Greetings, fellow humans,The days are long and hot, wet and humid, and I thank the spirit of the universe for the existence of ICE. It seems that my world moves between hot and cold with brief interludes of the temperature being just right; the type that promotes good sleeping and comfort, and the kind of temps where I'm cold or waking up sweating. I think that the homeless in Hawaii have a distinct advantage in this respect. Continuing in the same vein as the last post - there have often been non-humans in my life, as I'm sure have been in yours, life-forms that have shared an emotional bond unequaled in other relationships, a subscription of depth enjoyed by the human and non-human counterparts. I have been fortunate to enjoy my participation in three of those relationships. Mookie, I have already shared with you. The other two were, in my estimation, of the same high emotional/intelligence caliber; both sharing a subjective resonance that few human/animal relationships reflect.Chief...ahh, yes, Chief, half Doberman, half German Sheppard, a great hunter who humped anything in sight with a vagina. He was a 'people' dog. He lived with me for nearly three years. He began life his life with me in Bay Minette, AL when he was five months old, already house broken and trained by a young woman who drove a Vette - this was in the mid-70s. She was hot with long blond hair and tall, and yes, I wanted to initiate reproductive activities with her but I was in awe of her beauty and demeanor...and, well, basically, I was too much of a dumb ass, too unsophisticated, plus her boyfriend didn't like me. At that time, in my early twenties, I didn't smoke anything, drink, do meth or marching powder, inject anything, do shroons or participate in any pagan rituals. Maybe that lack of activity on my part was a major drawback for her. I played tennis a lot and went to karate classes four days a week while working on a pipeline maintenance crew which involved a lot of sweating.During that time, I rented a trailer in the woods, about a quarter-mile from the nearest neighbor. From what I heard from them, Chief and the other canines in the area formed a pack of dogs of several types, raising mischief in the area all day; all good natured, of course. I let him out in the morning when I went to work and he was always at the trailer waiting on me in the afternoon when I got off work, probably tired from the day's activities with his friends. He came with me whenever I went to play tennis, frolicking with the other dogs at the courts. Seemed liked nearly everyone had a canine companion in that small town.Whenever Chief needed to do 'business' in the middle of the night, he would bark a couple of times to wake me up, sometimes jumping on the bed in a not-so-gentle manner to ensure my participation in his time of need. I would open the back door and he would jump nearly three feet to the ground and leap back up when he was finished. On the weekends, we would tromp through the woods for several hours at a time. I would bring some dry dogfood for him and a sandwich for me, of which he sometimes partook of.One time I prepped a meal and sat down to eat when the phone rang. Yes, in those days, if you wanted to talk on a phone, you had to have a dime for the payphone or you utilized the landline; no cellphone, text messaging or any PC based new-finagled technology. Anyway, I finished the call and sat back down at the table when I noticed the steak was gone. The mashed taters, sliced tomatoes and green beans were untouched. I looked over at Chief who was sitting by the table wagging his tail, his ears perked, head tilted a bit as if asking Anymore? How could I be pissed? I routinely gave him a a bite or two of what I was eating - left over hotdog, burger, etc. It was a meatless meal but all future meals were closely guarded.I think I mentioned that I played tennis a lot in those days. There were several tennis courts in that town; a junior college was there, too. Chief was always with me, unleashed, playing with other canines, doing what they do. Of course, he would be trying to hump everything in sight or fighting or dominating to prove his mettle. One day he, in some way, without any training on my part, appointed himself as primary ball retriever when I was practicing my serve. He came through an open gate and started bringing the balls back to me, some slightly damp. He developed a wariness after a ball or two hit him accidentally when he wandered into the target area, displaying a respect for tennis balls traveling at warp 100.One time when I was playing a match, I saw Chief being run over by a truck on one of the small side streets. I saw him being rolled under the vehicle by the impact. The lead weight in the stomach, despair, dread...yeah, I experienced those feelings when I saw the event. My best friend hurt, hearing his vocals of pain, I ran over to...to do something. When I got there, he was up and limping on his left front paw. I petted him and checked his paw, noting nothing was broken. Within a few minutes, he was running about as always, no worse for the experience. I think that is the first time I thanked the spirit of the universe for watching out for me and mine. I did notice in the days after that he seemed to have discovered a respect for fast moving vehicles by not blindly running onto paved surfaces.Despite being well-trained and obedient, he had a habit which some found annoying and some found hilarious. His genes gifted him with a long snout, of which he routinely put in the crotch of any unwary human female which brought the response nice doggy!, and giggles while their hands were pushing his head away. I never tried to break him of that habit probably due to my lack of maturity. His behavior did bring the comment, on many occasions, of how a dog reflects the behavior of the human owner. . As we became known in the community, the word got out and the women were always prepared. Our life situation changed when I transferred to the City, the place of the disco lights. I moved into an apartment where Chief ran wild while I was at work. I had a moral difficultly keeping him locked up in an apartment all day long and didn't think it would be a problem with him roaming the property, he being a friendly sort. Apparently, as it got back to me, fellow residents who didn't know him had a problem with a big dog with large teeth that just wanted to play. After a couple of weeks of living there, I came home one day to find him chained up at the manager's office...and that hurt. Chief had never been constrained in such a manner, never been penned up. He always obeyed whatever I said even if I never knew how he knew what I was saying. Maybe some woman took exceptional...exception to having a long snout stuffed in her crotch by a dog she didn't know. For the next couple of weeks I boarded him at a kennel which I didn't like and I know that he didn't like. I could only see him on weekends; getting him Friday evening and returning him Monday morning.I ended up giving him to a friend of a co-worker who lived near some woods and had a large fenced yard. He also had two kids in grammar school. I soon met them one day after work at the kennel where Chief was staying. They came in a single cab truck. Chief was excited as he always was when I came for him, as I was but I wasn't excited this time. I asked them to give us a few minutes and I told Chief the situation, that we had to part, that he would be happier at his new home. He seemed to understand, judging by his behavior of rubbing against me and his vocals. I remember walking him to their truck and saying stupid shit like ' be a good dog', etc. He hopped into the truck and sat between the two kids. I spent a couple of minutes talking to their father and noticed that they were getting along well. I remember feeling like shit but it was the best alternative that I could think of considering the circumstances. As they pulled out of the parking lot, I thought that I was seeing the last of a good friend who shared many good times during the course of our association. At that moment as their truck stopped before making a right turn, Chief turned around and looked back at me. We held eye contact for a few moments before the truck made the turn. I had the impression that he knew the circumstances and with his look, saying goodbye and that our association will be missed, that our time together was enjoyable and fulfilling. For several days afterward, I missed him. I felt that I had let a friend down. During the next four or five months, my co-worker told me of Chief's exploits and I knew he was doing well, happy where he was and the people that he was living with. But I remembered him from time to time throughout the years as a friend, a companion. The sharpness of our association and our parting has dulled with the passing of years but an echo of the intensity remains.You are dead now, Chief, but I hope your years were filled with good food, good relationships and the occasional thought of me, as mine have been of you. And, of course, the occasional unguarded, defenseless steak.Next time,David
Hiya, troopers,Hope things are going well for you. I'm getting by from day to day which cannot be said by the current inhabitants of your local cemetery. No responses yet from the resumes I sent out regarding entry level CEO positions - go figure...This has been the wettest summer in the Dallas area since I moved here in '89. Well, at least in my memory. It rained nearly everyday over a three-week span, usually in the late afternoon or late evening. It is somewhat difficult to deal with when your vehicle doesn't have AC but I found a measure that is effective; that of pulling into a self-serve car wash, parking under the canopy in of one of the vacuum bays and opening the doors of BT to let the breeze cool off the interior and my young hide. It seems the Northeast are having some problems with the heat. I'm just glad the oil slick in the Gulf hasn't ignited from a lightning strike or by a terrorist. That situation is saddening. I had many good times on the Gulf Coast, ones that I remember fondly. Many people live there because of the lifestyle and now that's been taken from them by an irresponsible corporate entity. I'm thinking pitchforks and torches myself...I finished reading Ancestors by Scott Siegler yesterday; only took a couple of days - my fingers move fast. It is an engaging book about genetic manipulation and corporate greed with various subplots. It all works well. In the first third of the book, there were three things that really struck a chord. I never read a book that that reflected some of my actual experiences. No, none of them involved faster-than-light travel, anti-matter warheads or four-titted humanoid females.First, on my last IT contract there were occasions where I would whip up a batch of brownies (not the magic kind but, oh, was I tempted)and take them to work where they didn't last much longer than a snowball in hell. They were greeted with much fanfare and joy, and when asked about the recipe, I replied that it was a recipe that my maternal grandmother taught me when I was a child. In actuality, she is the influence that oriented toward the culinary arts...such as they are...or were. On the last day of my contract, I sent out an email sharing that the generations-held recipe was actually Duncan Hines brownie mix with the addition of pecans and/or walnuts added, with olive oil substituted. In the book, there is an interplay between a couple of characters about the home-made brownies that one of them made from a long-held family recipe. The other character replied that they must be related because this came from her family recipe by the name of Duncan Hines. Yes, this gave me a few moments of mirth after reading. And I thought I was sooo original...Second, every work environment should have a 'battle cry', a call to arms to rally the troops against the amassed forces of evil. So it is in the library branch that I have the privilege of being part of a team that pushs back.'YOUR FACE!' Now , I've never heard that saying beyond the branch environment, It originated from one of the personnel, Sara. Yes, she is hot; in fact, smokin' hot, Intelligent, attractive, sense of humor, puts up with my shit...and she shares her food with me. What more could a guy ask? Easy there, Clyde, she's married. I know, a lotta of the good ones are taken. In the book, there is a interplay between a couple of the characters where that saying is employed.'Your face is a brownie.''You are such a sock.' 'Your face is a sock.'This, too, gave me a few moments of mirth...Lastly, concerns a dog named Mookie that I had the privilege of knowing - a Jack Russel/terrier/somethingor the other mixed breed...and smart. She weighed 20 - 23 pounds, had a white-coat background with large black spots. When she looked at you, her right ear would flip over halfway while the other stayed fully erect. Her eyes had a fire in therm, one of curiosity and adventure, a shine in them that said whatever I was up to, she was wanting part. No, she wasn't my dog but the canine companion of the human female that I shared intimate moments with...many times over the span of a couple of years. I wasn't working during that time and Mookie spent a lot of time with me. There were woods within walking distance that she and I frequented in all types of weather. The area was heavily wooded with a large creek that flowed through - fish, cranes, hawks, squirrels (we'll get back to that), rabbits, skunks, etc. Mook's owner wasn't an 'outside' person but the Mook was an outside dog and liked roaming the woods with me for hours at a time. The first few times that we went to the woods, it seemed a new world opened up for her. She lived with four cats and a human so the interaction didn't include our jungle friends. She was wantonly chasing birds, butterflies and stopping to smell everything. Needless to say, our adventures in the woods consisted of several hours each trip which resonated my earlier experiences as a child living at my grandmother's.The Mook had a personality. She had a affection for Vienna sausages, those in the small can. She knew that I was fully stocked since I had a couple with crackers while sharing a can with her the first time. There were times she would sit in front of me and look me in the eyes, though I was pretending to ignore her since I knew what she wanted and was manipulating me to open that can. I would move my eyes in another direction and she would reposition to ensure she was in my field of vision, attempting to reacquire eye contact. When I put my hand over my eyes, she would growl and bark as if saying, Give me my sausages, bitch, I know you have some! And I would because I'm such a soft touch.The Mook is the only canine that I have known that could chase down a squirrel. For those of you that are unacquainted with a squirrel's speed, let me assure you that those creatures have much quickness. She didn't know what to do after she caught them and in that fleeting moment of hesitation, the squirrel wasn't hanging around to find out since there was always a tree a yard or two away. Mookie was gifted with the ability of high-speed in short distances - at least in those days. She is four years older now and probably not as quick. I know I ain't. While I was in the relationship with her owner, I would grill Porterhouse steaks and save the bones for Mookie and a neighbor's dog. One time, I gave a bone to Mook and the Duke, a neighbor's black Lab - there was always fat and meat left on the bone. Duke promptly finished his bone and went after Mook's where he was greeted with a short, low-pitched growl from Mook of which Duke promptly did a 180 as if saying Don't want any part of that shit, leaving Mook to enjoy her bone in peace.A thing about the Mook is that she never backed down from other dogs. When a male tryed to mount her, he was greeted with fangs and claws. She was not a dog's dog, she was more of a person's dog. She preferred the company of people, maybe because of an opposable thumb needed to open a can of Vienna sausages, and the petting machines that we humans can be.I last saw Mook over 18 months ago when I happen to drive by her dog-sitter's place. She saw my truck and made a beeline toward it, recognizing it and me It was in the cooler months. She had grown a bit, the white background of her coat wasn't as white as it used to be. She greeted me enthusiastically and I hugged her and said things about how I missed her, how is she doing and other stupid stuff. During those exchanges, I noticed her eyes. That gleam in her eyes was gone, replaced by a dullness, as if the excitement was displaced with melancholy. The zest seemed to be gone. We spent a few more minutes together and then she walked back to the dog-sitter's apartment - that's another story about the darkness of human nature. But just before Mook rounded a corner that would take her from my sight, she stopped and looked back at me, her ears perked up with tail wagging slightly. We held each other's eyes for a few moments longer until the moment was broken by the dog-sitter's demands to come.She is one of the non-humans that I think of occasionally, that I hope is doing well or at least lived well with caring humans in their world who took care of them and loved them.At any rate, in the book, there was a canine of nearly the same breed named Mookie who the author portrayed as having the same attributes - those of courage, adventure, fun-loving, an elan for life...and, of course, a penchant for Vienna sausages and the occasional Porterhouse bone that had been grilled, with a significant amount of fat and meat still attached.Hope you are doing well, Mook, and keeping those four cats in line.Take care.Next time,David
Greetings, fellow humans,Hope you are doing well and are being careful on the southern beaches. Never can tell when a rabid pelican might get all postal on you because our species screwed up the place where he lived. Yeah, that situation wouldn't read too well in your obit.My summer is just a bit different from the past couple. If you recall, I enjoyed the environment of a 'party pool' that I visited on the weekends that consisted of water volleyball, nonstop grilling, much beer guzzling, music, repeated human female breast exposure, frequent visits by human authority figures, human female skinny dipping and mostly good times by all. During the week, I visited the 'quiet pool'. the one that was mostly shaded with a cool water temperature throughout the summer, that was seldom visited. The waterfall provided a smooth and pleasant backdrop to the environment.This summer, I don't visit the party pool because the cool people have moved to houses. We have occasionally got together at someone's house but the atmosphere at the party pool has changed. There is a woman that assumed the role of alpha male - no, you read that right; a queen bee if you will. The past couple of summers, she was contained by the superior social techniques of the rest of the pool group, relegated to the background because of her caustic social technique. Now, with everyone gone and a new group of people moved into the complex, she dominates the environment. I have visited twice. The first time, I noticed how the atmosphere had changed, of how she strove to dominate the environment. The second time, I was walking toward that pool and heard her voice, turned around and went to another pool in the complex. I do miss the water volleyball...sigh... Thank god there is more than one pool at the place. Since the warmer temperatures have returned to this area, I visit the quiet pool on a daily basis, usually from 6 PM to 9:30 PM to cool down BT is parked in the shade so that she can cool down, too, which can make the difference between a good night's sleep and a fretful one. So far this tactic seems to be working with regard to my ability to sleep comfortably for a few hours. I awake between 5 - 6 AM, get some ice water, take a morning constitutional to make the mountains tremble, have a morning smoke and relocate to a 'pausing spot' to get an hour or two more of sleep, read a bit, spend some time on stuff.Food is somewhat varied as far as fast food goes. I eat a couple of times during the course of a day, spending $1 - $2 per meal. Thank god for value meals. In the mornings and last meal of the day, I usually eat a handful of nuts. Once but not more than twice a week, I eat at a salad bar at a grocery store for around $3 - it is reasonably priced, Yeah, fast food ain't the best for you but when it's all you can afford. Every now and then I eat a home-cooked meal. There are times when a meal comes from samples at grocery stores. I do long for the day when I can cook when I want and whatever strikes my fancy - porterhouse steaks, king crab legs, shrimp, chicken, pork - using crock pots, ovens, etc At work, I usually keep some sandwich meat and a loaf of bread.Once a week, I wash and dry a load of clothes for $3. My wardrobe is somewhat slim these days. All my winter stuff is stored at a friend's place. I found that I can get by just buying detergent and reusing softening sheets that I get out of garbage cans at the laundromat. I only pick the best ones. I tend to pass over the ones with beer and whiskey stains though; I found that they don't yield the best results that I strive for.I do a hard workout three times a week, usually a couple of hours. Two days a week, I spend an hour stretching out and some Plank stuff. Last time I weighed, I was around 200 lbs. Doubtless, my workout regimen and reduced calorie intake has something to do with that.Bartering with alcohol is a viable alternative to hard cash plus it seems that people are more apt to welcome you with open arms. There are a couple of places that I visit on a regular basis that offers a couch and food. I bring cheap whiskey to one and beer to the other. I prefer these alternatives rather than any sexual favors. I also help with yard work. I find that type of work satisfying at some level.Black Thunder continues to get by. despite not being 100%. Today I had her oil changed, thanks to the discount that the manager always gives me and also thanks to the lady who approached me at my sleeping spot around midnight on 6/21. She works at one of the business establishments in the strip mall that I guard. She said she was moved to give me a $20 and didn't know why. I thanked her and used that money to attend to BT.The thing is that I was thinking if I had enough funds to do that very thing, giving the extent of my current financial resources. I was thinking of saving some this check and some of next check but her contribution moved the issue to the front of the priority list.The spirit of the universe moves me but it also moves the people in my world. Now, if it only move the winning lotto numbers my way.Later,David
Hiya,Hope you are having a good June. The 4th is right around the corner, lurking in the warm shadows of summer with the promise of cold beer, pool fun, grilled animal flesh and music.As an IT hourly contractor, my job performance reviews were on a daily basis, meaning that if they didn't send you home early, you were doing a good job. However, as a city employee, I am sucked into that empty dimension of futility twice a year, namely the performance review process. To further punish me for my non-existent sins, the gods have decreed that the guy who fills out my performance review is an arrogant, ass-kissing wimp with an authority problem who wants everyone to respect his great leadership. In reality, we all try to keep him out of the loop as much as possible because his approach to situations mirrors that of Wily E. Coyote's famed strategizing and we all know how those turned out. For some reason, he insists on treating me as his inferior and for some reason, I insist on behaving as his equal. The manager told me that the reason he acts like that is that I intimidate him and he is trying to compensate. I told the manager that the boy has no business in a leadership position with that attitude, that it is counter-productive and doesn't make any positive contributions to the environment.Remember the TV series MASH? There was a character in the show named Frank Burns who craved authority and whined that people didn't respect his leadership abilities. That's the guy who fills out my performance report. He even looks like a skinnier version of him. His comments are subjective and biased, and doesn't contain any hard metrics. My work at the Library branch is physical in nature, meaning that from mid-April to the end of September, I sweat. I should be categorized in that review as 'SOB works like a mother f---- and everybody likes him'. Instead, he nitpicks about imaginary things and grudgingly admits I do an average job of which my team mates know better. When I read his comments he wrote in my first review, I thought he's young, stupid, has delusions of adequacy and greatness...let it slide. And then I thought, naw, take him apart and let him know that he can't just write anything and not expect it to be challenged which I have done each time, pointing out the errors, inconsistencies and outright fabrications, asking for examples of a particular instance for validation and noting how his feedback reeks.Now, the thing that kinda bothers me is the time I devote to that bullshit, is time that I could be devoting to my main writing project, if I had a competent, mature lead. I wish I could respond to the entire performance review as This is bullshit! but I found that properly constructed sentences refuting aspects of the review go a lot further in lending credibility to the feedback and might possibly be used as a learning experience in his ongoing training as an assistant manager.Yeah, well, it hasn't happened so far...Over the past five or six weeks, I put the writing project on hold and devoted that time to constructing cost saving suggestions to the Library system. A 'suit' downtown sent out an email several weeks ago soliciting suggestions. Before that time, I had asked around for such a conduit but no one knew; couldn't even find the topic in the DPL manual. I'm glad the email was sent out because I had some ideas that I thought would benefit the system, both in reduction of material, labor and procedures. I've received positive feedback but who knows - they could be giving me a reach around.Among the suggestions I have submitted concerned, yep, the performance review form of my function, reducing it from 30 pages to 10 pages. I included algorithms to retrieve and process information from the database to quantify an individual's performance. I also suggested a peer-to-peer appraisal and the guidelines thereof. I also suggested an employee-to-supervisor appraisal and the guidelines thereof.From what I heard, Frank Burns didn't care for that idea.Gods, I hope you don't have to contend with soul-draining crap like this.Later,David
Greetings ya'll,Hope you are doing well.During the course of my working life, I've had the privilege of working with, on occasion, a team of individuals that meshed seamlessly in terms of social technique, shared values and an adherence to a goal, whether in IT or the Library system or in gay biker snuff films. In those instances, there was a shared commitment among team members to accomplish a goal where the phrase 'not my job' was never said. If one needed help, someone or someones were always ready to assist.The Library branch where I'm currently employed is such an environment. The ongoing fiscal unpleasantness in the Dallas municipality has presented my team with challenges such as reduced personnel and reduced hours (less pay). Then there is the element of incompetent leadership who surfs the web most of his shift and a social inept; factor in those elements and you have the recipe for Armageddon.A good team doesn't need any management; at least, this one doesn't.Despite these drawbacks, the team I'm working with are more successful than we were since October 2009. A dissident element was transferred to another branch at that time, an element that all agreed upon should have been severed 'with extreme prejudice' from the Library system. Subsequently, productivity increased despite reduced personnel, the atmosphere improved - flowers started blooming, birds started singing, children began frolicking andthe day wasn't cloudy... all day.Through all that bullshit, the core team pulled through, accomplishing team goals, communicating and coordinating among ourselves, without leadership, ensuring that we provided the highest level of service to our library patrons.And now, elements of the team are disengaging or seeking to disengage from the environment, seeking and/or securing positions elsewhere. The reasons include poor leadership that is unappreciative of what the team is accomplishing with reduced resources, leadership that refuses to participate when every one else is busting their ass while he surfs the web, and the fiscal environment that promises more cuts...at the bottom of the Library hierarchy, both in personnel and pay. Hey, what can you expect - the Chiefs always get rid of all the Indians before they start tearing into each other. I'm going to miss working with them. They were intelligent, possessed a superior work ethic, executed an impeccable interpersonal technique and possessed a sense of humor. And they were attractive young women. I met their significant others and had several gatherings with them off site and enjoyed myself immensely.I will miss them,David
Greetings, fellow bipeds,I have great news. I'm receiving a refund form the IRS totaling $601.The bad news is that since I owe the IRS a significant amount of back taxes, they have decided in their benevolent way, to keep it and apply to my account. I can certainly appreciate their heart-felt concern and assistance in aiding me in addressing my debt but it seems that their approach lacks a 'measured' enforcement in collecting taxes - at least, at the individual level. Surely, it wouldn't be that difficult to implement a software package that would give the IRS personnel some latitude in granting exceptions instead of a black and white stance of you owe us, we keep it and you damn well better feel thankful. Please, check my math on this, there can't be that many people in circumstances like mine - living out of a vehicle, working a 20 hour work week at $9 an hour, etc. Somehow, I don't think this segment of the U.S. population constitutes a formidable voting bloc or has the resources to employ some much- loved lobbyists or has a significant impact of the GNP.I like to think that I'm actually saving tax-payer money by living this way - for now. I miss a meal now and then, I don't spend as much as I used to due to a different lifestyle and I don't tip like I used to because that is not an option at the fast food drive-thrus.If I went to a homeless shelter, the cost to society would substantially increase. I've made it this far by luck, an occasional home cooked meal and a sofa to sleep on - all from a few friends.I could have used that $601 to repair a couple of things on BT, that if you recall is my transport and domicile. If she no longer functions, then I will have to do the shelter thingy.Snow...snow...and more snow. Jeez... In the Dallas area, we were an half-inch from breaking a record. I do wonder where those snowfall measuring thingys are located in the area but yes, I think we broke the record this year. The first couple of times of significant snowfall, people were out building snowmen (didn't see any snow-women...those would be fun to build!), having snowball fights, dogs frolicking, squirrels frolicking. Didn't see any cats outside, though. The last snowfall, I didn't see anybody. Mommy, make the snow and cold go away. It ain't fun anymore. It seems people had enough. The forecast was for an half-inch accumulation but it was more than that, judging from the several inches that I had to remove from BT. That was pretty easy due to the waxing I gave her the previous weekend - the snow just slid right off.I'm glad that BT made it through this winter; the coldest, the iciest, the wettest and the snowiest since she and I started on this path. One challenge completed, the next one begins...In a way, the snowfall was surreal. I'd bed down for the night with just a few flakes drifting out of the sky and awake around 5 AM, the cabin near total darkness. Normally, there are night lights at my camping spot, lights that usually shut down around 7 AM. Inches of snowfall on BT tend to block light, and provide another layer of insulation which keeps the interior warmer. There were a couple of times this winter when I back flipped outta BT to find my young supple self in several inches of snow. I got BT running, removed the snow covering from her young hide, did some jumping jacks and one-armed push ups in the snow, and went on my way.Next time,David
Hello,Hope you having a good day.Still bringing you up to date...I haven't worked out since November. The place where I did, the one with the party pool, had seriously deteriorated. The majority of the exercise machines were unusable and the barbells were largely gone except for the 60 lb. and above. The thieving wimps didn't steal those - weak-assed bitches. The place was always in disarray, and I use that term lightly. Doors had holes punched in them, mirrors on the walls were broken, bath rooms were unsightly, etc. I really can't blame the management. Why repair something when it's going to be trashed in short order? That area is now predominately Section 8 housing. That designation is always financially lucrative for property management but detrimental to the neighborhoods.And my camping spot is a couple of blocks west of that location.The place I depended on for showers was also degrading in terms of maintenance. It is also part of the city budget and experienced personnel reductions as well as reduced operational hours. The yearly membership is $15 and they do have a weight room - all 500 square feet for an additional $10 a month. I did not participate in that. I could take two shaved cats, hold them by a tail in each hand, rotate 360 degrees and both of them would have hit a wall. To put it another way, two people in that room would constitute over-crowding.The above two conditions were not optimal and I have resources, limited as they are, to research other options. From a health standpoint, workouts are a necessity both physically and emotionally. Acceptable standards of the cleanness of the shower facilities are also a factor.I found an amicable environment in an adjoining municipality. An indoor lap pool and regular pool both heated to 83 degrees though the first time I tested the water, I thought it was a little chilly. But then again, I never entered a pool in February. The facility is much cleaner, with multiple shower stalls and expanded operational hours, locker room, basketball court, indoor running track, outdoor pool and workout areas that easily total 7000 square feet - lots of free weights, weight machines, large screen TVs, towels provided, etc. They have a weight machine on premises that...weighs you. I thought that since I haven't worked out in a while, and that my diet consists mainly of fast food, I would weigh heavier than expected. Not so, sparky, I came in at 210 lbs. - lean as a hungry tiger with the reflexes thereof.Did I mention the depth of the lap pool? Twelve feet at the deep end to satisfy my dolphin instincts. Keep in mind that over the last couple of decades that the deepest pools that I swam in were at most five feet deep. It was somewhat satisfying to dive deep to the bottom and shoot upward, breaking the surface in a gentle spray of water, porpoising in the air while catching a fish the lifeguard threw me and splash back into the water with all the splendor and majesty of an orca playing in the open ocean with the baby seals.All this for only $13 a month. I consider it a deal. And they have contemporary music piped in, not rap or Manilow. My routine is a hard workout Sun, Tue and Thu with a light workout on Wed and Sat. with maybe a light swim. The members are of a higher social economic class, definitely no low-lifes present...except for me of course. Hope they don't find out.After last Saturday's swim, I exited the pool, thanked the lifeguard for all the fish, showered and went to work.Ahhhh, life is good.Later,David
Hiya,Hope this finds you well. You know - good food, one or two daily orgasms, maybe some lotto winnings. Maybe just loved ones telling you how much you are appreciated in the course of their lives even though they rag on you constantly. And, of course, the faithful companionship of a non-human life-form.I had an encounter with the human authority figures a few nights ago; a positive one. While at my camping spot, a cruiser pulled in front of BT around 10:30 PM while I was preparing to tuck in for the night. They, being a couple of officers, didn't turn on the light bar and sirens which is a good thing. I rolled down the driver's side window as he approached and asked how can I help. He was cordial and nice, and said he was checking on me. He called me by name and asked how things are going. He mentioned that this environment is not the safest and I agreed, saying that my choices are somewhat limited at this time. He asked if I had any outstanding warrants or tickets and I replied, none that I am aware of and asked him to check by handing him my driver's license. There were none, which indicated that law enforcement was oblivious of my activities in the global crime network; distributing weapons, drugs and drunken emus to the masses...and the occasional assassin pygmy. Hey, a guy has to make ends meet. After that incident during the next three weeks, there were a few nights when I awoke, due to a disturbance in the Force, to find a couple of cruisers parked off to my port side about 30 meters away. They were just sitting there around 3:30 PM. I don't mind that; kinda sends a message to the community that the area is under watch.As I may have mentioned before, the majority of the police officers are cool - it's the ones with an authority chip on their shoulders that are difficult to deal with.Moving on...As you are aware, unless you have just emerged from a lengthy hibernation, that there is a financial stress on a global scale. Of course, that is trickling down to the monthly incomes of the ordinary people like you and me who bust our ass earning our wage without the seven figure yearly bonus that our great leaders enjoy. As you have put together by now, I work part-time at a branch library in the Dallas system, namely 25 hours a week at $9 an hour. I know - a fookin' fortune by any measure. These hours have been reduced due to fiscal constraints to 20 hours a week for all part-time employees...of which there ain't many in the system. This action was taken by the suits downtown in an effort to save more money. I've yet to hear of any of those suits being laid off - one of their salaries far surpasses what a part-timer makes. Let's bottom line it - reduction of five hours a week means 20 hours a month which translates to nearly $200 less a month for my vast global financial empire to employ, if my Willie E. Coyote math is right. Normally, I can save $100 per check if I don't have expenses like insurance, repairs, vehicle renewals, etc.And that means I need another supplemental part-time job - around 16 hours a week near the same hourly rate.I checked at a few convenience stores and they have reduced the employees' hours at those locations. That is not exactly an encouraging sign. With the reduced hours, I altered my work schedule to working Tue, Wed and Sat., freeing up the remainder of the week for other pursuits. If nothing else, the extra free time will provide more opportunities for additional effort on the project.But if I can't find a supplemental part-time job, my exorbitant lifestyle will experience a significant modification.Oh, well...Next time,David
Hiya,The court thing...My man bag experienced a problem the first time through the security gate. I was asked/requested/ordered to empty the contents for examination. Of course, I complied since I left the grenades, knives, two weapons and their reloads in BT. I also left the only two orgasm bombs I have remaining in the vehicle. They are area-effect devices with a 4 kilometer range that, when detonated, momentarily ...distracts... men and women for a few moments. Anyway, I emptied the contents - cell, digital voice recorder, change that I keep in a Ziploc bag, cigs, lighters, nail file, a couple of note pads and several pens, wallet, keys, compact mirror, candy, etc. There was also the dental floss. I thought of saying I could kill all of you with this floss to the officers but realized humor could be counter-productive at this juncture. They were satisfied that nothing untoward was in my purse and waved me through. However, they didn't realize that they just allowed the deadliest weapon on the planet into the premises - me. I have spent years forging my body within the fire of my will, transforming it into a unstoppable death-dealing machine that is...never mind. At the appointed time, I entered the courtroom with the other citizens and OMG, I was glad that there were officers present. Naturally, the first bench was vacant and I planted my young ass right there and removed my cap and bitch purse. After a few minutes, another officer came into the court room followed by the judge...and she was hot. No sirree, no old crony but an attractive woman. I thought if she saw me licking my eyebrows, she would immediately dismiss the ticket. Now, the thing is, when both entered the room, they looked right at me making eye-contact. It wasn't as if I was the only one there - the place was packed. I was suave and debonair and to my credit, didn't puke out of fright. I did wonder what was going on that I was identified right off the bat. It's not like I'm there on a daily basis. As the procedure goes, if they call out your name at scheduled times, you were given a free pass - citation dismissed. My name wasn't called the first couple of times and I thought I was in for the long haul with the worst possible outcome. I made arrangements at work that I wasn't going to be there that day. There were a couple of breaks in the proceedings that I used for smoke breaks outside, after properly bundling up. I pulled the hood up and endured. I noticed a few homeless wandering about, digging in trash cans on the city streets. They were wrapped in whatever insulation they could find. Looking at them, I thanked the spirit of the universe for granting me what resources I possess. A short time before noon, the court had another 'free pass' session where if they call your name, you are free to go. The officer ran down the list, calling out full names in a monotone voice, processing each person by stamping a form and giving it to them. And then he said 'Mr. Jones' in a different voice, looking right at me, and so did the judge. Kinda made me nervous but again, I didn't puke or soil myself out of fear. I walked to the officer's station where he stamped a piece of paper and gave it to me and directed me to another room. I expressed my appreciation for the kind consideration that I was granted and went to the indicated room. I was greeted by a woman by name who had a large, muscled officer. Is there a reason for having big guys with large weapon belts in such places?As I was handing her the stamped form, she cheerfully said, 'Good morning, Mr. Jones' and I replied in kind. She mentioned that I was noticed on location at a early hour. I said I wanted to make sure that I was on time. She updated the database and put another stamp on the form and handed it back to me. She told me I was free to go and to keep hanging in there.Now, all of us experience those trivial sayings throughout the course of a day. However, there are times when something else penetrates the armour of our daily concerns. Some would call it intuition where information is processed in a non-linear fashion that yields a result not obtainable by logic. It's always accompanied by an emotionless spike of understanding, bereft of egocentric concerns - at least that is how it goes for me. When she said keep hanging in there, it seemed to me she knew of my situation also. It seems that more people are aware of me that I am aware of them - unknown attention.Anyway, I have continued to sleep at the same location without any authoritative resistance.Later,David
Greetings fellow mammals,I've shared with you that my experiences with the human authority figures have been overwhelmingly positive since I've been in this lifestyle. The majority of the officers have displayed a balanced social responsibility to serve the greater good of society while maturely addressing individual needs. For example, to take down a horde of rampaging Amazonian pygmies rather than screw with me. All of my experiences in that context have been positive except for a couple.As you know, I sleep at the same place several nights of the week, arriving late at night when everyone is gone and leaving before business personnel arrive in the morning. I am known at that place, never to leave trash around, do not start bonfires or conduct human sacrifice rituals. The last is always so cumbersome - the chanting, the calling forth of the lap dogs of Satan and...well, the securing of a virgin these days can be quite daunting and time consuming.Well, my last negative police encounter was on December 9 of last year around 3:30 AM and it wasn't a shining example of public service by the Dallas finest. I was awakened by a few taps of BT's window by two officers. One was a younger dark hair guy who clearly didn't want any part of this event and the other was an old, grey-haired guy (OGG) that seemed liked he really, really wanted to prove who runs the streets.To make it short, OGG was really not suited, professionally or personally, to participate in public relations. I was given a citation 'for sleeping in public' and OGG said that 'I was not welcome here anymore'. He also said that he would drive by in an hour and he didn't want to see me there. Keep in mind, I have the permission of the property manager and the blessing of the business owners. Well, after he left, I thought for a few moments and went back to sleep. I thought that if this is the price I have to pay to sleep here, so be it. The next day, I checked online about the citation fine which is $150 and immediately thought this ain't good considering my monthly net is $800. On the back of the ticket I checked the box 'trial by judge' thinking I could plead my case and mailed it in several days later.A couple of weeks later,I received a notice to appear in court in downtown Dallas in late December. I was hoping that the citation would dismissed outright. I was sleeping inside the vehicle, not 'sleeping in public' as the citation was written. I could understand the reason for the citation if I was sleeping in the truck bed with disco music playing. On the appointed court date, I drove downtown in the early morning before the organized chaos that they call the commute got under way. Did I mention that the downtown scares me? Signs, signs, everywhere signs. I checked the location online and that helped a lot. I found a parking lot across the street from the courthouse ($6 daily) and counted my blessings.I went in and walked around, noticing a few people paying their fines, toured the place since my experience with such an institution is somewhat limited, located the courtroom where I needed to be at the scheduled time and located a bench nearby where I sat and read a book that I brought with me, Hey, I had a little over an hour to kill.The court date was during one of the coldest weeks in a Dallas winter - cold enough to put frost on the testicles of a cat. We'll get to that in a later entry; the winter, not a cat's testicles. I wore my best jeans, being the only ones I have and a thick pullover sweatshirt with a hood. Of course, I had a couple of layers underneath. My hair was in a ponytail with a black baseball cap that had a logo of some premium vodka. I know, not exactly the best attire for a court appearance but my team of lawyers had a schedule conflict, leaving me to take care of this thing. We'll finish up next time,David
Hello again, troopers,To continue...Ah yes, the Project - the series of books that I envision. That effort is progressing but not at the pace that I originally thought. Though I have all the chapters of the first book in various levels of development, I'm still honing my skills and continually revising.the drafts. Thoughts come out of nowhere about how to reword something better, to make a larger impact...which is why I have a digital voice recorder.Over the past few months, I have been participating in a writer's workshop. I have received valuable feedback that I'm employing in my work. I came to the conclusion that here is never a 'done' label that can be applied to a piece of writing but that it is in a continual 'draft' status. I've been applying that feedback to improve my writing over the past months. I also read books on the 'how-to' of writing - many things I'm doing right and there are many things I need to correct. I have read other authors, best selling ones, and found some of them ignore the rules. Oh well... Do understand that I'm unable to work on the Project on a persistent basis due to environmental and lifestyle constraints - too hot, too cold, not enough light - that force the work into the mental arena. There are times that I think that if I had a permanent residence, I could have the first installment already completed.But, alas, the gods do screw with me and want it done in this fashion. In the meantime, I work on it at every chance, in one form or another.I've taken some time away from the Project to construct the specifications for a website regarding this saga. There have been times when I paused at one of my...pausing spots and thought of the marketing for the first book. Since I am oriented at this point in time toward the non-traditional route of publishing, I won't be able to use the marketing infrastructure that the publishers have in place. At that pausing spot, there is a billboard that sparked the idea of renting that puppy out. No, I don't how much it would cost and, no, I don't know where the money would come from. Then it came to me on a starry night to establish a website that would reach more people than the ones driving, talking, eating, drinking, doing bong hits or having their breakfast martinis. Hey, I never said I was the sharpest tool in the shed. So I allocated a website name and initiated site specifications for the interface. One of the guys of the pool group is a web guru and said he would put it on his server for free. He also has a friend who helps him with the graphics on his own website who is willing to construct the graphics for mine - front and back covers. He mailed me some examples of his work and I liked what I saw. So hopefully within the next 4 - 6 weeks, the website should be accessible. It will have the front and back cover of the first book and a synopsis (book flap contents) and an advisory that the book will be available at year's end or the spring of the 2011. Life goes on...David
Greetings,To continue...As to the condition of my mobile living quarters, Black Thunder, she has been in better shape but she is still a contender. She looks good but in need of 3000 - 4000 bucks of attention to restore her to nearly 100% of baseline functionality. The winter season in Dallas started out more intense than usual, the past couple of weeks not withstanding, and cold weather and machinery are not a premium recipe to inspire confidence in the transport system that a person relies on heavily. One of BT's issues is a deteriorating fuel regulator that will cost nearly $500 to replace, most of that cost comprised of labor. I feel fortunate that she starts in the cold mornings after a few attempts. Well, I'm working on that issue. I had to spend $80 for a tire a couple of days ago. I noticed a significant lack of air pressure in the right rear tire and thought I could have it patched despite the baldness but alas, it was not to be. I'm glad I had the money but I was saving that for the fuel regulator. In the next couple of checks or three, I have to get another tire for the left rear side. This next check will be devoted to a $130 repair of the brakes and a $60 registration sticker.Oh, how the gods are having fun with me.The winter started out with a bang toward the end of the past year with two, yes, two, snow accumulations and with temperatures dipping to the mid-teens. Usually this area sees a flurry or two toward the end of January or early February. Recently, it has been more seasonable; like today, with high around mid-70's. I'm walking around in tank top and shorts with flops but I haven't thrown away the winter thongs just yet. There could be a couple more of those vicious cold fronts in our future.There have been a few times that I had to get BT up and running after a few hours of sleep because of the cold. On the coldest nights, I sleep in sweat pants (with athletic shorts underneath...and boxers) with my rippling torso layered with tank top, T-shirt, long-sleeved pull-over and a pull-over sweat top with hood. I leave the socks on, thank you. When I turn in for the night, I wrap a towel around my feet, position a blanket (Walmart special) over my young supple form, put another towel over my lower body and another towel over my upper body. When I lay down in the cab, my final preparation is to position a hand towel (have three) to cover my face, pushing the ends of the hand towel to each side of my face with the hood pulled up over the baseball cap I wear, keeping my mouth and nose from the biting air. Believe me, you will wake up if your nose gets too cold. And, yes, only my beady little eyes are visible.This keeps my nose from being uncomfortable and makes sleeping easier since the hand towel is warmed by facial heat, allowing me to breathe warmer air while I snore the night away. Without that small modification, sleep would be impossible even though the rest of the body is comfortable. I keep a bottle of water in BT and that has been frozen in the morning on those occasions. I've read of people who have died in similar circumstances and the first time I settled in, I thought that maybe this would be the end of road. I'm certain that I could have found shelter but there was a challenge there that I had to confront, to test my tolerance. I never slept in conditions where the wind chill approached zero - at least, not in a vehicle. Anyway, upon awaking I thanked the spirit of the universe for my continuance - no doubt so that it can screw with me later for its own amusement.On those cold times while I was waiting for the interior to warm to acceptable levels, I was also waiting for the ice to clear from the windshield - the inside of it. Remember those times in your adolescent when you were 'parking' with someone, trying to swallow each other's tongues and groping like a fiend, both of you at the mercy of raging hormones? Remember the fogging of the vehicle's glass form the CO2 in your exhalations? Yeah, it freezes. Anyway, BT and I have made it this far but each day I hope I can make it through the next next 24 hours with current resources intact. If BT fails at a level that I can't compensate for, that event would significantly alter my daily world. Without her, I would have to take whatever I could carry and head to a homeless shelter, That would mean loss of job and mobility and other opportunities. Hopefully, it won't come to that.There is something enriching to your life when you realize that you may not be around in the next 24 hours. Many people say 'see you later' or 'talk to you tomorrow' upon parting. I say the same things but I lack the certainty of fulfilling those words - every time, due to a myriad of factors, could be my last time in a particular situation. Maybe having that realization adds a 'freshness' or 'newness' to the experience, negating the possibility of a boring repetition. Maybe that is one of the things that I came to realize at a emotional level, beyond the rational, that certainty of continuation is an illusion, a facade that our ego employs as a pillar of a foundation that is structured in such a way that makes us believe we are indispensable.Maybe I stood too close to a fully functional bong in younger years, too.Next time,David
Hello,Continuing....The work environment has improved significantly over the past few months. I work part-time as a Librarian Page in the public library system. I know what you are thinking - Wow, David, you can work on your writing project at work because when I visit the library, all of you mostly sit around doing nothing with your thumb up it . You are wrong, Sparky. What you are thinking is mostly true about library personnel, sitting around looking pretty but my job function is doing the 'grunt' work, the physical stuff that involves sweating, especially during the summer months. It is physically demanding if it is done right and I leave work tired at the end of each shift. I wear a tank top underneath my collared pullover and that top is not dry at day's end. I am part of a four-person team that has been reduced to a three-person team due to budget constraints and other concerns but the three of us are achieving a greater level of output. I work with a great bunch of people who share a common work ethic and sense of humor - we have fun. Most of us have met off site to further indulge our fun-loving past times. Most of my co-workers are female and attractive with a sense of humor. And they often bring food to share. Perhaps they sense that I am less dangerous with a full belly. No, they do not know of my situation. Nearly all of us are familiar with the attributes of an ideal library environment - quietude, whispered conversations, the rustle of paper being manipulated, the soft clicking of a keyboard being used. Where I work, it ain't that. It is a fookin' zoo especially in the later hours of the day. The last shift, the one that I work, is the busiest of the day. I have done harder work but I have done easier work, too. And, of course, every paycheck is a fortune, netting nearly $800 every two weeks that fuels the global financial empire of David Jones.The increase of productivity that I alluded to earlier is due to a transfer of a Page to another branch, an individual who simply did not want to work, often times making more work for the rest of the team. The volume of his absenteeism was staggering and unacceptable. He lied about his co-workers, backstabbing at every opportunity, downplaying their contribution to team goals while grossly inflating his own. Of course, it helped his standing that the leadership thought that he walked on water and believed everything he said. It took over a year of myself and fellow co-workers voicing our concerns to the leadership and finally to the manager about the negative impact he had on our environment to finally effect a change. In my entire work experience, an individual that performed as poorly or had such a negative chemistry as he had would have been terminated within days. I was astounded at the inability of the leadership to resolve this situation. Management had to finally step in and effect the change.He was transferred to another branch. Since his departure, the environment has experienced higher levels of production, the atmosphere is much better with his absence. The tenseness of the atmosphere due to his presence is gone. Our work environment has blossomed. All of us were able to interact freely without the dread that he would invite himself to participate, always in an inappropriate manner.I hope you don't have anyone like this on your team. Or if you do, you have effective and responsible leadership to deal with it.It is these situations that I almost wish there was a duelling code in our society, to address issues that cannot be satisfactorily confronted and resolved any other way. In those circumstances, I would pull out one of my high dollar gloves (99 cent Walmart special) and slap him across the face with extreme authority and say, 'Sir, you have offended me, your family, your DNA inheritance and every cat in the neighborhood. Volleyball at dawn, Sir!' ...or some such stuff.Next time,David.
Hiya,To continue with the summer time...On one of the occasions that the DPD visited the pool, one of the officers - they always dispatched two of them which given the social-economic conditions of that environment is a smart move - beckoned me by first name for a private conversation. She asked about my current status, how are things going and how is work going. She also asked about my writing project. I responded that everything is well and progress is being made though not in the expeditious manner I originally envisioned. She replied with words of encouragement and I thanked her for her concern.Now, I didn't know who she was when the interaction began and I wondered how she had this information about me. Was she part of an international task force with the only goal of tracking me, to be positioned in the event that I go nuts? I did put it together when she turned and walked away. I, being a male, had just talked to an attractive women and did what every guy does with functioning hormones - I checked out her butt - and then I realized that she was the same officer from that night several months ago when I reported a burglary around 3 AM at the property that I sleep at. I know what you're thinking, David, didn't you recognize her from the previous encounter? You couldn't remember her face? You had to check out her butt for the recognition to click in, you moron? In my defense, it was dark that night, I was half-awake, I had several beverages that day...and I'm at a serious disadvantage because I carry the X chromosome.As I returned to the pool tables that the group commandeers while poolside, I felt that more people know of my situation than I thought - I mean than those in my environment. There are only a handful of people who can connect this blog to me. A few of the pool group know of my situation but don't know that I keep an online journal. The people at work do not know of my current situation or of this blog. There are times that I have the feeling of unknown attention - I think some would call that paranoia. I only hope they are wishing me well. I also hope that they are guardian angels, assisting in whatever way they can, and are not the lap dogs of Satan and his dark underlords.One of the reasons that I'm reluctant to share my current status with the majority of people that are in my current world is that I may have to contend with the stigma of being a person of no permanent residence. Human perception is biased, due to our socialization, experience and education, as well as molded by how information is presented to us by various media pipelines that have their own agenda. To a large extent, when the term 'homeless' is applied to an individual, human perception immediately initiates attributes that do not reflect the true circumstances of that individual's situation nor the character involved. I'd rather not have to expend resources to counter that perception or possible subsequent behavior that may arise because of that perception. I imagine that there are some of you thinking of why I don't go to a homeless shelter. You don't have the information that I have regarding that issue. As long as Black Thunder remains functional and I have a source of income, I won't be a participant in that environment. I think I'm doing better on my own...with, of course, an occasional couch and home-cooked meal. I'm not saying 'never' but it is an option of low probability at this time. There are regular security personnel at where I work and I got to know a couple of them that had worked downtown where a lot of homeless gather. From what I was told, all that stigma does apply to them and that is not a comfortable situation. Anyway, next time,David
Greetings, fellow humans,Happy New year and congratulations on making it this far. Don't take it for granted - a lotta life-forms didn't.I know I have been away for awhile but I assure you that I'm still fighting, still struggling from day to day, still keeping the hope and the dream alive, I have not been incarcerated and sharing a cell with a couple of guys who think that I'm cute. I have not been in any insane asylum, pumped full of drugs and drooling, talking to pink elephants. And, most importantly, I have not been abducted by aliens and probed in every bodily orifice repeatedly with extreme prejudice.As you recall in my last post I alluded to a situation that existed in my life and expressed a desire to share with you a successful conclusion to that set of circumstances. I had hoped to report to you a victory, one of a personal nature, and to make available the strategy and tactics I utilized in that quest regarding personal development,Well, I succeeded and failed but we will get to that in a few posts.First, I'd like to bring you up-to-date regarding the past few months and my current situation.It was a good summer. I've shared with you the two pools that are currently available to me - the party pool and the quiet pool with the former being the pool of choice on summer weekends and holidays. Every weekend, cookouts, cold beverages and water volleyball. I came out of retirement and played. The level of play was not as intense as I played in the past, a bit more subdued. However, there were times when a set was so well timed and beautiful that my inner competitive animal bypassed conscious controls and I unleashed warp speed spikes that were devastating, so powerful that the heavens trembled in fear. Thankfully, I had enough control to not cripple or kill my comrades nor deprive them of any body parts. At these times, I was reminded that it was just for fun after which I apologized profusely. Toward the end of the summer and only at night time, when the families retreated to the safety of their apartments, some of the female players would remove their tops. At the time, I could recall no penalty in the volleyball rules that forbade such an alteration in player uniform. They knew that I would not initiate any action that could result in any damage to the 'pillows of peace'...and, more than likely, they just wanted to be unfettered. The difficulty of focusing on a volley ball in those circumstances can prove daunting to a heterosexual male such as myself, well-versed in the ways of romance. On numerous occasions, several of the women would do the skinny-dipping thing - late night, of course, from innocent eyes. I believed I mentioned at those times that is good to be a man capable of appreciating femininity in a very basic form. Due to the level of our play, there were several times that a resident called the police because of the noise generated by a group of people having fun. The DPD would show up and politely request the noise be reduced, due to a resident complaint and we would comply. Thankfully, during those visits, which on several occasions numbered more than once during a day especially on a holiday weekend, there were no 'pillows of peace' on display.The group consisted of men and women of different education levels, sexual orientation, age and background. Of course, I was the oldest but much respected especially during volleyball play. And trusted, due to the fact that attached females would sit in my lap from time to time, even the women who were in a committed relationship with each other. The group dynamics were good. We still get together on weekends. There were a few nights that I slept on the couch of one of the group - always offered, never asked. Those sleepovers were always a welcome respite from the Texas heat. There were several times I declined and slept a few hours in BT. Toward the end of the summer, I awoke earlier than usual and drove BT around in an effort to cool down myself and the interior of the vehicle. I would drive to another shaded spot and get a couple of more hours of sleep.More later,David
