guadalupe was in the paper today and the festivities have begun. I think that artifact was in the Dallas area in the recent past and I wanted to see it but was scared away when I read of the crowds. I like some people around but not a whole lot of them. I sure everyone knows the story about her and Juan Diego in 1563 in Mexico. But I bet you didn't know : 1) the plant fiber that Juan's cape was made of usually lasted, at the best of times, only a few decades and his cloak is still around today and I'm sure that that has nothing to do with his impeccable laundry techniques nor the brand of soap he was using; 2) the manner of how her image was imprinted on his cloak is still a mystery - if it was by any known imaging technology to date, our science would have identified that technique; and 3) within the past few years imaging technology has progressed to such a high degree that when they subjected the eyes of the Lady herself that was imprinted on his cape to image analysis, they could see the expression of ol' Juan himself in the clothes of that time period.
That is absolutely chilling, not a bad chilling, but a damn good chilling. Yep, non-linear things have been around awhile and will continue to be around. And for anyone to be an atheist is...illogical.
I believe in miracles. Do you?
David
P.S.
Let me be among the first to wish you Marice Monty Dot and Happy New Year!!
Hope ya'll doing OK and keeping warm during these cooler days. And taking care of the jungle friends.
It has certainly gotten cooler in the Dallas area. Several days ago, I stopped by and retrieved a few winter items from a storage place; namely a pair of jeans, a couple of long sleeved pull overs, gloves and one thick sweater pull over thingy with a hood. There have been a couple of days that piece of apparel came in handy when out and about on foot. The jeans were a bit of a surprise because they were hanging a bit looser than the last time I wore them this past summer. I happened to have kept a belt and thank god it had some additional holes that I haven't used but am using now to keep the jeans from falling down. When I was packing stuff away in preparation for this lifestyle I almost threw out all the winter gear but something made me keep it. Glad I did! I was thinking at the time that surely I would have another contract before September but I guess that was my arrogance talking. Sometimes our thoughts are not our friends. The cold days in question I wore a tank top with a thick T-shirt with a long sleeve pull over covered finally with that hooded sweater thingy. With the torso thus covered, I donned the jeans with the belt (rung in the third unused hole, thank you) with underwear and tennis shoes. A baseball cap and gloves completed the ensemble and the temperature in the low 40's presented no problem for the few miles that I was in it. But we're not getting overconfident - December 22 ain't arrived yet. And you guys up North are thinking, What a wimp!! Heyyyy, I never claimed to be otherwise.
These days, I'm walking everywhere weather permitting in an effort to conserve fuel. Yesterday was kind of an odd day. It was supposed to be chilly in the morning and wasn't which derailed my bathing schedule. It rained all day so I didn't go anywhere. It used to be that that phrase meant that I just hung around the apartment - today it means I stayed in my truck and read, wrote and slept during the day for several hours. I must have needed the rest because it sure felt good when I woke up at 5:30 PM.
For the past several days, I've also been conserving what few bucks I have left and doing a good job of it without starving or mugging anyone or knocking over a financial institution. I haven't formalized any plans for the latter at this time. This strategy has depended on the couple of grocery stores' samples that I mentioned earlier, a free Dr Pepper several days a week from kind souls and granola bars with a packet of honey spread across them a few times during the week. I was gifted with some fruit and vegetable supplements that I've been taken on a regular basis that I'm sure is addressing the issue of essential food molecules being processed that the body needs. I'm anticipating a few bucks coming in the next few days (returning a toll tag) that should get me through to the end of the year. We'll let the next year take care of itself. At this point, I'm not really concerned about preparing for any significant year-end taxable events that will have to be reported next 4/15.
I read in the paper about a movie called The Golden Compass. I saw a couple of previews where I exercise at and looks interesting to me. Maybe it's because I like the idea of having an armored polar bear as a transport and fellow warrior. I do have to wonder about their grocery bill though. Sorry, buddy, I don't have any spare seals on me right now. The article stated that a religious group was taking issue with it because it might weaken the faith of those who saw it. It seems that there can't be any movie, comment, artwork, literature, etc. these days that there will be some religious group taking a exception to it because it might cause some to question their faith. Are there some people out there don't want to think that maybe what they believe is incomplete/off mark/wrong? Are there some people out there don't want people questioning their faith because there would be less money to line their own pockets? To me, if your faith cannot withstand scrutiny, maybe your faith is a waste of your time. Even Mother Teresa admitted she doubted her faith but she still did the human thing - caring.
And while we are on the subject - the Virgin of Guadalupe was in the paper today and the festivities have begun. I think that artifact was in the Dallas area in the recent past and I wanted to see it but was scared away when I read of the crowds. I like some people around but not a whole lot of them. I sure everyone knows the story about her and Juan Diego in 1563 in Mexico. But I bet you didn't know : 1) the plant fiber that Juan's cape was made of usually lasted, at the best of times, only a few decades and his cloak is still around today and I'm sure that that has nothing to do with his impeccable laundry techniques nor the brand of soap he was using; 2) the manner of how her image was imprinted on his cloak is still a mystery - if it was by any known imaging technology to date, our science would have identified that technique; and 3) within the past few years imaging technology has progressed to such a high degree that when they subjected the eyes of the Lady herself that was imprinted on his cape to image analysis, they could see the expression of ol' Juan himself in the clothes of that time period.
That is absolutely chilling, not a bad chilling, but a damn good chilling. Yep, non-linear things have been around awhile and will continue to be around. And for anyone to be an atheist is...illogical.
I believe in miracles. Do you?
David
P.S.
Let me be among the first to wish you Marice Monty Dot and Happy New Year!!
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Homeless - 42
Hi,
I've been thinking lately and my thoughts have led me down some distasteful paths and, of course, 'thinking' has been said to get one into trouble.
I've been thinking of what my life would be like if I did obtain a position in my former profession, at or near the hourly rate as an IT contractor that I've enjoyed, would be like within the context of lifestyle and financial responsibility.
Even if I took a position that payed my former hourly rate, my monthly payments for 3 or 4 years would reduce me to a spartan lifestyle, which I could tolerate. If I found a job that pays the median national salary, lifestyle would be somewhat more spartan for a longer period of time while I repayed the corporate masters, leaving little to nothing for savings and life enjoyment; again, which I could tolerate. At minimum wage, lifestyle would be even more spartan with nothing left to pay debt and accumulate savings, and to enjoy life's little pleasures (movies, eating out, nice clothes, deep tissue massage, etc.) and yes, I could put up even with that. Of course, my current circumstances are bit below that level now. Talk about being indentured for life! Yet all four alternatives leave something to be desired. But what if this is as good as it gets and the circumstances continue to deteriorate until I end up with just the clothes on my back?
Maybe the best I can hope for is to endure one day at a time like I'm doing now and keep seeking a part-time position that allows time for the other writing project. Oh, well, maybe another option will present itself.
There was something I read a while back about two students that just graduated; one was a dentist and the other with a law degree. According to the article they would have one to two decades of high monthly payments ahead of them with little to live on. The one with the law degree found that job prospects were not as plentiful as the college recruiters led her to believe. She wondered what would happen if she were unemployed for an appreciable length of time. Now you can read in the papers or hear about on the news about people working 2 or more jobs just to keep their home from being foreclosed, leaving little time to enjoy the American dream, whatever that has evolved into - somebody is going to have to tell me what that is these days. It seems the middle class is being squeezed more and more by taxes and rising prices due to fuel, transportation and food shortages due to world demand. Maybe the majority of us are indentured to a significant degree to keep the corporations alive. But as long as we have a bed and a roof...
I've read where 3 out of 4 people are dissatisfied with their job. The articles didn't specify why; whether because of the condition of the corporate environment, co-workers' behaviour, unsatisfactory job function, lack of emotional investment, policies or managerial shenanigans. I guess I was fortunate to have enjoyed what I once did for a living despite the intelligence of the ...managerial personalities and/or corporate policies. I'm thinking of the toll that those conditions extracts from the workers in terms of absence from family, and the psychological, emotional, physical stress and how that is vented thorough health issues, abusive behavioural expressions, drugs and alcohol usage. Is it any wonder that the health care costs are rising at such a rate? Face it, happy people are sick less often than the unhappy ones. I think I read that somewhere or heard it on the Cartoon Network. Seems the corporate world could be structured better but that would probably cost the major stockholders too much. When people say that they love their job, are they trying to convince themselves and/or others? I hope in a lot of cases it is true. Maybe there is a lot more weight to the expression 'TGIF' than I originally thought. I always enjoyed the weekends but I was not opposed, intellectually or otherwise, to returning to the job Monday morning to gleefully address the challenges that I left Friday. More times than not, I would have thought about a particular software issue over the weekend and came up with another approach. At this point, I'm wondering about those other sayings that I've come across in the corporate environment over the years that I laughed at and didn't put much emphasis on over the years.
I've read that the baby boomers are slated to stay in the work force longer because they enjoy better health and are living longer. Those two attributes seem to be true but now the media coverage has shifted to the issue of the boomers retiring at 62 ASAP (or ASAFP!). Who can blame them for getting out of the crap at the stroke of midnight when they reach 62 and doing something that they can really enjoy?
There was a film produced several years ago that didn't get much fanfare that I saw at the end of last year called 'The Corporation' on a educational channel (IFC I think). It traces the birth and purpose of the first corporations and their evolution to current times. If you are a 'green' person and see this movie, I doubt you will ever buy anything from a store again. I recommend viewing it just as an exercise in corporate history.
Sometime ago I read of when a mining company, in the old days of course, set up an ore extraction facility that they would bring in the workers and their families to company sponsored housing so the men could do the work but the location was far from the usual retail centers and the mining company, in the spirit of caring for the rank and file, would bring the merchandise to them...at a considerable markup. More often than not, over the course of time, the families couldn't leave because of what they owned the company and their employment was reduced, in principal, to servitude. Glad that practice is no longer in vogue or all of us would be in the same shape regardless of the industry we worked in, right? RIGHT?
I know that this entry has been a bit gloomy but the employment options stated earlier have been on my mind and thought I would share it with you. Doubtless some of you are thinking Why? We didn't want to think about it either! Well, maybe we need to lift our heads up from harvesting the wheat sometimes, shrug off the lashes being dealt across our young muscular backs and see what the foreman is doing.
On an even more depressing note is the place where I sometimes clean up in the early morning hours that I've wrote about in an earlier entry. It has been a couple of weeks and they still haven't resupplied the soap in the men's bathroom!!! Jeez!! What's even more scarier is that there is not any soap in the women's bathroom either!! I would prefer to have the soap around to wash my clothes after the hot tub cycle and some for me. But the women's bathroom being out of soap for this long is appalling. Verily, I say unto thee, this doth smacks of the dark lord himself.
Keep plugging away,
The acronym ASAFP has a patent pending. And I don't think I need to tell you what the 'F' stands for.
I've been thinking lately and my thoughts have led me down some distasteful paths and, of course, 'thinking' has been said to get one into trouble.
I've been thinking of what my life would be like if I did obtain a position in my former profession, at or near the hourly rate as an IT contractor that I've enjoyed, would be like within the context of lifestyle and financial responsibility.
Even if I took a position that payed my former hourly rate, my monthly payments for 3 or 4 years would reduce me to a spartan lifestyle, which I could tolerate. If I found a job that pays the median national salary, lifestyle would be somewhat more spartan for a longer period of time while I repayed the corporate masters, leaving little to nothing for savings and life enjoyment; again, which I could tolerate. At minimum wage, lifestyle would be even more spartan with nothing left to pay debt and accumulate savings, and to enjoy life's little pleasures (movies, eating out, nice clothes, deep tissue massage, etc.) and yes, I could put up even with that. Of course, my current circumstances are bit below that level now. Talk about being indentured for life! Yet all four alternatives leave something to be desired. But what if this is as good as it gets and the circumstances continue to deteriorate until I end up with just the clothes on my back?
Maybe the best I can hope for is to endure one day at a time like I'm doing now and keep seeking a part-time position that allows time for the other writing project. Oh, well, maybe another option will present itself.
There was something I read a while back about two students that just graduated; one was a dentist and the other with a law degree. According to the article they would have one to two decades of high monthly payments ahead of them with little to live on. The one with the law degree found that job prospects were not as plentiful as the college recruiters led her to believe. She wondered what would happen if she were unemployed for an appreciable length of time. Now you can read in the papers or hear about on the news about people working 2 or more jobs just to keep their home from being foreclosed, leaving little time to enjoy the American dream, whatever that has evolved into - somebody is going to have to tell me what that is these days. It seems the middle class is being squeezed more and more by taxes and rising prices due to fuel, transportation and food shortages due to world demand. Maybe the majority of us are indentured to a significant degree to keep the corporations alive. But as long as we have a bed and a roof...
I've read where 3 out of 4 people are dissatisfied with their job. The articles didn't specify why; whether because of the condition of the corporate environment, co-workers' behaviour, unsatisfactory job function, lack of emotional investment, policies or managerial shenanigans. I guess I was fortunate to have enjoyed what I once did for a living despite the intelligence of the ...managerial personalities and/or corporate policies. I'm thinking of the toll that those conditions extracts from the workers in terms of absence from family, and the psychological, emotional, physical stress and how that is vented thorough health issues, abusive behavioural expressions, drugs and alcohol usage. Is it any wonder that the health care costs are rising at such a rate? Face it, happy people are sick less often than the unhappy ones. I think I read that somewhere or heard it on the Cartoon Network. Seems the corporate world could be structured better but that would probably cost the major stockholders too much. When people say that they love their job, are they trying to convince themselves and/or others? I hope in a lot of cases it is true. Maybe there is a lot more weight to the expression 'TGIF' than I originally thought. I always enjoyed the weekends but I was not opposed, intellectually or otherwise, to returning to the job Monday morning to gleefully address the challenges that I left Friday. More times than not, I would have thought about a particular software issue over the weekend and came up with another approach. At this point, I'm wondering about those other sayings that I've come across in the corporate environment over the years that I laughed at and didn't put much emphasis on over the years.
I've read that the baby boomers are slated to stay in the work force longer because they enjoy better health and are living longer. Those two attributes seem to be true but now the media coverage has shifted to the issue of the boomers retiring at 62 ASAP (or ASAFP!). Who can blame them for getting out of the crap at the stroke of midnight when they reach 62 and doing something that they can really enjoy?
There was a film produced several years ago that didn't get much fanfare that I saw at the end of last year called 'The Corporation' on a educational channel (IFC I think). It traces the birth and purpose of the first corporations and their evolution to current times. If you are a 'green' person and see this movie, I doubt you will ever buy anything from a store again. I recommend viewing it just as an exercise in corporate history.
Sometime ago I read of when a mining company, in the old days of course, set up an ore extraction facility that they would bring in the workers and their families to company sponsored housing so the men could do the work but the location was far from the usual retail centers and the mining company, in the spirit of caring for the rank and file, would bring the merchandise to them...at a considerable markup. More often than not, over the course of time, the families couldn't leave because of what they owned the company and their employment was reduced, in principal, to servitude. Glad that practice is no longer in vogue or all of us would be in the same shape regardless of the industry we worked in, right? RIGHT?
I know that this entry has been a bit gloomy but the employment options stated earlier have been on my mind and thought I would share it with you. Doubtless some of you are thinking Why? We didn't want to think about it either! Well, maybe we need to lift our heads up from harvesting the wheat sometimes, shrug off the lashes being dealt across our young muscular backs and see what the foreman is doing.
On an even more depressing note is the place where I sometimes clean up in the early morning hours that I've wrote about in an earlier entry. It has been a couple of weeks and they still haven't resupplied the soap in the men's bathroom!!! Jeez!! What's even more scarier is that there is not any soap in the women's bathroom either!! I would prefer to have the soap around to wash my clothes after the hot tub cycle and some for me. But the women's bathroom being out of soap for this long is appalling. Verily, I say unto thee, this doth smacks of the dark lord himself.
Keep plugging away,
David
NOTE:
The acronym ASAFP has a patent pending. And I don't think I need to tell you what the 'F' stands for.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Homeless - 41
Hi,
Hope things are well with you. Things for me are about the same which boils down to 'not dead yet'.
Things are a bit different with the weather change. Having a pool environment to bask in is a nice option when the weather permits but the colder temperatures narrow the options of where to spend time at. Outside of the library and the truck, the other places to sit and bask in the quiet want some money for you to hang out. That is understandable due to the attribute of any successful business plan that relies on significant customer throughput to maximize profits. When it really gets cold out, there are a couple of fast food places that I will spend some time in after I buy a cup of coffee. I would much rather be by the pool though.
Job situation the same...no need going into that.
Stopped by the other day where I have a couple of suitcases stored and retrieved a couple of cold weather items; namely, a thick sweater, a couple of long sleeved pullovers and two pair of sweat pants. In a couple of weeks, I will retrieve a couple of more items and start leaving some of the summer gear behind.
I was invited over for Thanksgiving feasting with a benefactor's family. I had a couple of beers, watched some football and consumed Thanksgiving quantities. I tried sweet potato pie for the first time. It must have been good because I went back for seconds. The company was enjoyable and the time passed very quickly. It is a pity that I can't put the food molecules away like I used to because all of it was good. Wished I could've gnawed on the stuff for the next couple of days. Don't know if I made a fool of myself but sure hope I'm invited back. Their canine was decent also - maybe it sensed that I wasn't hungry when she approached me.
The following weekend went to a benefactor's birthday party on a Saturday night and had an enjoyable time. The food, cake and the company was enjoyable. However, they included Everclear as the major ingredient in the Jello shots. For those of you that are unfamiliar with Everclear it is a 199 proof alcohol that you utilize to clean engine parts or you can drink it or both at the same time if so inclined. I was told the next day that I was out of it by 11 PM while they went on till 4:30 AM. Can't put that away like I used to either. The next day we paid the price by laying around all day watching TV and lightly snoozing. There was a firm vow never to use that ingredient again in anything.
One of the benefactor's has a couple of cats. One is amendable to human interaction. The other one I did not see at beginning of our relationships and got the first glimpse of that feline in October when I helped them move. That feline is a little skittish around humans and is believed to have been mistreated by a human male - she doesn't seem to have a problem with roaming the apartment when only women are present. During the day of the Everclear recovery while sitting around watching Spiderman 3, the cat came out and wandered around and even sniffed my outstretched hand. Not much but a good start to let her know that not all human males are buttheads. Animals, as a general rule, like me though they may be a bit nervous about approaching me if I haven't had a meal recently.
As for the Spiderman movie, it was not completely satisfying. The first two I thought were good enough to warrant a place in my home library but this one lacked something. I don't know but maybe it is the voice of the actor being down all the time and always fighting super-villains. Movie Guys, next Spidey movie, have him take on a crime syndicate, you know, just a bunch of mean humans. And have him joke around more. In the comic books, he was always a smartass when he was whupping and getting whupped on. And maybe get another actor with a different voice that is a bit lighter and uplifting. And more agility in the fighting moves. Maybe have him fight the Hulk or team up with a couple of other Marvel heroes. Please don't take the route of the Star Trek movie franchise!
See ya next time with more movie suggestions and whatnot,
David
P.S.
To the movie guys...if you go with my suggestion on the Spidey movie, I expect a take of 2% total gross.
Hope things are well with you. Things for me are about the same which boils down to 'not dead yet'.
Things are a bit different with the weather change. Having a pool environment to bask in is a nice option when the weather permits but the colder temperatures narrow the options of where to spend time at. Outside of the library and the truck, the other places to sit and bask in the quiet want some money for you to hang out. That is understandable due to the attribute of any successful business plan that relies on significant customer throughput to maximize profits. When it really gets cold out, there are a couple of fast food places that I will spend some time in after I buy a cup of coffee. I would much rather be by the pool though.
Job situation the same...no need going into that.
Stopped by the other day where I have a couple of suitcases stored and retrieved a couple of cold weather items; namely, a thick sweater, a couple of long sleeved pullovers and two pair of sweat pants. In a couple of weeks, I will retrieve a couple of more items and start leaving some of the summer gear behind.
I was invited over for Thanksgiving feasting with a benefactor's family. I had a couple of beers, watched some football and consumed Thanksgiving quantities. I tried sweet potato pie for the first time. It must have been good because I went back for seconds. The company was enjoyable and the time passed very quickly. It is a pity that I can't put the food molecules away like I used to because all of it was good. Wished I could've gnawed on the stuff for the next couple of days. Don't know if I made a fool of myself but sure hope I'm invited back. Their canine was decent also - maybe it sensed that I wasn't hungry when she approached me.
The following weekend went to a benefactor's birthday party on a Saturday night and had an enjoyable time. The food, cake and the company was enjoyable. However, they included Everclear as the major ingredient in the Jello shots. For those of you that are unfamiliar with Everclear it is a 199 proof alcohol that you utilize to clean engine parts or you can drink it or both at the same time if so inclined. I was told the next day that I was out of it by 11 PM while they went on till 4:30 AM. Can't put that away like I used to either. The next day we paid the price by laying around all day watching TV and lightly snoozing. There was a firm vow never to use that ingredient again in anything.
One of the benefactor's has a couple of cats. One is amendable to human interaction. The other one I did not see at beginning of our relationships and got the first glimpse of that feline in October when I helped them move. That feline is a little skittish around humans and is believed to have been mistreated by a human male - she doesn't seem to have a problem with roaming the apartment when only women are present. During the day of the Everclear recovery while sitting around watching Spiderman 3, the cat came out and wandered around and even sniffed my outstretched hand. Not much but a good start to let her know that not all human males are buttheads. Animals, as a general rule, like me though they may be a bit nervous about approaching me if I haven't had a meal recently.
As for the Spiderman movie, it was not completely satisfying. The first two I thought were good enough to warrant a place in my home library but this one lacked something. I don't know but maybe it is the voice of the actor being down all the time and always fighting super-villains. Movie Guys, next Spidey movie, have him take on a crime syndicate, you know, just a bunch of mean humans. And have him joke around more. In the comic books, he was always a smartass when he was whupping and getting whupped on. And maybe get another actor with a different voice that is a bit lighter and uplifting. And more agility in the fighting moves. Maybe have him fight the Hulk or team up with a couple of other Marvel heroes. Please don't take the route of the Star Trek movie franchise!
See ya next time with more movie suggestions and whatnot,
David
P.S.
To the movie guys...if you go with my suggestion on the Spidey movie, I expect a take of 2% total gross.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Homeless - 40
Hi,
Hope you are doing well with much laughter and with a joyful tune in your heart or whatever anatomical part that you hold dear. Have you completed your preparations for the Thanksgiving Day feast? Did you venture into the deadly wild, stalking your prey without any technological advantages, wrestling that vicious bird to the ground in an epic death match, depriving it of its' life with your own bare hands or did you wimp out like the rest of us and drag a carcass home from the grocery store? I always did...
I think I did a good job waxing the truck some time back. At a couple of places where I park during the day, the birds pay a visit, landing near the driver's side and loiter about for a bit. Occasionally, one of them will land on the hood of the truck on the driver's side at the windshield wiper and look at me as if saying C'mon, get up off some of them crackers. A few days ago, one lit on that spot and took a step forward toward me and slipped and busted his ass on the slick surface. He promptly got up, ruffled his feathers and looked both ways as if checking to see if any of his flock companions saw that and then flew off. The ragging he must have received.
I filled out job applications at a couple of liquor stores this past Saturday. I talked with one of the hiring supervisors for a few minutes and he told me that the company has received several applications from people in the IT industry. Guess a lot of that is going around these days. Maybe one of these is the magic BB. Utilizing a suggestion from a benefactor, I touched base with a couple of places where I filled out a job application previously and talked with the managers, letting them know of my goals (kinda) and that I would be a contributing employee for a significant amount of time if hired. I had the impression that they would revisit their previous assumptions and decisions. Hopefully, those subsequent conversations will bear fruit and soon. It is starting to get kinda cold in these parts - it ain't as much fun to step outside for a smoke as much anymore. Meteorological sensor assets indicate that many of us will be feeling it across the nation for the next several days. I'm thinking that one of the first things that I'll do with the first check is rejoin an athletic club that I was a member of several years ago. In addition to the exercise opportunities, there are whirlpools, spas, lap pool, dry and wet saunas and hot shower options! That would be a pleasant change of pace. At the places that I frequent these days where my legal status to be there is highly questionable, I always have to have a line of bullshit ready in case I'm ever called on it. It'd be great to actually belong at a place for only $30 a month without having to look over my shoulder.
One of my evening parking places is no more due to the reopening of a popular restaurant. It had suffered fire damage of a questionable nature nearly two years ago and was being investigated for a time. I don't know what became of it but the patrons have returned in full force which means that there are too many people around for my comfort level. I found another one a couple of kilometers away near one of the library branches that I frequent that has adequate shade in a shopping center. It has worked out well so far but today I seemed to be the focus of some unwanted attention. One distraction was an older gentleman wanting to buy BT. He approached me before at another location and my response was the same - 'Nope'. I asked him what he would do with it because he appeared to me as a homebody (late 70's), not exactly an active sort. He replied that he wanted the truck for his 35 year old daughter who is a big fan of trucks for some reason. The next distraction was an older grey haired woman walking by a bit later and said something I couldn't understand due to her thick accent. It turned out that she wanted to give me 'a reading', which I assumed was something like telling my fortune, for $5 - at this point, I'll just see how things work out, thank you. I declined and she lowered her price to $3 which I again declined, citing financial hardship and she moved on. Lastly, a couple of guys in shirts and ties came by wanting to save my soul from the eternal ravages of Satan's 24 hour all-purpose spa and launched into their song and dance. I interrupted, telling them I appreciated their concern but I'm not wired that way and wished them a pleasant evening. Not taking the hint or maybe more concerned with the quality of their own everlasting participation in the afterlife, the other one tacked to the topic of a more fulfilling life upon this Earth and I again interrupted saying that their effort on this subject would be spent better with someone else and again wished them a pleasant evening and they left. Jeeezzz...I just wanted a quiet place to do a crossword or read or write. Hope this was a unique experience because it is a decent spot for my purposes...and I abhor violence...most of the time.
Let's talk of food and the quality and expense thereof. Before my entrance into this lifestyle, I've read/heard of the questionable value of a low cost diet and the concern that many segments of our society have about the national infrastructure, and its' management, that is tasked with supplying the citizens with quality foodstuffs; primarily, why it costs more to eat healthy and cheaper to eat fast food and/or junk food. Originally, I started out eating fruits, vegetables and salads as wanted or needed but as money got tighter, I discovered that I could spend far less at a fast food place and that meal would last me longer. For example, I could spend nearly a buck on an apple in the morning and by lunch, I needed something else to gnaw on. But if I spent 34 cents on a large donut and a free cup of coffee instead, that morning meal(?) would last me considerably longer. Five ounces of a skimpy salad cost nearly $4 but for $1, you can get a no-frills burger or two tacos and the list goes on. From my experience, it does cost more to eat healthy. Reported research has proven that there is a direct correlation between poor diet and cardiovascular diseases but if you are of limited means, you don't have any choice...which will further strain the health care system such as it is. And now, through clever marketing and stellar ethical corporate character, many of the developing nations are experiencing increases in cardiovascular ills. Pull right up and fill your draught animal up with water and for you, a 2 lb. triple cheeseburger with a bushel of French fries and a gallon of soda! It's almost as if the infrastructures of the food, health care and drug industries are working in tandem to drain the common man as much money as possible before 'contract termination'. Naw...can't be...must be my imagination...right?
On a side note - I read about a doctor in Kansas who strayed from the usual medical practice of prescribing medications to her diabetic patients. Instead, she advocated exercise and eating healthy - no fast foods, low carbs, less red meat. Within a short time, the majority of her diabetic patients were able to discontinue medications. Needless to say, her deviation from socially sanctioned treatment was frowned upon by her medical peers and I imagine the drug industry wasn't thrilled either.
From such heady paranoia, let's return to the more immediate arena of securing nourishment when you are of limited means. I mentioned before that some stores regularly put out samples to entice customers for further ingestion of massive quantities. In my experience, the majority of them present such artery cloggers as fried bacon, assorted cookies, beef, sometimes fried fish or shrimp, pieces of cake, bread and butter, chips and salsa, etc. Yes, when your empty stomach is banging against your spine, not unlike Bill and Monica, you don't give a rat's ass about the fat content, you desperately desire food molecules for immediate processing. However, I did find a store in my area that presents a much more healthful fare - strawberries, cherry tomatoes, pineapple, grapes of assorted kinds, blueberries, cantaloupes as well as chunks of chicken and turkey from the deli counter. You would not believe the quantity of meat that a toothpick can contain in the hands of a determined, seasoned master. I visit this store a couple of times a week, taking a shopping cart and putting a few items in it, wander by the sampling areas and ingest (chewing and swallowing viciously), pocket some items if possible (cherry tomatoes, cookies), put the grocery items back on the shelf while chewing, return the shopping cart to the staging area and walk out with a stomach processing healthy food molecules while saving a $1...which will go to fuel for BT or will be saved toward a pack of cheap smokes or a really, really cheap lap dance.
I read in the paper where those evil narcs seized nearly a million dollars of Jack Daniel's that was in the possession of an individual who was selling it without a license and were proceeding to dispose of it according to the agency's protocols - pouring it down the drain. The wail of anguish and despair that you might have noticed while executing your daily schedule last week originated in the Far North Dallas from me. I admit to a fondness for the sweet, sensuous, delicious bite of bourbon with a light splash of Coke on ice; a fondness that I haven't experienced in quite some time to be sure. But pour it down the drain!?! I mean, it's going to end up in the municipal sewer system eventually but can that gift from the gods be allowed to experience a more pleasant and beneficial route before returning to the comforting bosom of Mother Earth, to fulfill the task for which it was created? Someone needs to launch a public outcry, start a humanitarian effort, set up an adoption process or stage a drinking rally or something else equally symbolic to show that the public cares. Oh, the humanity...sigh...
It is my wish that you have a pleasant Thanksgiving, that you indulge in those sumptuous foodstuffs, that diets or work or ills or whatever take a day off. You made it this far, you earned it.
David
P.S.
A pox upon the evil narcs...
Hope you are doing well with much laughter and with a joyful tune in your heart or whatever anatomical part that you hold dear. Have you completed your preparations for the Thanksgiving Day feast? Did you venture into the deadly wild, stalking your prey without any technological advantages, wrestling that vicious bird to the ground in an epic death match, depriving it of its' life with your own bare hands or did you wimp out like the rest of us and drag a carcass home from the grocery store? I always did...
I think I did a good job waxing the truck some time back. At a couple of places where I park during the day, the birds pay a visit, landing near the driver's side and loiter about for a bit. Occasionally, one of them will land on the hood of the truck on the driver's side at the windshield wiper and look at me as if saying C'mon, get up off some of them crackers. A few days ago, one lit on that spot and took a step forward toward me and slipped and busted his ass on the slick surface. He promptly got up, ruffled his feathers and looked both ways as if checking to see if any of his flock companions saw that and then flew off. The ragging he must have received.
I filled out job applications at a couple of liquor stores this past Saturday. I talked with one of the hiring supervisors for a few minutes and he told me that the company has received several applications from people in the IT industry. Guess a lot of that is going around these days. Maybe one of these is the magic BB. Utilizing a suggestion from a benefactor, I touched base with a couple of places where I filled out a job application previously and talked with the managers, letting them know of my goals (kinda) and that I would be a contributing employee for a significant amount of time if hired. I had the impression that they would revisit their previous assumptions and decisions. Hopefully, those subsequent conversations will bear fruit and soon. It is starting to get kinda cold in these parts - it ain't as much fun to step outside for a smoke as much anymore. Meteorological sensor assets indicate that many of us will be feeling it across the nation for the next several days. I'm thinking that one of the first things that I'll do with the first check is rejoin an athletic club that I was a member of several years ago. In addition to the exercise opportunities, there are whirlpools, spas, lap pool, dry and wet saunas and hot shower options! That would be a pleasant change of pace. At the places that I frequent these days where my legal status to be there is highly questionable, I always have to have a line of bullshit ready in case I'm ever called on it. It'd be great to actually belong at a place for only $30 a month without having to look over my shoulder.
One of my evening parking places is no more due to the reopening of a popular restaurant. It had suffered fire damage of a questionable nature nearly two years ago and was being investigated for a time. I don't know what became of it but the patrons have returned in full force which means that there are too many people around for my comfort level. I found another one a couple of kilometers away near one of the library branches that I frequent that has adequate shade in a shopping center. It has worked out well so far but today I seemed to be the focus of some unwanted attention. One distraction was an older gentleman wanting to buy BT. He approached me before at another location and my response was the same - 'Nope'. I asked him what he would do with it because he appeared to me as a homebody (late 70's), not exactly an active sort. He replied that he wanted the truck for his 35 year old daughter who is a big fan of trucks for some reason. The next distraction was an older grey haired woman walking by a bit later and said something I couldn't understand due to her thick accent. It turned out that she wanted to give me 'a reading', which I assumed was something like telling my fortune, for $5 - at this point, I'll just see how things work out, thank you. I declined and she lowered her price to $3 which I again declined, citing financial hardship and she moved on. Lastly, a couple of guys in shirts and ties came by wanting to save my soul from the eternal ravages of Satan's 24 hour all-purpose spa and launched into their song and dance. I interrupted, telling them I appreciated their concern but I'm not wired that way and wished them a pleasant evening. Not taking the hint or maybe more concerned with the quality of their own everlasting participation in the afterlife, the other one tacked to the topic of a more fulfilling life upon this Earth and I again interrupted saying that their effort on this subject would be spent better with someone else and again wished them a pleasant evening and they left. Jeeezzz...I just wanted a quiet place to do a crossword or read or write. Hope this was a unique experience because it is a decent spot for my purposes...and I abhor violence...most of the time.
Let's talk of food and the quality and expense thereof. Before my entrance into this lifestyle, I've read/heard of the questionable value of a low cost diet and the concern that many segments of our society have about the national infrastructure, and its' management, that is tasked with supplying the citizens with quality foodstuffs; primarily, why it costs more to eat healthy and cheaper to eat fast food and/or junk food. Originally, I started out eating fruits, vegetables and salads as wanted or needed but as money got tighter, I discovered that I could spend far less at a fast food place and that meal would last me longer. For example, I could spend nearly a buck on an apple in the morning and by lunch, I needed something else to gnaw on. But if I spent 34 cents on a large donut and a free cup of coffee instead, that morning meal(?) would last me considerably longer. Five ounces of a skimpy salad cost nearly $4 but for $1, you can get a no-frills burger or two tacos and the list goes on. From my experience, it does cost more to eat healthy. Reported research has proven that there is a direct correlation between poor diet and cardiovascular diseases but if you are of limited means, you don't have any choice...which will further strain the health care system such as it is. And now, through clever marketing and stellar ethical corporate character, many of the developing nations are experiencing increases in cardiovascular ills. Pull right up and fill your draught animal up with water and for you, a 2 lb. triple cheeseburger with a bushel of French fries and a gallon of soda! It's almost as if the infrastructures of the food, health care and drug industries are working in tandem to drain the common man as much money as possible before 'contract termination'. Naw...can't be...must be my imagination...right?
On a side note - I read about a doctor in Kansas who strayed from the usual medical practice of prescribing medications to her diabetic patients. Instead, she advocated exercise and eating healthy - no fast foods, low carbs, less red meat. Within a short time, the majority of her diabetic patients were able to discontinue medications. Needless to say, her deviation from socially sanctioned treatment was frowned upon by her medical peers and I imagine the drug industry wasn't thrilled either.
From such heady paranoia, let's return to the more immediate arena of securing nourishment when you are of limited means. I mentioned before that some stores regularly put out samples to entice customers for further ingestion of massive quantities. In my experience, the majority of them present such artery cloggers as fried bacon, assorted cookies, beef, sometimes fried fish or shrimp, pieces of cake, bread and butter, chips and salsa, etc. Yes, when your empty stomach is banging against your spine, not unlike Bill and Monica, you don't give a rat's ass about the fat content, you desperately desire food molecules for immediate processing. However, I did find a store in my area that presents a much more healthful fare - strawberries, cherry tomatoes, pineapple, grapes of assorted kinds, blueberries, cantaloupes as well as chunks of chicken and turkey from the deli counter. You would not believe the quantity of meat that a toothpick can contain in the hands of a determined, seasoned master. I visit this store a couple of times a week, taking a shopping cart and putting a few items in it, wander by the sampling areas and ingest (chewing and swallowing viciously), pocket some items if possible (cherry tomatoes, cookies), put the grocery items back on the shelf while chewing, return the shopping cart to the staging area and walk out with a stomach processing healthy food molecules while saving a $1...which will go to fuel for BT or will be saved toward a pack of cheap smokes or a really, really cheap lap dance.
I read in the paper where those evil narcs seized nearly a million dollars of Jack Daniel's that was in the possession of an individual who was selling it without a license and were proceeding to dispose of it according to the agency's protocols - pouring it down the drain. The wail of anguish and despair that you might have noticed while executing your daily schedule last week originated in the Far North Dallas from me. I admit to a fondness for the sweet, sensuous, delicious bite of bourbon with a light splash of Coke on ice; a fondness that I haven't experienced in quite some time to be sure. But pour it down the drain!?! I mean, it's going to end up in the municipal sewer system eventually but can that gift from the gods be allowed to experience a more pleasant and beneficial route before returning to the comforting bosom of Mother Earth, to fulfill the task for which it was created? Someone needs to launch a public outcry, start a humanitarian effort, set up an adoption process or stage a drinking rally or something else equally symbolic to show that the public cares. Oh, the humanity...sigh...
It is my wish that you have a pleasant Thanksgiving, that you indulge in those sumptuous foodstuffs, that diets or work or ills or whatever take a day off. You made it this far, you earned it.
David
P.S.
A pox upon the evil narcs...
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Homeless - 39
Greetings, fellow terrestrial companions,
Hope your time is passing well, that your cup of laughter and loving doth indeed overflow upon thy carpet. With me, it could be better, could be worse.
I detailed Black Thunder last week, something I haven't done since my current lifestyle descended upon me in a such a gentle, soothing fashion. A benefactor loaned me some hand wax which was utilized to a devastating effect. For a couple of days, I was on the hunt for a free wash and vacuum but the opportunity didn't present itself so I girded the loins and spent $4.25 at a do-it-yourself thingy, one of those that beep at you constantly for more quarters, not unlike the bleating of a lap dancer at 2 AM on a Saturday night...from what I've read. After the initial wet down, I activated the foaming brush and commenced scrubbing BT like a rabid beaver under the influence of Peruvian marching powder. Afterward, I emptied the cab of contents and vacuumed the interior, experiencing some dismay at the quantity of grey hair that was present. I cleaned and conditioned the leather/vinyl interior which was very much needed - even broke out some Q-tips for a thorough cleansing of every crack and crevice in the cockpit...errr, the instrument dashboard. It did take some scouting to locate the necessary shade at 2 PM on a sunny Dallas day to properly execute the hand waxing procedure. After dressing the tires, cleaning the rims and windows...my god, what a machine! Post inspection revealed a spotless interior smelling factory fresh; an ebony hull that is slicker than snail snot, reflecting the surrounding environment with a depth and clarity rivaling showroom quality; in short, a technological entity pausing majestically in the cool shade awaiting to unleash the dormant power within. Of course, such cleaning always adds a few more horsepower. Wait...what's that I hear? But, David, you just cleaned the surfaces; you didn't do anything to the engine! Now, I could blind you with science by showing you a page and a half of mathematical equations straight from the discipline of quantum mechanics to prove my point but instead, I'm going to ask a question to illustrate. After a shower, pedicure, manicure, hair style, deep tissue massage, hot wet kisses, some knockdown/hair pulling/toe curling/screaming gorilla sex, etc. - don't you 'run better'? Yeah, I thought so...
There are several reoccurring elements in my world that I enjoy and one of them is a large cat that I have been seeing on a regular basis over the past several weeks. I have a couple of places that I pause at around dusk, both are public parking lots with retail activity nearby and plenty of traffic. I see the feline just after dusk at the the larger lot, walking close to vegetation that lines the concrete boundaries. Around 9 PM I retire to the camping spot and I see the same cat a bit later crossing that lot. There have been several times when I've been awake around 4:30 AM that I see that same cat retracing its route, presumably returning to home base. I've never seen it run or move furtively from cover to cover as I would have with so many fast moving vehicles with sometimes unpredictable vectors; oh no...this cat saunters across the lots with a sinewy confidence that it owns those properties and anything in its' territory is there only because of its' good graces...to which I am thankful. I can take on an oiled anaconda with pretty good odds of winning but a cat protecting its' territory is quite another thing and not to be entertained lightly.
OK, let's check the employment scorecard. I've been enduring this lifestyle for nearly 6 months. It doesn't seem that long from my perspective but I guess time flies when you having such a bitchin' disco time, eh? Of all the applications that I filled out, the last nibble is from a convenience store where I applied for a part time position. One of the personnel that works there told me that the store manager sent my application to corporate for the further processing and 'that I could be getting a call soon'. When I began dealing with this chapter in my life, I thought that I would have a job within 4 weeks at the very latest. Maybe that thought was a reflection of my over confidence and/or arrogance. Yes, I'm still optimistic, still have my sense of humor and have yet to sink to the depths of despair, apathy or any other dark demons that exist within the human ego. I can only speculate as to way I'm not yet unemployed:
1) Since my education and experience over qualifies me for the positions that I've been applying for, the hiring manager may have the idea that as soon as a position is offered in the IT field that I would return to the much higher salary and more challenging and satisfying work. That has a low probability of occurring if that option presented itself due to my previously stated goals. It has been suggested by a benefactor that I should let a prospective employer know of my goals and that I can be relied on to remain with them for an appreciable amount of time...which I will from this point forward on all job applications and/or when I talk with the hiring manager.
2) I thought that it might be because of my appearance - the long hair. Then I thought that it can't be that due to the many people these days that have tattoos and god-knows-what-body-parts skewered by whatever implement - long hair should be a non-issue. Hygiene is decent. I may not be a Brad Pitt but I'm not a Marty Feldman either.
3) I talked with a retired gentleman I see at the library frequently who volunteers with the DPL system one day about my employment situation. He mentioned that many managers do not want to hire someone whose education and business experience exceeds their own because it would intimidate them; they are afraid that they would be perceived as idiots and/or incompetent. I'm thinking that that may apply to some but surely not to all.
4) Maybe they noticed the length of time that I've been unemployed and have the idea that something is wrong with me, that I've been a guest of the state sharing a cell with Tyrone and Bubba or in a lavishly padded cell communicating with our fairy friends in the 8th dimension. It seems that they would at least check my references before jumping to conclusions; at least to fulfill a professional curiosity. And besides, I paid my references good money to embellish on my behalf.
Maybe I should expand the boundaries of my search and reconsider some occupations that I have excluded due to some personal moral difficulty that I would have performing those duties. I've read, from more that one source, where approximately 3 out of 4 people hate their job. The surveys didn't go into detail about the 'whys'. Was it because of the corporate policies, the industry the corporation was in, managerial dysfunction and/or ineptness, unsatisfactory interpersonal relationships with co-workers, extended work hours or work not suited to their liking/skill set? Regardless, it is a pity that so much time is utilized at an effort that is not fulfilling. I know, I know...bills have to paid but the price that that kind of job extracts from us in an emotional/psychological context could be viewed as horrendously expensive to our well-being. Should I sacrifice a part of myself, as 3 out of 4 people do, and go to an environment that I dislike? I don't want to spend my remaining time that way. Ah well....in the meantime, I'll keep forging ahead with what I have and who I am.
A few nights ago, I had a craving for a sweet. Rummaging through BT's on board pantry yielded a fortune cookie that I had no idea of how long its' been there but it did satisfy my sweet tooth. I read the fortune - 'You will never need to worry about a steady income'. To say that that tidbit provided me with a few moments of mirth would be a gross understatement. My abs were a bit tender the next day from my ensuring laughter. If anyone was around to observe my behavior at that time, they would have concluded that I was nuts and readied a hypo of Thorazine. I haven't laughed like that in awhile, to which I give thanks to the spirit of the universe. Now, that fortune could be interpreted a few ways: a) that an 'abrupt contract termination', or variation thereof, is imminent, b) that significant financial resources will soon be at my disposal, c) that I will delete the element of worry from my life and/or d) we all are going to die a horrible death at the slimy tentacles of the invading hostile alien space armada.
In the event of 'd', all I can say is good luck to ya'll at the Armageddon hoedown.
David
Hope your time is passing well, that your cup of laughter and loving doth indeed overflow upon thy carpet. With me, it could be better, could be worse.
I detailed Black Thunder last week, something I haven't done since my current lifestyle descended upon me in a such a gentle, soothing fashion. A benefactor loaned me some hand wax which was utilized to a devastating effect. For a couple of days, I was on the hunt for a free wash and vacuum but the opportunity didn't present itself so I girded the loins and spent $4.25 at a do-it-yourself thingy, one of those that beep at you constantly for more quarters, not unlike the bleating of a lap dancer at 2 AM on a Saturday night...from what I've read. After the initial wet down, I activated the foaming brush and commenced scrubbing BT like a rabid beaver under the influence of Peruvian marching powder. Afterward, I emptied the cab of contents and vacuumed the interior, experiencing some dismay at the quantity of grey hair that was present. I cleaned and conditioned the leather/vinyl interior which was very much needed - even broke out some Q-tips for a thorough cleansing of every crack and crevice in the cockpit...errr, the instrument dashboard. It did take some scouting to locate the necessary shade at 2 PM on a sunny Dallas day to properly execute the hand waxing procedure. After dressing the tires, cleaning the rims and windows...my god, what a machine! Post inspection revealed a spotless interior smelling factory fresh; an ebony hull that is slicker than snail snot, reflecting the surrounding environment with a depth and clarity rivaling showroom quality; in short, a technological entity pausing majestically in the cool shade awaiting to unleash the dormant power within. Of course, such cleaning always adds a few more horsepower. Wait...what's that I hear? But, David, you just cleaned the surfaces; you didn't do anything to the engine! Now, I could blind you with science by showing you a page and a half of mathematical equations straight from the discipline of quantum mechanics to prove my point but instead, I'm going to ask a question to illustrate. After a shower, pedicure, manicure, hair style, deep tissue massage, hot wet kisses, some knockdown/hair pulling/toe curling/screaming gorilla sex, etc. - don't you 'run better'? Yeah, I thought so...
There are several reoccurring elements in my world that I enjoy and one of them is a large cat that I have been seeing on a regular basis over the past several weeks. I have a couple of places that I pause at around dusk, both are public parking lots with retail activity nearby and plenty of traffic. I see the feline just after dusk at the the larger lot, walking close to vegetation that lines the concrete boundaries. Around 9 PM I retire to the camping spot and I see the same cat a bit later crossing that lot. There have been several times when I've been awake around 4:30 AM that I see that same cat retracing its route, presumably returning to home base. I've never seen it run or move furtively from cover to cover as I would have with so many fast moving vehicles with sometimes unpredictable vectors; oh no...this cat saunters across the lots with a sinewy confidence that it owns those properties and anything in its' territory is there only because of its' good graces...to which I am thankful. I can take on an oiled anaconda with pretty good odds of winning but a cat protecting its' territory is quite another thing and not to be entertained lightly.
OK, let's check the employment scorecard. I've been enduring this lifestyle for nearly 6 months. It doesn't seem that long from my perspective but I guess time flies when you having such a bitchin' disco time, eh? Of all the applications that I filled out, the last nibble is from a convenience store where I applied for a part time position. One of the personnel that works there told me that the store manager sent my application to corporate for the further processing and 'that I could be getting a call soon'. When I began dealing with this chapter in my life, I thought that I would have a job within 4 weeks at the very latest. Maybe that thought was a reflection of my over confidence and/or arrogance. Yes, I'm still optimistic, still have my sense of humor and have yet to sink to the depths of despair, apathy or any other dark demons that exist within the human ego. I can only speculate as to way I'm not yet unemployed:
1) Since my education and experience over qualifies me for the positions that I've been applying for, the hiring manager may have the idea that as soon as a position is offered in the IT field that I would return to the much higher salary and more challenging and satisfying work. That has a low probability of occurring if that option presented itself due to my previously stated goals. It has been suggested by a benefactor that I should let a prospective employer know of my goals and that I can be relied on to remain with them for an appreciable amount of time...which I will from this point forward on all job applications and/or when I talk with the hiring manager.
2) I thought that it might be because of my appearance - the long hair. Then I thought that it can't be that due to the many people these days that have tattoos and god-knows-what-body-parts skewered by whatever implement - long hair should be a non-issue. Hygiene is decent. I may not be a Brad Pitt but I'm not a Marty Feldman either.
3) I talked with a retired gentleman I see at the library frequently who volunteers with the DPL system one day about my employment situation. He mentioned that many managers do not want to hire someone whose education and business experience exceeds their own because it would intimidate them; they are afraid that they would be perceived as idiots and/or incompetent. I'm thinking that that may apply to some but surely not to all.
4) Maybe they noticed the length of time that I've been unemployed and have the idea that something is wrong with me, that I've been a guest of the state sharing a cell with Tyrone and Bubba or in a lavishly padded cell communicating with our fairy friends in the 8th dimension. It seems that they would at least check my references before jumping to conclusions; at least to fulfill a professional curiosity. And besides, I paid my references good money to embellish on my behalf.
Maybe I should expand the boundaries of my search and reconsider some occupations that I have excluded due to some personal moral difficulty that I would have performing those duties. I've read, from more that one source, where approximately 3 out of 4 people hate their job. The surveys didn't go into detail about the 'whys'. Was it because of the corporate policies, the industry the corporation was in, managerial dysfunction and/or ineptness, unsatisfactory interpersonal relationships with co-workers, extended work hours or work not suited to their liking/skill set? Regardless, it is a pity that so much time is utilized at an effort that is not fulfilling. I know, I know...bills have to paid but the price that that kind of job extracts from us in an emotional/psychological context could be viewed as horrendously expensive to our well-being. Should I sacrifice a part of myself, as 3 out of 4 people do, and go to an environment that I dislike? I don't want to spend my remaining time that way. Ah well....in the meantime, I'll keep forging ahead with what I have and who I am.
A few nights ago, I had a craving for a sweet. Rummaging through BT's on board pantry yielded a fortune cookie that I had no idea of how long its' been there but it did satisfy my sweet tooth. I read the fortune - 'You will never need to worry about a steady income'. To say that that tidbit provided me with a few moments of mirth would be a gross understatement. My abs were a bit tender the next day from my ensuring laughter. If anyone was around to observe my behavior at that time, they would have concluded that I was nuts and readied a hypo of Thorazine. I haven't laughed like that in awhile, to which I give thanks to the spirit of the universe. Now, that fortune could be interpreted a few ways: a) that an 'abrupt contract termination', or variation thereof, is imminent, b) that significant financial resources will soon be at my disposal, c) that I will delete the element of worry from my life and/or d) we all are going to die a horrible death at the slimy tentacles of the invading hostile alien space armada.
In the event of 'd', all I can say is good luck to ya'll at the Armageddon hoedown.
David
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Homeless - 38
Trick or Treat, fellow ghouls, goblins, witches, sorcerers, Jedi knights,
It is the time for the changing of the seasons. The sun, which used to be a blistering adversary to contend with, is now our treasured ally especially in the early morning hours, helping to get the vital juices circulating within my young supple body. The paths of the moon and sun across the sky have changed due to an alteration in the planetary tilt which is a handy thing to know when you are trying to locate a shady spot in a part of town that has depressingly few trees. I know of a pool that has plenty of shade but the lowered temperatures exclude that option for the foreseeable future.
Halloween used to be a good time to live in a apartment complex - chance to revisit with neighbors made during the summer and make new pool friends. During that night I would prop the door open and have the TV tuned to a Halloween themed movie (,screams, blood, body parts everywhere). All the little munchkins would come by dressed in their costumes yelling 'Trick or Treat!' and I would chunk a handful of candy in each of their bags and I would offer the accompanying adult(s) a can of beer and/or a shot of whiskey which was taken more often that not. Of course, I was imbibing myself and wearing a gorilla mask or some silly clip on thingy over my head. Any candy left over would be taken to the office the next business day where the last vestige would be obliterated by the adult humans... or those life forms masquerading as such. That hasn't happened in the last few years due to, in my opinion, child predation and lack of community responsibility. These days, kids have to look over their shoulder for unsavory characters that may be following and use a Star Trek tricorder to assay their haul for the night to check for any toxic ingredients. Ahhh, the good ol' days when all we carried was a sawed off 12 gauge pump for the occasional night critter...sigh.
You probably wondering about my shoe situation since the last time that subject was available for discussion was some time ago and the weather is a bit cooler these days. If you recall, I was down to one pair, the ones that I used in that week long manual labor project. They were recalling better days and so was I, due to the noticeable lack of 'new shoe' aroma. Some things even a cedar shoe horn can't stop. I saw an ad in the paper by a bank that if you opened an account with them you'd receive a sizable gift certificate to a sporting goods store. So I rolled the dice, opened an account to receive the certificate, went to the specified store and, lo and behold, they had my size and my usual brand; the only pair left - I got lucky. The old pair are now taking a break in a garage in North Dallas and I'm hoping that they can be returned to service without the ...unpleasant attributes that they have acquired in their long and loyal tenure. They should feel fortunate that they have a second chance, unlike a previous pair that came to a undeserved and ghastly end.
Let's talk about gas; no, silly, I'm talking about fuel for the truck. I've heard of people's experiences with cheap fuel and the deleterious effects it had on their vehicles but never had to contend with that myself since I was a loyal customer to a brand at the time. Since the fuel budget has somewhat tightened recently, I've been fueling BT at a place that sells gas that is usually a dime per gallon cheaper. My point-of-view was that fuel was fuel; that the only difference was the additives that were mixed in by the oil companies to better serve their customer's needs and, hopefully, establish a long and lasting relationship that encouraged repeat business. It seems that I was wrong about that, too. Over the past 4 weeks, I noticed that BT didn't quite start up per her usual norm. In the past, a half-second turn of the ignition and the engine was deeply purring with the promise of barely restrained power and the rest of the vehicle deploying like the Batmobile - sensors and offensive/defensive systems online and tracking, probing the environment for threats, seeking targets to lock on to and...never mind. But lately,she has been sluggish to start, not unlike me on a recent chilly morning. I was thinking, Great, I need a new starter. However, the past 12 - 15 gallons of fuel that were used came form one of the top 4 fuel companies since the price per gallon was less than a couple of pennies difference. This past weekend we had the opportunity to help move a washer/dryer to a location nearly 30 miles distant. On the return trip while entering the freeway system, I thought what the hell, it's been a while since I let BT rampage and punched it. I checked the aft sensor sensor array (right rear view mirror) for any pursuing hostile alien deep space heavy fights (cops) on my six and I saw a puff of smoke spew from BT's exhaust system but she was accelerating without any engine components making noise or falling off and there were no flashing alarms in the cockpit....errr, instrument panel. I thought, hmmm. A few miles down the road, I got off at an exit and got back on the expressway, again an ebon blur screaming at full throttle. This time, no cloud of foulness obscuring the rear 180 degree field of vision. Since then, her start up behavior has returned to normal. At 4:53 AM this past Wednesday, after a satisfying ignition sequence, her on board offensive systems came online instantly, located and locked on to a cat crossing the parking lot. Fortunately, I was able to disengage the autonomous fire control authorization protocols and the unsuspecting feline survived without losing one of its' lives So I guess the lessons here are: a) don't put any cheapness in your fuel tank and b) every now and then, ride like the wind. Remember, it's not just your transport, it's also your home.
And talking of another lucky break. Late last week, while visiting a grocery store for coffee and doughnut, I spotted a card in the parking lot; it was a Target Gift card that was a bit scuffed up and I started to return it to its' resting place but there was a tremble in the Force and I kept it.Target sells a large 2 lb. jar of dry roasted peanuts for $5 and this is a handy staple to have around if your food budget had undergone a recent reduction also. A handful at mid-morning, maybe an oat and honey granola bar for a late lunch and another handful of peanuts around dusk, with a Dr. Pepper to wash it down, and you're good for the day without spending a cent. Anyway, I was out of that manna and had planned to replenish regardless of the content of the gift card; hell, even a few cents would have been welcome. As it turned out, there was over $4 on the card. I made the purchase, thanked the spirit of the universe for the gift and entered the peanuts into the inventory of BT's on board food locker.
In my reading, I've come across of more than one news item regarding the enviable plights of some young notables in the entertainment industry; of how they're screwing up, that they are going to burn in hell, that the fate of this very planet hinges upon their well-being, etc. I haven't read one word of about what you are...about to read but it is not be taken as an excuse for their behavior; rather an attempt to perspectize things. Consider the following...
1) They are filthy rich, so loaded with money that they could buy an Amazonian pygmy to light up their bong hits with a $100 bill. They could buy a case of high-end beer, drink a bottle and throw the rest of the case away, etc. And they are still making more money in a month than you and I could possibly make in a couple of decades. Hell, their dawgs eat better than a lot of humans. Finances are how a lot of people measure success.
2) Consider the industry and the environment they're in. They're idolized by millions who are blinded by the glitter and lifestyle, material possessions and fame. They can do no wrong. If you don't think that affects the evolving sense of self and maturation in those idols, I have some prime land on Pluto that I will sell you cheap right now.
3) They are young and their decision making processes may not appear straight forward to the rest of us who are not as rich or famous. So they like to party just as many people do at that age. Let's see...experimenting with drugs, consuming massive quantities of alcohol, going without knickers, shaving their heads, making poor decisions, dancing the night away, passing out in vehicles, puking their young guts out, hanging with the wrong crowd, forays into the sexual arena...yep, been there, done that (not the head shaving thingy) and so have many, many other people who turn out OK later. As they mature, they will realize that some of those elements are not necessary and/or satisfying and delete them from their lives. I believe that is called growing up.
4) And lastly, they are being forced into rehab. The above three items are par for the course considering the current infrastructure of their lives but this item is the one that really triggers my aggression circuits to battle stations. As I said before, they are young, impressionable and malleable and it seems to me that they are being coerced into this alternative. Given enough time (and they have the money), they would probably grow out of the need to express themselves in such a destructive manner and discover other ways to share themselves in more positive, more satisfying life-affirming expressions. My one serious transgression involving municipal authorities (1988) was doing 55 mph in a 40 mph speed zone at 3 AM while appreciably hammered to which I was the proud recipient of a court mandated participation in a 4 week rehab Monday thru Thursday, 6 PM - 10 PM, with a required attendance of an AA meeting on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. And, of course, I had to pay for the rehab - after all, it's the American way. I was grouped in that rehab with, to name a few; a guy who was abusive toward women drunk or sober, a guy who had a fondness for getting drunk and raping women, a woman who had inclinations for sexually abusing young boys under the influence, a guy who continually attempted to transform the relationship with his sister to one of a romantic nature (booze was not a factor) and last but not least, a guy that was sleeping with another guy who supplied him with 'heeavy' drugs and then killed his supplier when he found out that his supplier enjoyed other similar relationships. And there I was, Snow White, blinking wide eyed innocence in the corner within a room full of wolves unwilling to subscribe to their interpretation of me, that I was sick and needed help. I was originally scheduled for a 4 week 'readjustment' but due to my charming personality, sense of humor, good looks and unwillingness to say that I was sick and needed help, I had the august honor of spending an additional 3 weeks in that nurturing environment which ended with me still unwilling to say that I was sick and needed help. Looking back, it would've been prudent of them to check me for weapons at each meeting - could've saved some tax payers' money and possible future victims. Maybe they changed but I don't know. I'm of the mind that people don't change unless deep within their heart and within the privacy of their thoughts, they would rather die than to continue to live they way they are living, thinking and behaving; not just from an intellectual basis but an emotional one as well. Perhaps now you can see how the comment about the 'aggression circuits' was birthed. Before you successful rehabers come for me with torches and pitchforks, I'm not saying rehab is a bad thing; it can be beneficial if the individual arrives at that conclusion unaided, without being pressured or manipulated. Hmmmm...maybe their rehab environment is a bit more upscale than mine was...with chair massages twice a day and pedicure. Oh, well.
I neglected to mention the hitchhiking grasshopper I picked somewhere along the way back from the washer/dryer relocation. He/she/it was latched on to the passenger side windshield wiper, facing forward and maintained that position the entire journey despite the skin shredding velocities and the exoskeleton shattering G forces that had to be the ride of its' life. It maintained that position even as I went to sleep that night, no doubt serving as a temporary guardian of honor to keep me from harm lest any foul, despicable evil should strike in the cool, still darkness. It was gone in the morning when I awoke before the dawn. It had probably travelled further than any of its kin, leaving the comfort and safety of hearth and home to explore, to see what was beyond the next horizon, to experience new vistas of knowledge and wonder. Abandoning forever everything and everyone, armed only with a thirst for discovery, its' own audacity and determination, it struck out in the ultimate adventure knowing that at the end its' journey, the greatest predator of all would be waiting to welcome it, and that it would die alone...so far from home.
Do not ask how that makes me feel or I will be coming for you.
Have a pleasant evening,
David
Note to the DEA:
The phrases 'experimenting with drugs' and 'bong hit' were merely contextual embellishments with absolutely no credible foundation in the experience of myself, anyone I knew, currently know or will know in my remaining time on this planet.
Note to the Highway Patrol:
I probably overstated the 'Warp 80+' comment. I was merely keeping pace with the traffic around me. The 'ride like wind' comment was not an encouragement to disregard legal mandates regarding speed; merely, to enjoy the road touring experience within socially sanctioned boundaries of safety and fuel conservation.
It is the time for the changing of the seasons. The sun, which used to be a blistering adversary to contend with, is now our treasured ally especially in the early morning hours, helping to get the vital juices circulating within my young supple body. The paths of the moon and sun across the sky have changed due to an alteration in the planetary tilt which is a handy thing to know when you are trying to locate a shady spot in a part of town that has depressingly few trees. I know of a pool that has plenty of shade but the lowered temperatures exclude that option for the foreseeable future.
Halloween used to be a good time to live in a apartment complex - chance to revisit with neighbors made during the summer and make new pool friends. During that night I would prop the door open and have the TV tuned to a Halloween themed movie (,screams, blood, body parts everywhere). All the little munchkins would come by dressed in their costumes yelling 'Trick or Treat!' and I would chunk a handful of candy in each of their bags and I would offer the accompanying adult(s) a can of beer and/or a shot of whiskey which was taken more often that not. Of course, I was imbibing myself and wearing a gorilla mask or some silly clip on thingy over my head. Any candy left over would be taken to the office the next business day where the last vestige would be obliterated by the adult humans... or those life forms masquerading as such. That hasn't happened in the last few years due to, in my opinion, child predation and lack of community responsibility. These days, kids have to look over their shoulder for unsavory characters that may be following and use a Star Trek tricorder to assay their haul for the night to check for any toxic ingredients. Ahhh, the good ol' days when all we carried was a sawed off 12 gauge pump for the occasional night critter...sigh.
You probably wondering about my shoe situation since the last time that subject was available for discussion was some time ago and the weather is a bit cooler these days. If you recall, I was down to one pair, the ones that I used in that week long manual labor project. They were recalling better days and so was I, due to the noticeable lack of 'new shoe' aroma. Some things even a cedar shoe horn can't stop. I saw an ad in the paper by a bank that if you opened an account with them you'd receive a sizable gift certificate to a sporting goods store. So I rolled the dice, opened an account to receive the certificate, went to the specified store and, lo and behold, they had my size and my usual brand; the only pair left - I got lucky. The old pair are now taking a break in a garage in North Dallas and I'm hoping that they can be returned to service without the ...unpleasant attributes that they have acquired in their long and loyal tenure. They should feel fortunate that they have a second chance, unlike a previous pair that came to a undeserved and ghastly end.
Let's talk about gas; no, silly, I'm talking about fuel for the truck. I've heard of people's experiences with cheap fuel and the deleterious effects it had on their vehicles but never had to contend with that myself since I was a loyal customer to a brand at the time. Since the fuel budget has somewhat tightened recently, I've been fueling BT at a place that sells gas that is usually a dime per gallon cheaper. My point-of-view was that fuel was fuel; that the only difference was the additives that were mixed in by the oil companies to better serve their customer's needs and, hopefully, establish a long and lasting relationship that encouraged repeat business. It seems that I was wrong about that, too. Over the past 4 weeks, I noticed that BT didn't quite start up per her usual norm. In the past, a half-second turn of the ignition and the engine was deeply purring with the promise of barely restrained power and the rest of the vehicle deploying like the Batmobile - sensors and offensive/defensive systems online and tracking, probing the environment for threats, seeking targets to lock on to and...never mind. But lately,she has been sluggish to start, not unlike me on a recent chilly morning. I was thinking, Great, I need a new starter. However, the past 12 - 15 gallons of fuel that were used came form one of the top 4 fuel companies since the price per gallon was less than a couple of pennies difference. This past weekend we had the opportunity to help move a washer/dryer to a location nearly 30 miles distant. On the return trip while entering the freeway system, I thought what the hell, it's been a while since I let BT rampage and punched it. I checked the aft sensor sensor array (right rear view mirror) for any pursuing hostile alien deep space heavy fights (cops) on my six and I saw a puff of smoke spew from BT's exhaust system but she was accelerating without any engine components making noise or falling off and there were no flashing alarms in the cockpit....errr, instrument panel. I thought, hmmm. A few miles down the road, I got off at an exit and got back on the expressway, again an ebon blur screaming at full throttle. This time, no cloud of foulness obscuring the rear 180 degree field of vision. Since then, her start up behavior has returned to normal. At 4:53 AM this past Wednesday, after a satisfying ignition sequence, her on board offensive systems came online instantly, located and locked on to a cat crossing the parking lot. Fortunately, I was able to disengage the autonomous fire control authorization protocols and the unsuspecting feline survived without losing one of its' lives So I guess the lessons here are: a) don't put any cheapness in your fuel tank and b) every now and then, ride like the wind. Remember, it's not just your transport, it's also your home.
And talking of another lucky break. Late last week, while visiting a grocery store for coffee and doughnut, I spotted a card in the parking lot; it was a Target Gift card that was a bit scuffed up and I started to return it to its' resting place but there was a tremble in the Force and I kept it.Target sells a large 2 lb. jar of dry roasted peanuts for $5 and this is a handy staple to have around if your food budget had undergone a recent reduction also. A handful at mid-morning, maybe an oat and honey granola bar for a late lunch and another handful of peanuts around dusk, with a Dr. Pepper to wash it down, and you're good for the day without spending a cent. Anyway, I was out of that manna and had planned to replenish regardless of the content of the gift card; hell, even a few cents would have been welcome. As it turned out, there was over $4 on the card. I made the purchase, thanked the spirit of the universe for the gift and entered the peanuts into the inventory of BT's on board food locker.
In my reading, I've come across of more than one news item regarding the enviable plights of some young notables in the entertainment industry; of how they're screwing up, that they are going to burn in hell, that the fate of this very planet hinges upon their well-being, etc. I haven't read one word of about what you are...about to read but it is not be taken as an excuse for their behavior; rather an attempt to perspectize things. Consider the following...
1) They are filthy rich, so loaded with money that they could buy an Amazonian pygmy to light up their bong hits with a $100 bill. They could buy a case of high-end beer, drink a bottle and throw the rest of the case away, etc. And they are still making more money in a month than you and I could possibly make in a couple of decades. Hell, their dawgs eat better than a lot of humans. Finances are how a lot of people measure success.
2) Consider the industry and the environment they're in. They're idolized by millions who are blinded by the glitter and lifestyle, material possessions and fame. They can do no wrong. If you don't think that affects the evolving sense of self and maturation in those idols, I have some prime land on Pluto that I will sell you cheap right now.
3) They are young and their decision making processes may not appear straight forward to the rest of us who are not as rich or famous. So they like to party just as many people do at that age. Let's see...experimenting with drugs, consuming massive quantities of alcohol, going without knickers, shaving their heads, making poor decisions, dancing the night away, passing out in vehicles, puking their young guts out, hanging with the wrong crowd, forays into the sexual arena...yep, been there, done that (not the head shaving thingy) and so have many, many other people who turn out OK later. As they mature, they will realize that some of those elements are not necessary and/or satisfying and delete them from their lives. I believe that is called growing up.
4) And lastly, they are being forced into rehab. The above three items are par for the course considering the current infrastructure of their lives but this item is the one that really triggers my aggression circuits to battle stations. As I said before, they are young, impressionable and malleable and it seems to me that they are being coerced into this alternative. Given enough time (and they have the money), they would probably grow out of the need to express themselves in such a destructive manner and discover other ways to share themselves in more positive, more satisfying life-affirming expressions. My one serious transgression involving municipal authorities (1988) was doing 55 mph in a 40 mph speed zone at 3 AM while appreciably hammered to which I was the proud recipient of a court mandated participation in a 4 week rehab Monday thru Thursday, 6 PM - 10 PM, with a required attendance of an AA meeting on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. And, of course, I had to pay for the rehab - after all, it's the American way. I was grouped in that rehab with, to name a few; a guy who was abusive toward women drunk or sober, a guy who had a fondness for getting drunk and raping women, a woman who had inclinations for sexually abusing young boys under the influence, a guy who continually attempted to transform the relationship with his sister to one of a romantic nature (booze was not a factor) and last but not least, a guy that was sleeping with another guy who supplied him with 'heeavy' drugs and then killed his supplier when he found out that his supplier enjoyed other similar relationships. And there I was, Snow White, blinking wide eyed innocence in the corner within a room full of wolves unwilling to subscribe to their interpretation of me, that I was sick and needed help. I was originally scheduled for a 4 week 'readjustment' but due to my charming personality, sense of humor, good looks and unwillingness to say that I was sick and needed help, I had the august honor of spending an additional 3 weeks in that nurturing environment which ended with me still unwilling to say that I was sick and needed help. Looking back, it would've been prudent of them to check me for weapons at each meeting - could've saved some tax payers' money and possible future victims. Maybe they changed but I don't know. I'm of the mind that people don't change unless deep within their heart and within the privacy of their thoughts, they would rather die than to continue to live they way they are living, thinking and behaving; not just from an intellectual basis but an emotional one as well. Perhaps now you can see how the comment about the 'aggression circuits' was birthed. Before you successful rehabers come for me with torches and pitchforks, I'm not saying rehab is a bad thing; it can be beneficial if the individual arrives at that conclusion unaided, without being pressured or manipulated. Hmmmm...maybe their rehab environment is a bit more upscale than mine was...with chair massages twice a day and pedicure. Oh, well.
I neglected to mention the hitchhiking grasshopper I picked somewhere along the way back from the washer/dryer relocation. He/she/it was latched on to the passenger side windshield wiper, facing forward and maintained that position the entire journey despite the skin shredding velocities and the exoskeleton shattering G forces that had to be the ride of its' life. It maintained that position even as I went to sleep that night, no doubt serving as a temporary guardian of honor to keep me from harm lest any foul, despicable evil should strike in the cool, still darkness. It was gone in the morning when I awoke before the dawn. It had probably travelled further than any of its kin, leaving the comfort and safety of hearth and home to explore, to see what was beyond the next horizon, to experience new vistas of knowledge and wonder. Abandoning forever everything and everyone, armed only with a thirst for discovery, its' own audacity and determination, it struck out in the ultimate adventure knowing that at the end its' journey, the greatest predator of all would be waiting to welcome it, and that it would die alone...so far from home.
Do not ask how that makes me feel or I will be coming for you.
Have a pleasant evening,
David
Note to the DEA:
The phrases 'experimenting with drugs' and 'bong hit' were merely contextual embellishments with absolutely no credible foundation in the experience of myself, anyone I knew, currently know or will know in my remaining time on this planet.
Note to the Highway Patrol:
I probably overstated the 'Warp 80+' comment. I was merely keeping pace with the traffic around me. The 'ride like wind' comment was not an encouragement to disregard legal mandates regarding speed; merely, to enjoy the road touring experience within socially sanctioned boundaries of safety and fuel conservation.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Homeless - 37
Heeeyyy, Boo-Boo,
Welcome to the world of the New England Patriots. They were gracious enough to allow Dallas to study at the their feet of greatness. I'm usually a KC fan but when asked who's my favorite, I respond with the Chiefs and any team that's playing the Cowboys; I don't care if its' the sixth grade Brownie troop, I'm pulling for them. Since the Patriots won me a sizable chunk of money when they beat the Rams in the SuperBowl many moons ago, I have since been responding that I have three favorites. I read about the game in Monday's paper since the big screen is inoperative aboard Black Thunder.
Late last week, I saw out one-legged bird friend, Lefty. He/she/it is doing much, much better; doesn't look like it had been rassling with a couple of pissed off cats. The feathers are full and lustrous, has a shine in its' eyes, a smile in its' heart and is hopping about on one leg just fine - and can fly with the best of them. Hope he/she/it makes it through the winter. I'll keep some crackers available if I can.
There are times when I'm parked that I have to step outside the truck to...take care of things...and when I open the door, the interior light comes on and stays on for 30 seconds. I have mentioned my desire to not be noticed, to be as a ghost navigating through the chaos of the civilized world, to blend into the environment like a feather on a duck's back. Well, it's getting darker earlier these days. I usually time my exits when there is a high probability that no human eye is turned in my direction. During one dark evening, I was wishing that there was a way to turn off the interior light without sacrificing the electrical integrity of the on board systems when my eyes fell upon a switch on the instrument panel that was labeled 'Dome Light Off'. I depressed it to another position, where it stayed, and opened the door. No light! There are times when I'm such an eeeediot! Now I can exit the cab in the darkness without a beacon advertising activity in my area when I exit to...take care of things. I need to re-read the owner's manual. Maybe there is a deployable satellite dish within the infrastructure of this magnificent machine.
Al Gore won the Nobel Peace Prize?!? Ahem! Did he create global warming, too? I don't have anything against the guy but...the Nobel Peace Prize? There's data that suggests humanity's involvement in that phenomena but not all the scientific types are on board with that idea. What was the criteria for awarding him - being a front man for the scientific community? I don't get it; it's like mixing cheese and ice cream. They could have awarded it to the person who brought everlasting peace to the Middle East. Wait.. that hasn't happened yet. OK...they could have awarded it to the person who solved world hunger...hang on, that hasn't happened either. They could...never mind...I got nutin'.
This past Saturday, I pitched in on a moving project. I helped a human female move from a third story apartment to a house. The day was perfect for it; low 80's, light breeze, clear sky, the birds were singing and the children were frolicking but we were dripping sweat by 11 AM loading up the UHaul. There was enough griminess, stickiness, saltiness, etc. on us for several other bipeds with opposable thumbs. I had a couple of beers (the good kind that has longer fermentation protocols) at evening's end and I was out. I was so tired that if I was sleeping with someone, I would've stayed on my side of the bed that night. There were a couple of bruises on my arms due to uncooperative furniture, minor things, but the biggie was sore legs, not arms or upper body tissues. The quadicepticus...ehh, quadricactus...anyway, the front part of the legs between the knees and the groin (thank god that's ok!) were very sore. Any movement that involved those muscle groups also involved some teeth gritting. The past couple of days I stayed away from stairs except for the hot tub and getting out was much easier than getting in. Unfolding from the truck in the morning and taking a few steps surely brought some mirth to the watching gods. Lowering the physical frame to a sitting position and rising from such a position required a focus of mind configured for enduring burning discomfit. One has to wonder about the aftermath if I didn't work out regularly. Body cast, Valium and a bedpan?
Well, it's getting late and dark. The lights haven't come on in the parking lot where I'm camping for the night; they're usually activated by this time. The vehicle is backed up to the rear of the convenience store, close to the infamous grassy knoll, where the store lights illuminate this portion of the lot. I'm using that light to write this entry. It should be OK but I feel more noticeable, somewhat more exposed. Ah, well. Earlier, the northwestern horizon was darkening, promising to unleash its gathering, elemental fury like it did during the Monday morning commute. In these parts, we call that type of heavy rain a 'frog strangler'; probably caused an accident or two. So if that does happen again during tomorrow morning's commute, remember to set your vehicle's force field to high. I'm thinking a setting of an 8 terra watt intensity should suffice to repel anything that intercepts your vector such as squirrels, semis or the occasional pedestrian.
Happy trails to you,
David
Welcome to the world of the New England Patriots. They were gracious enough to allow Dallas to study at the their feet of greatness. I'm usually a KC fan but when asked who's my favorite, I respond with the Chiefs and any team that's playing the Cowboys; I don't care if its' the sixth grade Brownie troop, I'm pulling for them. Since the Patriots won me a sizable chunk of money when they beat the Rams in the SuperBowl many moons ago, I have since been responding that I have three favorites. I read about the game in Monday's paper since the big screen is inoperative aboard Black Thunder.
Late last week, I saw out one-legged bird friend, Lefty. He/she/it is doing much, much better; doesn't look like it had been rassling with a couple of pissed off cats. The feathers are full and lustrous, has a shine in its' eyes, a smile in its' heart and is hopping about on one leg just fine - and can fly with the best of them. Hope he/she/it makes it through the winter. I'll keep some crackers available if I can.
There are times when I'm parked that I have to step outside the truck to...take care of things...and when I open the door, the interior light comes on and stays on for 30 seconds. I have mentioned my desire to not be noticed, to be as a ghost navigating through the chaos of the civilized world, to blend into the environment like a feather on a duck's back. Well, it's getting darker earlier these days. I usually time my exits when there is a high probability that no human eye is turned in my direction. During one dark evening, I was wishing that there was a way to turn off the interior light without sacrificing the electrical integrity of the on board systems when my eyes fell upon a switch on the instrument panel that was labeled 'Dome Light Off'. I depressed it to another position, where it stayed, and opened the door. No light! There are times when I'm such an eeeediot! Now I can exit the cab in the darkness without a beacon advertising activity in my area when I exit to...take care of things. I need to re-read the owner's manual. Maybe there is a deployable satellite dish within the infrastructure of this magnificent machine.
Al Gore won the Nobel Peace Prize?!? Ahem! Did he create global warming, too? I don't have anything against the guy but...the Nobel Peace Prize? There's data that suggests humanity's involvement in that phenomena but not all the scientific types are on board with that idea. What was the criteria for awarding him - being a front man for the scientific community? I don't get it; it's like mixing cheese and ice cream. They could have awarded it to the person who brought everlasting peace to the Middle East. Wait.. that hasn't happened yet. OK...they could have awarded it to the person who solved world hunger...hang on, that hasn't happened either. They could...never mind...I got nutin'.
This past Saturday, I pitched in on a moving project. I helped a human female move from a third story apartment to a house. The day was perfect for it; low 80's, light breeze, clear sky, the birds were singing and the children were frolicking but we were dripping sweat by 11 AM loading up the UHaul. There was enough griminess, stickiness, saltiness, etc. on us for several other bipeds with opposable thumbs. I had a couple of beers (the good kind that has longer fermentation protocols) at evening's end and I was out. I was so tired that if I was sleeping with someone, I would've stayed on my side of the bed that night. There were a couple of bruises on my arms due to uncooperative furniture, minor things, but the biggie was sore legs, not arms or upper body tissues. The quadicepticus...ehh, quadricactus...anyway, the front part of the legs between the knees and the groin (thank god that's ok!) were very sore. Any movement that involved those muscle groups also involved some teeth gritting. The past couple of days I stayed away from stairs except for the hot tub and getting out was much easier than getting in. Unfolding from the truck in the morning and taking a few steps surely brought some mirth to the watching gods. Lowering the physical frame to a sitting position and rising from such a position required a focus of mind configured for enduring burning discomfit. One has to wonder about the aftermath if I didn't work out regularly. Body cast, Valium and a bedpan?
Well, it's getting late and dark. The lights haven't come on in the parking lot where I'm camping for the night; they're usually activated by this time. The vehicle is backed up to the rear of the convenience store, close to the infamous grassy knoll, where the store lights illuminate this portion of the lot. I'm using that light to write this entry. It should be OK but I feel more noticeable, somewhat more exposed. Ah, well. Earlier, the northwestern horizon was darkening, promising to unleash its gathering, elemental fury like it did during the Monday morning commute. In these parts, we call that type of heavy rain a 'frog strangler'; probably caused an accident or two. So if that does happen again during tomorrow morning's commute, remember to set your vehicle's force field to high. I'm thinking a setting of an 8 terra watt intensity should suffice to repel anything that intercepts your vector such as squirrels, semis or the occasional pedestrian.
Happy trails to you,
David
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Homeless - 36
Salutations, fellow omnivores,
Well, the weather conditions have undergone a noticeable shift to the cooler and dryer end of the spectrum; mid 80's during the day and low 60's at night - most comfortable sleeping conditions for my situation. And, yes, still doing the hot tub and swimming a few laps in the darkness of the morning. I don't know if the world has gotten quieter at that time of the day or if I have but the silence seems to be more acute.
This morning I bought a large donut thingy ($.34) and got a free cup of coffee and sat at an outside table in the large shopping center to watch the sunrise. I was about 60 meters from the 'turbo coffee' place where the patrons sit on padded chairs. The place where I sat doesn't open until 11 AM and their outdoor furniture lacks padding but it is not crowded. I sat there watching the sun slowly rise, turning the dark blue of the eastern horizon to a ribbon of burnt orange until finally, our stellar furnace peeks over the curvature of the planet; the first rays of light of a new day reflecting off the ebony flanks of Black Thunder resting comfortably a couple of meters away. Then more of those pesky humans start arriving in the area and I move to another location to read the paper.
I mentioned in an earlier entry of the physical difficulty that I was experiencing in the morning after a night slumbering several hours in my spacious sleeping quarters - pronounced stiffness of joints as well as other living tissues that I've grown quite fond of over the past years. That difficulty is not present these days. After clawing my way to full consciousness, I unfold from the truck and, standing on concrete, raise my arms above my head and reach for the sky, stretching and tensing my entire physical frame for a few moments and I'm good until I really stretch out within the next 30 or 40 minutes when I practice the ol' levitation techniques as well as other Jedi/Matrix related stuff. There's the usual 'snap, crackle, pop' things going on but that's normal...for me at least. Maybe the body has adapted more to the current situation. Another thing that I've noticed is that the whites of my eyes are...whiter. What's up with that?
I read where those damn Rooskies planted their flag on the ocean floor at the North Pole in an attempt to claim the anticipated energy reserves that are present in that area. Wait a minute - doesn't Santa C. already own those parts? Canada and others are getting into the act, too. Great...another combat theater in WWW III which is right around the corner. The news article included some content about the viewpoints of the people that live in the region and how they felt about the reduction of ice that is affecting their lifestyles, the loss of culture and tradition. One man was saddened by the fact that his 16 year old daughter would be unable to participate in a traditional rite of passage that consists of tracking down and killing a polar bear. Hang on a minute there, Nanook - a lone 16 year old girl killing a polar bear in the wild? It didn't present any tactical information in the method of execution; whether that epic confrontation was decided by hand-to-claw combat (would karate work on a bear?) or by a good old traditional knife-to-claw melee. I have to assume that a rifle figured prominently in that quest, preferably a weapon along the lines of a .44 Marlin. I don't know about you but the polar bears that I've seen in zoos and on TV would not be taken down easily by a .22 rifle. Hopefully there would be enough distance to chamber and fire a second round as well as others in case there are some rounds that don't proceed to target as intended. Are those young girls sent out with a 'do not come back unless you are wearing a bear pelt and leave the cellphone and IPod if you please'. And what do the 16 year old boys do? Swim out and rassle an orca onto an iceberg barehanded? I remember grandma trying to get me to kill a chicken so we could fry it up for supper. I couldn't do it. I held the chicken down with my left hand with a machete in the right and I couldn't do it. I let the chicken go, dropped the machete and ran away crying. She ended up killing a chicken and I plucked the feathers off and she cut it open ad I reached inside the carcass to take out the ...insides. I did manage to eat a drumstick at supper. The experience marred me for life but not enough to not enjoy some Popeye's on a regular basis these days, spicy if you please. Some great hunter I am. But what's a rite of passage for the young ones in our society? Let me think...yeah...uhmm...yep, I got it. At high school graduation, get a limo, get hammered, ingest psychoactive substances and have hot, American sex if you're still able. Not quite as character building, is it? Doesn't exactly have that substance of a defining moment; a transition to a broader, deeper relationship with the world that heralds the participation in a richer, more meaningful life. And I know what some of the fathers of 16 year olds are thinking in some parts of this country - no, there ain't no wild polar bears with the continental United States and besides, the educational authorities might balk at your request for an excused absence for a 'rite of passage' activity for your child. But Jeez, think of the impact it would have on her classmates when they read her paper 'What I Did This Summer'.
Well, there are other rites of passage that have the potential to be just as profound in our society - marriage, children, education, divorce, death, love gained and lost, learning to roll one, failing eyesight and not killing a chicken. I think that one of mine was attending a Native American Church many moons ago for an entire weekend. The mechanics of that participation consist of : 1) entering a tepee (that's right, pilgrim, I said tepee just like you see in the movies) that is out in the middle of BF where it's so dark you can't see your hand in front of your face but you can see the halo of the galaxy 2) you enter said structure with a few other people at dusk and exit at dawn to rest during the day, for three consecutive nights 3) everyone sits in a circle with a small fire in the center and a small drum is passed around so that each individual can sing an Indian song (I was omitted since I didn't know any) and 4) at periodic intervals a container is passed around so that you can extract a prescribed amount of a peyote mixture and ingest. I know what you're thinking but it's not like that; the purpose and context is different than getting together with some friends in a dark room and 'sroom up' and wave some cigarettes in the air so everyone can see tracers and exclaim 'whoa, dud, so cool'. The atmosphere is more of a religious function much like people going to a regular church on Sunday morning with the purpose to get closer to their God and to enhance that relationship. To me, either method can serve as a conduit to that vast reservoir of the non-linear that exists within us all but the NAC alternative is not as structured and, quite possibly, allows a more profound and direct experience. It certainly happened with me. Maybe the use of hallucinogenics assists us in removing ourselves from... our self. From what I've read, other methods exist in other cultures.I read 2 or 3 weeks ago that some social scientists are concerned about the loss of indigenous languages, not just in the Americas but across our planet. For them, those disappearing languages represent unique templates of how those ancient cultures perceived and interacted with their world. The article cited as an example that the English language has only past, present and future verbs while some languages have more and others less. There is a high probability that we won't ever know of their methods and may be losing something that is beyond valuation.
Thinking of that teenage girl who will never have that experience, I have to wonder what she is missing. In that quest, there is certainly the cold and the treacherous ice but she would be hunting one of the most feared land predators on the planet that is capable of killing her easier than one of us changing our underwear. I can only imagine the focus of mind that she has to employ; no thoughts of that cute boy or that fight she had with her brother or which limo to rent, not even room for fear but only total focus if she is to survive.
I am thankful that there are no polar bears in my range that I have to contend with. Well, at least not until the next ice age occurs which is right around the corner, too. Though I may have something worse...other humans.
Have a pleasant weekend,
David
Well, the weather conditions have undergone a noticeable shift to the cooler and dryer end of the spectrum; mid 80's during the day and low 60's at night - most comfortable sleeping conditions for my situation. And, yes, still doing the hot tub and swimming a few laps in the darkness of the morning. I don't know if the world has gotten quieter at that time of the day or if I have but the silence seems to be more acute.
This morning I bought a large donut thingy ($.34) and got a free cup of coffee and sat at an outside table in the large shopping center to watch the sunrise. I was about 60 meters from the 'turbo coffee' place where the patrons sit on padded chairs. The place where I sat doesn't open until 11 AM and their outdoor furniture lacks padding but it is not crowded. I sat there watching the sun slowly rise, turning the dark blue of the eastern horizon to a ribbon of burnt orange until finally, our stellar furnace peeks over the curvature of the planet; the first rays of light of a new day reflecting off the ebony flanks of Black Thunder resting comfortably a couple of meters away. Then more of those pesky humans start arriving in the area and I move to another location to read the paper.
I mentioned in an earlier entry of the physical difficulty that I was experiencing in the morning after a night slumbering several hours in my spacious sleeping quarters - pronounced stiffness of joints as well as other living tissues that I've grown quite fond of over the past years. That difficulty is not present these days. After clawing my way to full consciousness, I unfold from the truck and, standing on concrete, raise my arms above my head and reach for the sky, stretching and tensing my entire physical frame for a few moments and I'm good until I really stretch out within the next 30 or 40 minutes when I practice the ol' levitation techniques as well as other Jedi/Matrix related stuff. There's the usual 'snap, crackle, pop' things going on but that's normal...for me at least. Maybe the body has adapted more to the current situation. Another thing that I've noticed is that the whites of my eyes are...whiter. What's up with that?
I read where those damn Rooskies planted their flag on the ocean floor at the North Pole in an attempt to claim the anticipated energy reserves that are present in that area. Wait a minute - doesn't Santa C. already own those parts? Canada and others are getting into the act, too. Great...another combat theater in WWW III which is right around the corner. The news article included some content about the viewpoints of the people that live in the region and how they felt about the reduction of ice that is affecting their lifestyles, the loss of culture and tradition. One man was saddened by the fact that his 16 year old daughter would be unable to participate in a traditional rite of passage that consists of tracking down and killing a polar bear. Hang on a minute there, Nanook - a lone 16 year old girl killing a polar bear in the wild? It didn't present any tactical information in the method of execution; whether that epic confrontation was decided by hand-to-claw combat (would karate work on a bear?) or by a good old traditional knife-to-claw melee. I have to assume that a rifle figured prominently in that quest, preferably a weapon along the lines of a .44 Marlin. I don't know about you but the polar bears that I've seen in zoos and on TV would not be taken down easily by a .22 rifle. Hopefully there would be enough distance to chamber and fire a second round as well as others in case there are some rounds that don't proceed to target as intended. Are those young girls sent out with a 'do not come back unless you are wearing a bear pelt and leave the cellphone and IPod if you please'. And what do the 16 year old boys do? Swim out and rassle an orca onto an iceberg barehanded? I remember grandma trying to get me to kill a chicken so we could fry it up for supper. I couldn't do it. I held the chicken down with my left hand with a machete in the right and I couldn't do it. I let the chicken go, dropped the machete and ran away crying. She ended up killing a chicken and I plucked the feathers off and she cut it open ad I reached inside the carcass to take out the ...insides. I did manage to eat a drumstick at supper. The experience marred me for life but not enough to not enjoy some Popeye's on a regular basis these days, spicy if you please. Some great hunter I am. But what's a rite of passage for the young ones in our society? Let me think...yeah...uhmm...yep, I got it. At high school graduation, get a limo, get hammered, ingest psychoactive substances and have hot, American sex if you're still able. Not quite as character building, is it? Doesn't exactly have that substance of a defining moment; a transition to a broader, deeper relationship with the world that heralds the participation in a richer, more meaningful life. And I know what some of the fathers of 16 year olds are thinking in some parts of this country - no, there ain't no wild polar bears with the continental United States and besides, the educational authorities might balk at your request for an excused absence for a 'rite of passage' activity for your child. But Jeez, think of the impact it would have on her classmates when they read her paper 'What I Did This Summer'.
Well, there are other rites of passage that have the potential to be just as profound in our society - marriage, children, education, divorce, death, love gained and lost, learning to roll one, failing eyesight and not killing a chicken. I think that one of mine was attending a Native American Church many moons ago for an entire weekend. The mechanics of that participation consist of : 1) entering a tepee (that's right, pilgrim, I said tepee just like you see in the movies) that is out in the middle of BF where it's so dark you can't see your hand in front of your face but you can see the halo of the galaxy 2) you enter said structure with a few other people at dusk and exit at dawn to rest during the day, for three consecutive nights 3) everyone sits in a circle with a small fire in the center and a small drum is passed around so that each individual can sing an Indian song (I was omitted since I didn't know any) and 4) at periodic intervals a container is passed around so that you can extract a prescribed amount of a peyote mixture and ingest. I know what you're thinking but it's not like that; the purpose and context is different than getting together with some friends in a dark room and 'sroom up' and wave some cigarettes in the air so everyone can see tracers and exclaim 'whoa, dud, so cool'. The atmosphere is more of a religious function much like people going to a regular church on Sunday morning with the purpose to get closer to their God and to enhance that relationship. To me, either method can serve as a conduit to that vast reservoir of the non-linear that exists within us all but the NAC alternative is not as structured and, quite possibly, allows a more profound and direct experience. It certainly happened with me. Maybe the use of hallucinogenics assists us in removing ourselves from... our self. From what I've read, other methods exist in other cultures.I read 2 or 3 weeks ago that some social scientists are concerned about the loss of indigenous languages, not just in the Americas but across our planet. For them, those disappearing languages represent unique templates of how those ancient cultures perceived and interacted with their world. The article cited as an example that the English language has only past, present and future verbs while some languages have more and others less. There is a high probability that we won't ever know of their methods and may be losing something that is beyond valuation.
Thinking of that teenage girl who will never have that experience, I have to wonder what she is missing. In that quest, there is certainly the cold and the treacherous ice but she would be hunting one of the most feared land predators on the planet that is capable of killing her easier than one of us changing our underwear. I can only imagine the focus of mind that she has to employ; no thoughts of that cute boy or that fight she had with her brother or which limo to rent, not even room for fear but only total focus if she is to survive.
I am thankful that there are no polar bears in my range that I have to contend with. Well, at least not until the next ice age occurs which is right around the corner, too. Though I may have something worse...other humans.
Have a pleasant weekend,
David
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Homeless - 35
Hiya, troopers,
Welcome to day 19531. Well, my day of life anyway.
Weather forecast for tonight: dark. Forecast for tomorrow: the grass will continue to grow and it will be light. Forecast for tomorrow night: dark again. The repetition of the rhythm of life on this planet can be absolutely toe curling at times, can it not?
Did you know that in the Far North Dallas area there are virtually no comfortable places to sit outdoors in the shade? For free, that is. If you have money to spend, there are plenty of options. There are a couple of parks within my range but the seating surfaces are not conducive to a pleasant resting experience for a bony butt like mine. And another thing; there are not enough trees in the Far North Dallas area available to the general homeless population to park their vehicles under! What are the city planners thinking? Another factor to consider is the introduction of an undesirable social element that frequent those places, especially at night. I am somewhat fortunate that I possess a half-chair that makes sitting in the shade of a tree enjoyable at a few choice locations. I suppose when the weather turns hostile to non-fur bearing bipeds, I could return the chair to the pool area.
I filled out a couple of more job applications in the convenience store industry. At one of the locations, I talked briefly with a co-owner who mentioned that I was a bit over-qualified for the part-time position. I replied that it would appear so but there is the thing about needing food. She did encourage me to fill out the application and attach my resume to it. I'll tun it in tomorrow morning.
There are some other want ad items that you might not be aware of that are listed in the local papers. "Girls, 18+, cash paid daily, we will train!" Gee, wonder what that is about. "Men, 18-65, sperm donation, compensation available." Oooook, here's the thing. I'm supposed to produce...the essence of life...in a room, alone, in a public place with people just outside the door?!? Even in the best of times, that particular anatomical apparatus is somewhat temperamental and if you add the fact that a bunch of strangers are less that a few meters away, there is a low probability factor (approaching zero) that I would be unable to ...deliver. I don't care if Loretta Young, Sophia Loren or Katherine Hepburn (of long ago) was in the room with me to assist, it ain't happening even if they were talking with me real nice. And the 'compensation available' issue: is there a direct correlation between the amount of cash paid out and the volume and/or quality of the genetic sample? And last, but certainly not least, there are the ads that want humans to test the effects of experimental drugs on. Isn't that what animals are for?! Oh, yeah, right - the animal rights groups have a problem with that so now the medical community use humans these days for those evaluations. Well, there are a lot of us and maybe the heard does need some thinning a bit, which isn't that bad of an idea based on my experience. Wait a minute...I think I'll check into that to see if the experiments involve ingesting psychoactive alkaloids either by chemical or viral vectors to determine the effects. They would have to provide a place to crash as well as provide for the inevitable munchies attack. I'll let you know.
I further refined the clothes cleaning technique that I shared with you earlier; happened by accident. After the 'hot tub cycle', I put the clothing items through the 'hand soap cycle' and then through the 'sink rinse cycle'. The hand soap found in bathrooms, both men and women's, significantly reduce the pool chlorine afterglow. However, I discovered that there is always hand soap in the men's bathroom while there have been numerous times that the hand soap dispenser in the women's bathroom was empty. The implication of those facts are somewhat distressing and leads me to the need to re-evaluate the social custom of handshaking among men in our culture. Perhaps if this information was brought to the august journalistic talent of Stephen Colbert, he could initiate a change of that social custom and replace it with, say, a Klingon military salute. I know what you're thinking, what the hell is that guy doing in the women's bathroom? There are times that the sanitary conditions of the men's bathroom is significantly below the minimal threshold of usability, at least by my criteria, and I'm forced to pursue other options. Also, at around 4:45 to 5:15 AM, my 'window of availability', the normal human is not even functioning thus reducing the possibility of other users significantly.
The State Fair of Texas is here again. Every couple of years I would spend a day there visiting the car/truck shows (where are the flying cars?), the butterfly garden, arts and crafts, the jungle friends, ride 2 or 3 of the extreme rides and, of course, consume some of the food; those artery clogging entrees that promise to assist in an early 'contract termination' event. Oh, how the gods tempt us with those culinary demons. But you don't have to worry about that if you work out the majority of the year, right? RIGHT?!? And there is the 'people watching' pastime while nursing a cold beer or two...or three. Each year I would always shop for a small item that would depict a dolphin, a statue or some such. I still have those packed away somewhere that I bought in previous visits. Oh well, maybe I'll catch next year's.
Take care,
David
Welcome to day 19531. Well, my day of life anyway.
Weather forecast for tonight: dark. Forecast for tomorrow: the grass will continue to grow and it will be light. Forecast for tomorrow night: dark again. The repetition of the rhythm of life on this planet can be absolutely toe curling at times, can it not?
Did you know that in the Far North Dallas area there are virtually no comfortable places to sit outdoors in the shade? For free, that is. If you have money to spend, there are plenty of options. There are a couple of parks within my range but the seating surfaces are not conducive to a pleasant resting experience for a bony butt like mine. And another thing; there are not enough trees in the Far North Dallas area available to the general homeless population to park their vehicles under! What are the city planners thinking? Another factor to consider is the introduction of an undesirable social element that frequent those places, especially at night. I am somewhat fortunate that I possess a half-chair that makes sitting in the shade of a tree enjoyable at a few choice locations. I suppose when the weather turns hostile to non-fur bearing bipeds, I could return the chair to the pool area.
I filled out a couple of more job applications in the convenience store industry. At one of the locations, I talked briefly with a co-owner who mentioned that I was a bit over-qualified for the part-time position. I replied that it would appear so but there is the thing about needing food. She did encourage me to fill out the application and attach my resume to it. I'll tun it in tomorrow morning.
There are some other want ad items that you might not be aware of that are listed in the local papers. "Girls, 18+, cash paid daily, we will train!" Gee, wonder what that is about. "Men, 18-65, sperm donation, compensation available." Oooook, here's the thing. I'm supposed to produce...the essence of life...in a room, alone, in a public place with people just outside the door?!? Even in the best of times, that particular anatomical apparatus is somewhat temperamental and if you add the fact that a bunch of strangers are less that a few meters away, there is a low probability factor (approaching zero) that I would be unable to ...deliver. I don't care if Loretta Young, Sophia Loren or Katherine Hepburn (of long ago) was in the room with me to assist, it ain't happening even if they were talking with me real nice. And the 'compensation available' issue: is there a direct correlation between the amount of cash paid out and the volume and/or quality of the genetic sample? And last, but certainly not least, there are the ads that want humans to test the effects of experimental drugs on. Isn't that what animals are for?! Oh, yeah, right - the animal rights groups have a problem with that so now the medical community use humans these days for those evaluations. Well, there are a lot of us and maybe the heard does need some thinning a bit, which isn't that bad of an idea based on my experience. Wait a minute...I think I'll check into that to see if the experiments involve ingesting psychoactive alkaloids either by chemical or viral vectors to determine the effects. They would have to provide a place to crash as well as provide for the inevitable munchies attack. I'll let you know.
I further refined the clothes cleaning technique that I shared with you earlier; happened by accident. After the 'hot tub cycle', I put the clothing items through the 'hand soap cycle' and then through the 'sink rinse cycle'. The hand soap found in bathrooms, both men and women's, significantly reduce the pool chlorine afterglow. However, I discovered that there is always hand soap in the men's bathroom while there have been numerous times that the hand soap dispenser in the women's bathroom was empty. The implication of those facts are somewhat distressing and leads me to the need to re-evaluate the social custom of handshaking among men in our culture. Perhaps if this information was brought to the august journalistic talent of Stephen Colbert, he could initiate a change of that social custom and replace it with, say, a Klingon military salute. I know what you're thinking, what the hell is that guy doing in the women's bathroom? There are times that the sanitary conditions of the men's bathroom is significantly below the minimal threshold of usability, at least by my criteria, and I'm forced to pursue other options. Also, at around 4:45 to 5:15 AM, my 'window of availability', the normal human is not even functioning thus reducing the possibility of other users significantly.
The State Fair of Texas is here again. Every couple of years I would spend a day there visiting the car/truck shows (where are the flying cars?), the butterfly garden, arts and crafts, the jungle friends, ride 2 or 3 of the extreme rides and, of course, consume some of the food; those artery clogging entrees that promise to assist in an early 'contract termination' event. Oh, how the gods tempt us with those culinary demons. But you don't have to worry about that if you work out the majority of the year, right? RIGHT?!? And there is the 'people watching' pastime while nursing a cold beer or two...or three. Each year I would always shop for a small item that would depict a dolphin, a statue or some such. I still have those packed away somewhere that I bought in previous visits. Oh well, maybe I'll catch next year's.
Take care,
David
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Homeless - 34
Hello,
I was wondering earlier this week if my half brother thinks of whatever the hell became of me. When I was a homewith person, we'd talk a few minutes every month or so since we reconnected in the mid 90's when our mother died of cancer. I'd send him some money, usually a $100 or so, on his birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas...and a few other times during the course of a year so he could buy stuff; mostly DVDs, CDs and whatever else took his fancy. During that course of time, he even wrote me a few short letters comprised of 3 or 4 sentences, printed out in large block letters. When we talked, he always told me about what was going on with him and asking when I was coming to see him. He'd talk of his roommates, girlfriends, counselors, what he cooked and stuff he bought, to name a few topics. The things he knew about me was that I lived in Dallas and did something with computers. During the course of our conversations, he never asked any details about my daily life. That is not difficult to understand when you consider that he is in his late 40's with the emotional and intellectual capabilities of 10 year old...maybe less, maybe a bit more - hard to say.
He is the product of my mother's second failed marriage and we look nothing alike. He is shorter than I with brown hair, light skin, oval face and the last time I saw him, somewhat pudgy. Come to think of it, my mother, him and I don't favor each other at all. Maybe somebody ought to check the DNA of the milkman. Regardless, at the start of my 6th grade, he became my responsibility since mom worked two jobs as a desk clerk in the hotel industry. During that tenure, it was up to me to ensure that he was clean, fed, clothed, protected and dropped off at school. I was the one who cleaned the duplex/apt/dwelling, shopped, cooked food, washed clothes and dishes and protected his dumb ass from bullies. Got my butt slapped around a few times because of him. One of the better points of that time was that a couple of the bullies started to watch out for him and me...after they slapped me around first, though. Maybe their destiny was to become defenders, too. Maybe they realized that bullying, in whatever form, was just a cover for their own inadequacies. And, of course, I had to take him with me wherever I went, whether attending to chores or my own playtime which really wasn't. I was also disciplinarian at certain times under the express orders of mom. She'd order me to swat him a few times with a belt as punishment for some BS. I hated that. I hated that with a very deep passion. If I said I did and she found out that I didn't (she asked him), then both of us would get it and he would get it much harder than he would've from me, enough to where he really cried. And I hated that, too.
Anyway, several years later in the mid to late 70's, when mom and I was trying to get along, or she was again attempting to control my life, she told my girlfriend at the time about her suspicions regarding his retardation and then the girlfriend told me. It seems that the birth technology of the late 50's included a drug that they would administer to the mother if the birthing process was more difficult than usual that caused the birth canal to contract even more forcibly than usual. It was her contention that this procedure was responsible for his retardation due to the fact that a newborn's skull is still soft and pliable and her birth canal's enhanced contractions exerted too much pressure on his skull thus causing...a short circuit in some of his neural pathways. When I was in the 9th grade, I remember that she had some medical tests performed on him and those tests confirmed what his teachers suspected and what everybody else who came in contact with him knew. I remember asking her what she was going to do and she replied that she would have to think about it. I ended up running away from home at the start of the 12th grade. Shortly after I left, she ended up committing him to the state for placement into a group home with others like him under the supervision of state appointed mental health counselors for specialized care where he remains to this day and probably for the duration of his life.
I remember going to spend the summer at grandma's place in southwestern Louisiana after the 9th grade; me and him, for the last time as it turns out. During that time, I didn't care too much for the city and always looked forward to those trips by bus. Maybe it was because of my responsibilities at that time. At grandma's place I could hangout with friends, go to the town swimming hole which as about a mile behind her house, catch lizards and let them go, roam in the woods, play baseball and basketball. In fact, Grandma raised me until the end of the 5th grade, so properly speaking, I'm the product of her upbringing more than anyone else. Anyway, during the summer, many times I would leave after breakfast with grandma telling me to be back before dark 'or else!'. There were always 2 or 3 dogs that would tag along and I would be back in time for supper looking like a heathen; dirty, barefoot with just just shorts on...kinda like these days except I'm cleaner, don't having any dogs tagging along and I have to shave every couple of days. I'd wash up behind the hen house where a hose and facet were; the only indoor plumbing was for kitchen use. In the winter time, you'd heat up some water on the stove and dump it into a large aluminum tub and bathe, for those of you wondering.
I only got lost one time during those treks and it was that summer. The darkness came faster than I was paying attention and I lost my bearings and the dogs were no help. I guess they thought this little sojourn was an allnighter. I heard a shotgun blast not too far off and I knew that was for me. Yes, there were several weapons of several types at her place, enough to arm my several uncles more than twice over. There were pumas, bobcats, poisonous snakes, rabid dogs and wild pigs to deal with but those are other stories. I got back and saw grandpa at the back door framed by the inside light taking off his belt to put a whupping on my young self but grandma brushed past him. I told her that I was sorry but I got lost. She hugged me said she knew and told me to clean up, that she saved me some supper. She also save me an ass whupping. Grandpa never did care for the Jones family. He thought that my mother was a harlot of Satan for being divorced twice, that my brother's condition was the incarnation of the dark lord himself and that I was a smart ass because I asked questions. I'm serious here, people; he was a 'fire and brimstone' kind of preacher. It seemed he always had a scowl on his face. I never understood that union. To me, he was a despot, the ultimate authority that you responded to with 'yes, sir' or 'no,sir' or risked his righteous wrath while she was the other side of the coin. I could talk with her and ask questions. She told me of Indian legends, taught me how to cook, pointed out star constellations to me while sitting on the front porch in the dark and quiet with the night insects wailing away. The environment was so rural that you could see the ecliptic of the galaxy which initiated a whole new line of inquiry from me that continues to this day.
Toward the end of that summer with only a few days left before I started the 10th grade, we went over to a neighbor's house to use their phone to call mom. Nope, grandma didn't have a phone. Mom was glad to talk with me saying that she missed us and that she would meet us at the bus station to take us home where she would have our favorite supper ready. As it turned out, she wasn't at the bus station and I had to call from the bus station pay phone (no cells back then either) and she told me to call a cab. Taxis were our main transport since we didn't have a car. My brother and I arrived at the duplex we were renting at the time and the place was a mess. She told me she didn't have time to clean house and fix dinner and told me to fix something to eat and she went back to bed. I prepared some hamburger, potatoes and green beans. My brother asked what was wrong with her while I was cooking and I replied that she wasn't feeling good. As we ate, I remember hating coming back to that environment, a place of seemingly endless responsibility. I wanted to go back to grandma's and get lost in those woods again, this time forever, just me and those 3 dogs as my eternal companions.
The next couple of years passed with more of the same and myself getting more restless and impatient. It seemed the only refuge I had was in some of the classes that I really enjoyed and the homework that they entailed - most notably, science and English/Literature classes. Any science class from the 9th grade forward had my full attention; no passing notes (didn't have IM) or sleepiness. I found that science stuff fascinating. I fear that was the birth of the nerdy side of me. The English/Literature classes were mainly reading and writing. The reading part was what really opened my eyes to the possibilities, to the world full of people and places, of history, of other ways of life in both past and present...information! It seems that every English teacher that I had from grades 9 - 12 stressed writing; themes, essays, short stories, etc. I remember the first short story that I wrote in the 9th grade when we were tasked with writing an ending to a story that ended with a man having to choose between two doors - behind one was a hungry, man eating tiger and certain death, and behind the other, his lady love and long life. Later that week after the teacher had read them all, she announced that she was going to read aloud the one that she thought was the best and proceeded. As she started reading, I realized, to my horror, that she was reading my work. I sat there still as a rock, pleading to the gods please, oh please, don't let her tell who wrote it. When she finished, she turned to me and told me that was a great story. And, yes, the gods didn't listen to me in those days either. I enjoyed the respite those classes gave me. By the way, in my story ending, the guy kills the tiger, gets his lady, skewers the gizzard of the unjust, jealous king, gets the kingdom and lives happily ever after. Ahhhh, if things were really that simple these days.
At the beginning of the 12th grade, after another summer of frustration, continuing conditions and dropping hints, I decided for change. This decision wasn't a spur of the moment thing. I remember calling mom late one night toward the end of her shift telling her that I wouldn't be there when she got home, that I was leaving and she needs to come straight home because I didn't want my brother to be alone for too long. After hanging up, I hugged him and told him I was leaving and he asked if he was coming, too. I said no and he asked when will I be back and I said that I didn't know. I told him to stay in the apartment and mom will be home in a few minutes. It was nearly midnight on a Friday. I picked up the small duffel bay of clothes and walked out closing the door behind me. I walked over to a dark stairwell a couple of apartment buildings over to make sure he would be all right. Mom arrived about 10 minutes later and went into the apartment and come storming right back out screaming my name in somewhat indelicate terms. That went on for a couple of minutes then she went back inside slamming the door. I sat there for a few more minutes and then left, going over to a friend's house whose parents knew what was going on with me. I felt terrible. The friend's parents had prepared a room for me and when I arrived they asked if they could do anything. I told them thanks but no and I wanted to be alone and I went to that room where I cried for some time, hating myself, hating mom, hating myself even more because I wouldn't be there to protect and care for my brother. I promised myself over and over during that time that I would never have a family, that they were too much hardship and pain. I fell asleep and awoke a couple of hours later and left before the rest of the household got up. Odd...I wonder if that is why I don't have a family now. Do the promises that we make to ourselves as a child bind us as an adult.? If so, I have to wonder about other promises I may have made that I don't recall but are still adhering to at a subliminal level.
Throughout the following years mom and I would experience brief times when we would communicate long distance and it would go OK for a couple of months but it always ended with her trying to configure my life to her goals. The last conversation I had with her was in '89 when she got really intense about wanting grandchildren and what was wrong with me? Why am I not keeping in close contact with her and my brother? She was always trying to push my brother toward me and mold the three of us into a normal family. Why wasn't I married with children? Why haven't I bought a house yet? Am I gay? At that point, I realized people don't change and terminated the relationship once and for all. In the early 90's one of my uncles located me and told me she was dying of cancer and wanted to see me. It took him a couple of calls but I finally relented. He told me that she had changed and wanted to talk with me but, as it turns out, she hadn't changed...still running the same old program. It seems that people don't ever change even when a lifetime of doing things a certain way hasn't worked, they still persist in employing the same strategies. It would seem that with the force of death quickly approaching, it would grant some clarity but I guess not for some people unwilling to give up their egotistical goals even at the end of the road. She died less than a couple of months later and when I heard, I cried, and to this day I have absolutely no idea why.
So now you have an idea of the context of the family life that I was part of, some of the influences that shaped me and my responses to several environmental pressures. Some would say that it wasn't an ideal environment but what childhood is? Though they differ in style and substance, each of us had our challenges during those times and somehow we found the strength to endure. Maybe an important thing is that even though we carry some baggage around with us, we don't let it rule how we see the world or people later in life; that no matter how distasteful circumstances may currently be, they are only temporary. New ones will arise to assume their place.
As for contacting my half-brother and explaining my situation to him, I don't see the need. To do so at this time would be a waste of resources. One of the questions he asked me when we began communication again was to inquire about my relationship with J.R. Ewing. See what I mean? Our interpretation systems share very little. When things change, I'll contact him again and resume where we left off. He may have a question or two but that will be about it.
Good night, Snake Plisskan, wherever you are.
David
I was wondering earlier this week if my half brother thinks of whatever the hell became of me. When I was a homewith person, we'd talk a few minutes every month or so since we reconnected in the mid 90's when our mother died of cancer. I'd send him some money, usually a $100 or so, on his birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas...and a few other times during the course of a year so he could buy stuff; mostly DVDs, CDs and whatever else took his fancy. During that course of time, he even wrote me a few short letters comprised of 3 or 4 sentences, printed out in large block letters. When we talked, he always told me about what was going on with him and asking when I was coming to see him. He'd talk of his roommates, girlfriends, counselors, what he cooked and stuff he bought, to name a few topics. The things he knew about me was that I lived in Dallas and did something with computers. During the course of our conversations, he never asked any details about my daily life. That is not difficult to understand when you consider that he is in his late 40's with the emotional and intellectual capabilities of 10 year old...maybe less, maybe a bit more - hard to say.
He is the product of my mother's second failed marriage and we look nothing alike. He is shorter than I with brown hair, light skin, oval face and the last time I saw him, somewhat pudgy. Come to think of it, my mother, him and I don't favor each other at all. Maybe somebody ought to check the DNA of the milkman. Regardless, at the start of my 6th grade, he became my responsibility since mom worked two jobs as a desk clerk in the hotel industry. During that tenure, it was up to me to ensure that he was clean, fed, clothed, protected and dropped off at school. I was the one who cleaned the duplex/apt/dwelling, shopped, cooked food, washed clothes and dishes and protected his dumb ass from bullies. Got my butt slapped around a few times because of him. One of the better points of that time was that a couple of the bullies started to watch out for him and me...after they slapped me around first, though. Maybe their destiny was to become defenders, too. Maybe they realized that bullying, in whatever form, was just a cover for their own inadequacies. And, of course, I had to take him with me wherever I went, whether attending to chores or my own playtime which really wasn't. I was also disciplinarian at certain times under the express orders of mom. She'd order me to swat him a few times with a belt as punishment for some BS. I hated that. I hated that with a very deep passion. If I said I did and she found out that I didn't (she asked him), then both of us would get it and he would get it much harder than he would've from me, enough to where he really cried. And I hated that, too.
Anyway, several years later in the mid to late 70's, when mom and I was trying to get along, or she was again attempting to control my life, she told my girlfriend at the time about her suspicions regarding his retardation and then the girlfriend told me. It seems that the birth technology of the late 50's included a drug that they would administer to the mother if the birthing process was more difficult than usual that caused the birth canal to contract even more forcibly than usual. It was her contention that this procedure was responsible for his retardation due to the fact that a newborn's skull is still soft and pliable and her birth canal's enhanced contractions exerted too much pressure on his skull thus causing...a short circuit in some of his neural pathways. When I was in the 9th grade, I remember that she had some medical tests performed on him and those tests confirmed what his teachers suspected and what everybody else who came in contact with him knew. I remember asking her what she was going to do and she replied that she would have to think about it. I ended up running away from home at the start of the 12th grade. Shortly after I left, she ended up committing him to the state for placement into a group home with others like him under the supervision of state appointed mental health counselors for specialized care where he remains to this day and probably for the duration of his life.
I remember going to spend the summer at grandma's place in southwestern Louisiana after the 9th grade; me and him, for the last time as it turns out. During that time, I didn't care too much for the city and always looked forward to those trips by bus. Maybe it was because of my responsibilities at that time. At grandma's place I could hangout with friends, go to the town swimming hole which as about a mile behind her house, catch lizards and let them go, roam in the woods, play baseball and basketball. In fact, Grandma raised me until the end of the 5th grade, so properly speaking, I'm the product of her upbringing more than anyone else. Anyway, during the summer, many times I would leave after breakfast with grandma telling me to be back before dark 'or else!'. There were always 2 or 3 dogs that would tag along and I would be back in time for supper looking like a heathen; dirty, barefoot with just just shorts on...kinda like these days except I'm cleaner, don't having any dogs tagging along and I have to shave every couple of days. I'd wash up behind the hen house where a hose and facet were; the only indoor plumbing was for kitchen use. In the winter time, you'd heat up some water on the stove and dump it into a large aluminum tub and bathe, for those of you wondering.
I only got lost one time during those treks and it was that summer. The darkness came faster than I was paying attention and I lost my bearings and the dogs were no help. I guess they thought this little sojourn was an allnighter. I heard a shotgun blast not too far off and I knew that was for me. Yes, there were several weapons of several types at her place, enough to arm my several uncles more than twice over. There were pumas, bobcats, poisonous snakes, rabid dogs and wild pigs to deal with but those are other stories. I got back and saw grandpa at the back door framed by the inside light taking off his belt to put a whupping on my young self but grandma brushed past him. I told her that I was sorry but I got lost. She hugged me said she knew and told me to clean up, that she saved me some supper. She also save me an ass whupping. Grandpa never did care for the Jones family. He thought that my mother was a harlot of Satan for being divorced twice, that my brother's condition was the incarnation of the dark lord himself and that I was a smart ass because I asked questions. I'm serious here, people; he was a 'fire and brimstone' kind of preacher. It seemed he always had a scowl on his face. I never understood that union. To me, he was a despot, the ultimate authority that you responded to with 'yes, sir' or 'no,sir' or risked his righteous wrath while she was the other side of the coin. I could talk with her and ask questions. She told me of Indian legends, taught me how to cook, pointed out star constellations to me while sitting on the front porch in the dark and quiet with the night insects wailing away. The environment was so rural that you could see the ecliptic of the galaxy which initiated a whole new line of inquiry from me that continues to this day.
Toward the end of that summer with only a few days left before I started the 10th grade, we went over to a neighbor's house to use their phone to call mom. Nope, grandma didn't have a phone. Mom was glad to talk with me saying that she missed us and that she would meet us at the bus station to take us home where she would have our favorite supper ready. As it turned out, she wasn't at the bus station and I had to call from the bus station pay phone (no cells back then either) and she told me to call a cab. Taxis were our main transport since we didn't have a car. My brother and I arrived at the duplex we were renting at the time and the place was a mess. She told me she didn't have time to clean house and fix dinner and told me to fix something to eat and she went back to bed. I prepared some hamburger, potatoes and green beans. My brother asked what was wrong with her while I was cooking and I replied that she wasn't feeling good. As we ate, I remember hating coming back to that environment, a place of seemingly endless responsibility. I wanted to go back to grandma's and get lost in those woods again, this time forever, just me and those 3 dogs as my eternal companions.
The next couple of years passed with more of the same and myself getting more restless and impatient. It seemed the only refuge I had was in some of the classes that I really enjoyed and the homework that they entailed - most notably, science and English/Literature classes. Any science class from the 9th grade forward had my full attention; no passing notes (didn't have IM) or sleepiness. I found that science stuff fascinating. I fear that was the birth of the nerdy side of me. The English/Literature classes were mainly reading and writing. The reading part was what really opened my eyes to the possibilities, to the world full of people and places, of history, of other ways of life in both past and present...information! It seems that every English teacher that I had from grades 9 - 12 stressed writing; themes, essays, short stories, etc. I remember the first short story that I wrote in the 9th grade when we were tasked with writing an ending to a story that ended with a man having to choose between two doors - behind one was a hungry, man eating tiger and certain death, and behind the other, his lady love and long life. Later that week after the teacher had read them all, she announced that she was going to read aloud the one that she thought was the best and proceeded. As she started reading, I realized, to my horror, that she was reading my work. I sat there still as a rock, pleading to the gods please, oh please, don't let her tell who wrote it. When she finished, she turned to me and told me that was a great story. And, yes, the gods didn't listen to me in those days either. I enjoyed the respite those classes gave me. By the way, in my story ending, the guy kills the tiger, gets his lady, skewers the gizzard of the unjust, jealous king, gets the kingdom and lives happily ever after. Ahhhh, if things were really that simple these days.
At the beginning of the 12th grade, after another summer of frustration, continuing conditions and dropping hints, I decided for change. This decision wasn't a spur of the moment thing. I remember calling mom late one night toward the end of her shift telling her that I wouldn't be there when she got home, that I was leaving and she needs to come straight home because I didn't want my brother to be alone for too long. After hanging up, I hugged him and told him I was leaving and he asked if he was coming, too. I said no and he asked when will I be back and I said that I didn't know. I told him to stay in the apartment and mom will be home in a few minutes. It was nearly midnight on a Friday. I picked up the small duffel bay of clothes and walked out closing the door behind me. I walked over to a dark stairwell a couple of apartment buildings over to make sure he would be all right. Mom arrived about 10 minutes later and went into the apartment and come storming right back out screaming my name in somewhat indelicate terms. That went on for a couple of minutes then she went back inside slamming the door. I sat there for a few more minutes and then left, going over to a friend's house whose parents knew what was going on with me. I felt terrible. The friend's parents had prepared a room for me and when I arrived they asked if they could do anything. I told them thanks but no and I wanted to be alone and I went to that room where I cried for some time, hating myself, hating mom, hating myself even more because I wouldn't be there to protect and care for my brother. I promised myself over and over during that time that I would never have a family, that they were too much hardship and pain. I fell asleep and awoke a couple of hours later and left before the rest of the household got up. Odd...I wonder if that is why I don't have a family now. Do the promises that we make to ourselves as a child bind us as an adult.? If so, I have to wonder about other promises I may have made that I don't recall but are still adhering to at a subliminal level.
Throughout the following years mom and I would experience brief times when we would communicate long distance and it would go OK for a couple of months but it always ended with her trying to configure my life to her goals. The last conversation I had with her was in '89 when she got really intense about wanting grandchildren and what was wrong with me? Why am I not keeping in close contact with her and my brother? She was always trying to push my brother toward me and mold the three of us into a normal family. Why wasn't I married with children? Why haven't I bought a house yet? Am I gay? At that point, I realized people don't change and terminated the relationship once and for all. In the early 90's one of my uncles located me and told me she was dying of cancer and wanted to see me. It took him a couple of calls but I finally relented. He told me that she had changed and wanted to talk with me but, as it turns out, she hadn't changed...still running the same old program. It seems that people don't ever change even when a lifetime of doing things a certain way hasn't worked, they still persist in employing the same strategies. It would seem that with the force of death quickly approaching, it would grant some clarity but I guess not for some people unwilling to give up their egotistical goals even at the end of the road. She died less than a couple of months later and when I heard, I cried, and to this day I have absolutely no idea why.
So now you have an idea of the context of the family life that I was part of, some of the influences that shaped me and my responses to several environmental pressures. Some would say that it wasn't an ideal environment but what childhood is? Though they differ in style and substance, each of us had our challenges during those times and somehow we found the strength to endure. Maybe an important thing is that even though we carry some baggage around with us, we don't let it rule how we see the world or people later in life; that no matter how distasteful circumstances may currently be, they are only temporary. New ones will arise to assume their place.
As for contacting my half-brother and explaining my situation to him, I don't see the need. To do so at this time would be a waste of resources. One of the questions he asked me when we began communication again was to inquire about my relationship with J.R. Ewing. See what I mean? Our interpretation systems share very little. When things change, I'll contact him again and resume where we left off. He may have a question or two but that will be about it.
Good night, Snake Plisskan, wherever you are.
David
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