Homeless - 99

Greetings,

I've read that the Native Americans are up in arms about their image being used in sports, namely as team names. It seems that there is a faction that views such usage as an affront to the Native American culture.

Before I go off on a tirade, let me remind you that I'm half Cherokee, half Irish...and half Vulcan. But to be fair to the Natives, I've been exposed to several different environments providing me with a more cosmopolitan viewpoint. Add that experience to the fact that I'm somewhat educated, decently read and somewhat open-minded. Contrast that condition to the perceptual constraints of the Natives who have little experience of seeing beyond the framework in which they were indoctrinated to as children and still adhere to as adults. I'm not saying that that culture wasn't maneuvered into a position of disadvantage by the invading Europeans. Further, I'm not saying that the early Europeans to this continent could have survived without the help of the Natives.

In my opinion, every individual existing today within the United States owes their existence and national identity to the Natives. They helped the first Europeans survive those early years and aided them in subsequent wars. Regardless of creed, color or religion, all owe an unending debt of gratitude to the Natives for the birth of our nation. Read your history and you will...never mind, history is being rewritten and/or modified to the serve the purpose of...whomever.

Again, I'm not saying that the forces of imperialism and capitalism, as we are experiencing today in various forms, have the same orientations as they started out with - that of improving the human condition for all. I have to grant that capitalism has been altered into a type of elitist capitalism where only the rich prosper and the rest of us are told to be thankful that we have jobs.

GRRRRRRR....must...control..aggression...circuits....

But the time to alter our course is long past.

It seems that I've digressed again.

The point is that our society hasn't treated the Natives well. That is not surprising considering how our system has treated other indigenous populations. Read your history, compare current events to...never mind.

To me, naming a sports team, whether professional or not, after icons of the cultural heritage of our country is a compliment in some form or fashion. Maybe that labeling is at the surface level but at deeper levels in our social consciousness, that action conveys a reverence and respect that rarely is evaluated..

Geeez, I wrote that last statement without a bong hit.

For example, let's take the Denver Broncos. A bronco is a wild horse, free and unshackled by the constraints of civilization. A bronco is an unbridled spirit roaming the plains as it pleases. If the name were changed to be palatable to the overly sensitive, what would the name be? The Denver Ballerinas? The Denver Burps? The Denver Snowboarders? Ehhh, the image is exactly something to aspire to is it?

The Dallas Cowboys is another example. A cowboy is an icon in American culture, an individual who has a strong moral code encompassing family and environment. The cowboy is a free spirit who will offer aid without thought of recompense to any in dire straits. He is empathic to the life around him and sensitive to its flow.

Unlike the current owner of the Cowboys and management who have dragged a proud legacy into a cesspool of greed and self-gratification. They have forgotten that the Cowboys are our team, not an icon that Jerry can stroke himself over.

Sorry, I digressed again but that view is held by many in  the area.

Okay, let's see. Dallas Cauliflowers? Dallas Cantaloupes? Dallas Cissies? Nope, none work.

The Pittsburgh Pirates is the last example. A pirate is a romantic figure in world history. They were a useful element in some wars - patriots to some. Generally, they were fair and honorable individuals. Unlike those Somalian pricks that plague current cargo shipping. I don't understand why those cargo ships aren't allowed to defend themselves with more lethality. There should be a mini-gun installation in each quadrant of the  ship, positioned to support each other with over-lapping fields of fire. Each weapon installation should have a 20,000 round ammo tub and at least one of those fire stations be crewed by an Elmer Fudd type - 'Come get some of this shit, you dirty wabbits!!'.

Let's see...the Pittsburgh Piccadilly's? The Pittsburgh Pansies? The Pittsburgh Potbellies? Naw...

Moving on...

I realize that this blog started out with a focal point of me and the homeless lifestyle - trials, tribulations, the journey in attempting to recover. There are times that it reflected a social aspect. That may be due to my life conditions that enabled me to maintain a somewhat awareness of the global events. One of the aspects of being homeless, at least in my case, is not having intelligent people around me on a constant basis to discuss events. I think that this is where this blog helped. It gave me a medium to vent some of my thoughts and opinions.

I know - I talk to Black Thunder but she mostly agrees with me.

The next several posts of this blog will be extremely personal. The focus will be on me and my activities. Those posts will be automatically published beginning on 5/27/13 at 8 AM. Each post after that will be published in two-hour increments.

Till then...

Homeless - 98

Happy Tuesday,

Odds and ends...

I've read that Ben Affleck and other celebrities are devoting some of their time to draw attention to the problem of poverty by existing on 1.50 a day. Admirable in the sense of focusing on an aspect of the human condition that wastes the human potential but fruitless in adequately addressing the problem. I imagine that their effort is similar to applying a band-aid to the wound of a decapitated human. The problem of poverty is a multi-sided issue where many solutions are needed to implement a successful eradication of that social condition.

It is an extremely low probability, given the current institutional elements, that poverty and homelessness will be erased from our society or any others' in the foreseeable future. And consider this: when humanity has the technology to populate other planets, will the political, economic and religious factions existing today be propagated to those places? You bet your ass they will. Think of the impoverished areas on our planet. Now think of entire planets existing within those degraded conditions due to previously mentioned factions of society. That condition needs to be repaired before we step off into new horizons.

Take a look at the timeline of poverty. Well, basically, that condition has been with us since day one. To choose an example among many, Christ said, from what I remember, that there will always be be poor and poverty among us. In my younger days, I had thought that Christ had said that from the perspective of prophecy. After all, he, as well as others like him, were quite formidable in addressing the non-linear aspects of the human spirit. Now, with the perspective of age and, much reading and experience, I'm seeing his statement in a different light. My current thought is that Christ made that statement from his viewpoint of knowing how the power of darkness of the human ego exerts over individuals' behaviour regardless of the spectrum of the the human population - rich man, poor man, doctor, lawyer or Indian chief - everybody has to fight it. Or in these days - politicians, corporate management, religious leaders, certain library management pricks and any other sector that comes to mind.

I must digress briefly at this moment to explain my perception of the human ego. I have been asked questions that can be grouped into the category of 'What the fuck does that mean?'.

To a large extent, the human ego, regardless of the social context, is shaped and molded by the forces of the environment that an individual inhabits. Freedom of choice - yeah, keep believing that illusion and avert thine eyes.

For me, there is an aspect of the human ego that enabled humanity to survive and grow throughout the ages to spread across the planet. The power of good is quite formidable: compassion, empathy, caring, helping, appreciation of life and others, selflessness, humility, etc.

The dark side of the ego is just as formidable: envy, greed, intolerance, callousness, disregard of the welfare of fellow humans now and future generations, domination through economic, political and religious structures, etc. The list is quite long and varied.

It seems to me that some people recognize that the true conflict exists within themselves and strive to eradicate the darker side of ego that chains us all. Unfortunately, given the current state of global affairs, there ain't enough of us around and in positions of authority.

Moving on...

A few nights ago, I did something I've never done before. No, not that, the other thing. I was younger and in love with two women who were adept at photography and very flexible...never mind. I awoke at 3:51 AM. At least, that is what BT's clock displayed. Both of my feet were  in an inordinate amount of distress. Yeah, the first time that happened. Usually, its one foot or the other. I tried the meditation thing that had been somewhat successful in the past but not this time. No, I'm not a Jedi yet; haven't learned to let go.

So I ate a small amount of nuts and raisins, downed several gulps of water, took a large shot of whisky, took 500mg of aspirin, downed some more water, ingested another small amount of nuts and took another shot of whiskey followed by several gulps of water. Let me tell you that the bite of whiskey early in the morning is quite jolting. At 4:21 AM the discomfort in my feet was gone. And yes, I was buzzed with no one around to BS with except Black Thunder. Rest assured, I didn't tell her anything that she didn't already know.

Yeah, seems that the medical condition is not improving

I'm used to employing joy juice as a party favor, not as a medicinal expedient In the old days, whiskey and its ilk were used in surgery as a numbing agent. That rotgut had to be especially ruinous, without ice and coke. Maybe that is why a lot of authors didn't reach old age. However, thanks to modern brewing technology, authors are living longer and producing more.  Or maybe its because you can detect the sweet, musky aroma of creativity that came from the bong sitting beside their whiskey.

There is a book that would do you good to read. Negatory, Heathcliff, not one of mine. This one was written by Steve Alten, titled The Shell Game. It is fiction but the book has a bibliography that serves as a solid foundation to the story line. It's about big oil, the 9/11 event, the Bush administration, political corruption and...well, a lot more. Well worth your time.

Next time...

Homeless - 97

Fellow humans,

Have you felt a sinking feeling in your gut over the years due to personal finances? Have you noticed that the legal tender that you desperately amass is not as big a pile as it used to be? Have you noticed that the big raises that you enjoyed in the past are a remote dusty memory? Fear not, you are not alone in your musings. As grandma would say, things ain't what they used to be.

Some people have come to the conclusion that capitalism is dead. Well, the idea, spirit and practice of pure capitalism has been vacant in the U.S. since the '60's. I think that during that era it was discovered how easily the political system could be manipulated to alter the corporate landscape to maximize corporate profits at any cost and damn the repercussions. The idea has mutated into a reflection of the elite that ignore the rules of the social contract so that they may benefit at the expense of others. And yes, a pox upon them, too, for their uncaring greed.

The basic tenet that I remember form my collegiate economic courses was that the major foundation of a capitalistic system was that everyone prospered in some way. The main concept that I remember was voiced by one of those instructors; where she got it from, I have no idea but the ring of truth in it still stands. She told the class that the healthy life of a capitalistic system is dependent on the free flow of currency at all levels. She furthered the example to the flow of blood in the human body; if circulation is restricted or pooled, the entire organism suffered.

With clogged arteries in my legs, her point has more of an impact on me these days.

I had the rumbling of this idea for several months, that something was out of balance in the economic health of the U.S. population. The perspective of several decades of life yields a point of view, provided that an individual remembers and occasionally lifts their head out of the daily muck and looks around, seeing the increasing imperfections of our systems - political, economic, religious - all three elements of population control.

But back to our capitalistic system, one that seems to spreading its tentacles across the planet. Throughout my years I have heard on more than one occasion of how labor unions have increased the average cost of living by their 'exiorbrant demands on corporations. From what I have read, labor unions comprise a small part in our economy. Again, in my opinion, they held corporate excesses in check, providing more of the 'life currency' to be shared. These days, labor unions are an endangered species, less than ten percent of  the influence on our economy. Corporate upper management and major stockholders are reaping the benefits in terms of increased capital at the expense of the health of our economy. More of that 'life currency'  is flowing into their coffers while the rest of the population suffers, trying to get by on less, by increased budgeting, and maintain their standard of living despite declining labor costs. Again, the health of the economic organism comes to light.

Is the market economy the best alternative that benefits the country and the citizens? How will this condition impact global societies? How will governments adjust their stance regarding national budgets? What effect will this economic stance affect the coming generations that are not of the elite? What impact will these conditions have on the infrastructure and institutions of the U.S.? The planet? Is public perception the best execution of an capitalist democratic society where perceptions are shaped by a controlled media? Is it a more subtle form of tyranny, a more palatable form of injustice?

I don't know but it ain't looking good for generations to come.

Unless there is a alien mothership arriving to deliver us from the dark aide.

I do know that the current elite orientation reeks of greed and uncaring aspect for future generations every where.

I have heard the adage 'the rich keep getting richer and everyone else gets poorer' many times throughout the years. The times I have heard that, I had thought that that statement was made by idiots who were unaware of the opportunities that were present and/or were to lazy to pursue them or that they were evil socialists. Not any more - they were right.

I came across a news article that summed the situation up nicely -  'Wages Are Losing the Battle' by Steven Greenhouse. Helanie Olen is another journalist that has written on the subject. Steven's article is constructed with pretty graphs (I'm a picture type of guy) and numbers that support the feelings that I, and probably many of you, have had regarding the subject but were unable to quantify. Helanie's article is more focused on the finance industry; she has a book about to be published on that sector and it ain't exactly complimentary.

Ah well, now we know why our green pile is getting smaller while we are being fed from the other pile and being told that everything is fine.

Next time...

Homeless - 96

Fellow humans,

Odds and ends...

The weather in the Dallas area is a bit different from the last ten of seasons that I remember. Today is 4/20 and it is a bit chilly. I recall times in previous seasons of it being warmer at this time, enough to partake of pool activities like swimming and other things that people do in the water. Not this season - still too cold. I've still the winter thongs utilized with the summer thongs just waiting to burst out onto the scene. The people in Montana are probably thinking what wimps we Texans are, and already thong-clad. Maybe the season difference is due to the climate change that our politicians said in the recent past was a non-issue. The Artic ice does seem to be diminishing and opening up that area  for shorter commercial passages...and resource extraction. Could that be the reason for multiple military presences in the Artic Circle? Even Nova Scotia has a battle fleet cruising those waters. Seriously, I've read where the Inuits of Greenland are positioning themselves to be a major player in that effort. Perhaps they remember what the Europeans did to the Native Americans years ago when the white man spoke with a forked tongue. That may not happen this time around. Maybe their environment will be better taken care of.

You can't live within an environment and not affect it; just ask the next beaver you meet at a bar or church.

If you have a Carl's Burger place in your neck of the woods - beware. I got a couple of coupons out of the paper and tried their sausage biscuits. They were decent. One night I tried their 1.49 burger that came with no frills. I had lettuce, tomato and mustard added. I was told that it would be an additional .39. It was Friday night and I felt like living it up Wang Chung style and said sure. As it turned out, the anemic slice of tomato was .39 and the small lettuce leaf was .39; yes, a substantial increase. They didn't charge me for the mustard though. I know, I was lucky.

A better deal can be had at Wendy's. Order their double stack for 1.99 and they'll put everything on it for free; plus the burger is of better quality.

The Boston marathon attack was...I don't know the words to express it. Two cowardly, pond scum sucking, worthless, idiotic, dumbassine, stupid, vermin infested, foul smelling, spineless, ball-less, overly flatulent,  demonic minions of the dark lord, toe scum sucking, (wait, not finished yet) shit eating pussies, low down, lying, cheating, egg sucking, honorless, godless heathens, misguided, plague infested, slimy, no good for nuthin', (pant, pant) yellow-bellied, chicken-thieving, low-life assholes killed some and maimed many of the race's participants. From what I've read, there was no political or religious reason behind the attack, no social statement to make. Even if there were, still ain't no excuse, as Grandma would say.

One of the things that I don't understand about such attacks is that they are aimed at the unsuspecting innocents. Why don't the terrorists go after the power and/or the people responsible for institutions? Why don't they mount offensive combat operations against the politicians or hardened targets like military bases or law enforcement elements? Instead, they go after the easy targets. Those cowardly...never mind - see above.

I feel for those race participants that lost a leg from those explosions. Maybe its just me but I see those people as those who love to run. Now some of them can't do that anymore, stripped of a major pastime that they enjoyed immensely. Not only were they physically injured but there are psychological issues at stake that will be years in duration.

You have to hand it to the Boston PD. They shut the area down - no ins, no outs, everybody stay inside. And then they ran those two worthless shits to ground.

I really think we need to institute public executions for assholes like these. Make it on a Friday night, sell tickets and air it on cable. The methods of execution are quite numerous and can be lengthy and quite entertaining. Imagine the perp being chased within an enclosed area by a horde of pissed-off Doxies. Being small in stature, they would have to start at the ankles and gnaw the perp's legs down until they were able to get to the vital entrails.

The buildup won't be of Super Bowl caliber but I think the ratings would be there.

Next time...

Homeless - 95

Happy Easter,

Good luck to you all on the Easter egg hunt. Back in the day, I always hunted them critters with a pump-action .12 gauge, with plenty of reloads. They are quick and agile, so you have to get close and usually employ a round or two. There were times I got my limit. When I didn't, it was due to those who hunted them by choppers armed with twin mini-guns with a 8,000 round capacity. Like grandma said, that just ain't sportin'.

You might as well hear it from me rather than on a CNN breaking news segment: I'm a feminist.

Hang on there a minute, Poboy, put down your PBR Lite and prepare to be educated from your ignorant ways. One of the courses that I took last semester was one of analyzing popular culture, specifically media.  That course examined the role of media in all of its varied forms - TV, movies, text, video gaming, social media, online persona via Facebook, etc. The course also examined the different perspectives, filters or paradigms that are employed to view the phenomena of the world within a social context. Those perspectives included Marxist, narrative, rational, feminist as well as several others.

I have always had a problem with categorizing people and social classes. When either is delegated to an arena of defined boundaries that are based on cultural, political, religious and/ or racial perceptions that are ego-driven, these viewpoints are constraining. They limit the perceptions of those applying those labels and using them, and it limits those who the labels are being applied to. The author of the collegiate text had somewhat different definitions for some of those labels. I forgot her name; my usually steel-trap memory has lost a few teeth. The definition of a feminist that I had in my mind was that of a widely-accepted perspective, that of women being under-utilized and lacking in equal status to men. I know what you are thinking; I thought the same thing when I was an ignorant and uneducated Jedi apprentice - that feminists were a group of women that met on a regular basis at a bar, trashed-talked we men folk (not that we are undeserving of it on a collective basis), toasted their drinks with 'POWER TO THE VAGINA'. Being a hetero male, I don't have any problems with that. I do have fond memories of...never mind.

This author's definition is that feminists are for everybody - equal rights, business opportunities, education, housing, whatever. It seems that they don't care if you are an Amazonian pygmy fresh out of the jungle. Everyone should be treated fairly without bias or special consideration. You don't see that attribute much these days. If you are part of an elite group in business, you will have no problem finding a job. If you belong to a certain political faction, you may have a safe haven from which to obtain special favors. If you belong to a socially recognized religion, the brethren will take you in.

And it shouldn't be like that. The problem that I have with special interest groups is that they elbow everybody else out of the way and put their group first in line, for promotion or at least try to. It's almost as if they're saying that their viewpoint is the most important.

Again, the feminist perspective doesn't care; only that you are living being regardless of other socially defined factors. From a purely resource management perspective, I have had the opinion for many years that the human female component in all societies are grossly under-utilized. It seems that the male perspective of women delegates them to a secondary role. Yet, there are numerous examples in history that point out the significant contributions made by women to humanity at large in any arena that you can name.

The negative power of prejudice is astounding.

Another of that author's definition was that of a Marxist paradigm. From what I remember of reading about Marx's work (not of the Marx brothers, the other one), was that all forms of governments are evolving to a state of pure communism, an idealistic state of society that advocates equality for all in terms of resources, social standing, opportunities, etc. Don't worry, Putin, that ain't happening as long as the politicians who are in control are at the mercy of the dark side of their human ego. It seemed that the author zeroed in on aspect of Marx's work that I missed the first time around - that those who are in control deserve to be in control. I don't agree with that. Take the current situation in our political system; there are some  in control that lack the ethical substances to properly execute their duties. And maybe the actual skill to accomplish optimal end results of their official responsibilities.

Moving on...

Due to my economic situation, I have been unable to indulge in a favorite pastime - movies. There a lot of good ones out there. Due to my failing eyesight, cost and lack of a DVD player in BT, that was a downside that I had to accept. However, a day when I was sitting at a computer station in the branch library that I frequent, I noticed an input for a DVD. I picked one for a test and watched it with no problems. Oh yes, the light bulb lit - I found an alternative, one that has been there all along. Though I can't light up a smoke, I can watch a recently released movie at the library that has been channeled to a DVD. I plug in some ear phones and enjoy. I limit myself to two a week. And maybe an installment of a couple of TV series that are currently on. No, not Glee.

As I said, I never claimed to be the brightest light-saber in the shed.

I have gained a few pounds back since I got over the flu; back up to 188. Clothes still hang off me more so than usual.

I executed one of my duties as a citizen this week and filed a tax return, coming clean with the government about my vast financial empire. The good news is that I am due a return of $166. The bad news is that I won't see a penny due to my outstanding balance of taxes owed to the IRS. A pox upon them. May their genitals wither and drop off.

Next time...

Homeless - 94

Continuing...

Now, let's talk about the medications. I take them in the morning and evening at meal times. They make me feel groggy, sleepy and/or dizzy when standing, devoid of energy and ambition that I used to feel in executing my daily activities. I really don't want to sleep walk through life but these drugs make it pretty damn easy. Did I have mention that I have things to do?  I'm compelled to take a power nap in the late mornings and mid-evenings. Maybe I could do this in another lifestyle but in my current one, not so much. Taking a bunch of pills to stay alive seems unpalatable to me especially when they degrade my physicality.

Growing old was not supposed to be like this, at least not to my younger, naive perception. I can take the decreased physicality, not being able to out run, out fight and out fuck any mammal on the planet but having to take drugs to stay alive wasn't anticipated. That attribute alone degrades the quality of life for me. I know what you're thinking. Taking drugs to stay alive should be a no-brainer. We're trained and educated to value life and to prolong it at nearly any cost. The fear of death is ingrained within us but is a life plagued by sickness and decreased physicality worth the trouble?

Of course, the pharmaceuticals and insurance industry are dry stroking themselves all over the place with the legalized cash cow that they have in place. Their business models are based on treating the disease, not curing it. I fail to see the difference between the legal and illegal drug pushers.

Wait, I got it! One is legal because it consistently makes 'donations' to politicians to enact laws to ensure their continuing profitability of said industries that manipulate our existing capitalistic system for their benefit. I don't know what term to apply our economic system but it ain't capitalism. We'll get to that in a later post.

And there is the other thing about getting old - vision. I swear, when we reach a certain age. does our DNA computer throw the 'fuck it' switch, preparing for a mortality flush? Anyway, I didn't need glasses until '08. The optometrist said that I had developing cataracts. It seems that the UV technology has gotten better over the years but I spent a lot of time outdoors when that tech wasn't as good as it is today.

These days I very rarely venture out of my section; well, only rarely but with a recon during daylight hours if I need to be at a place at a certain time. Images are a bit fuzzy at about forty meters and beyond. Hell, a drunken pygmy could sneak up on me. When BT is traveling at warp, my interpretation and decision time is limited or non-existent and nobody's reflexes are that good to make adjustments. The optometrist said that my condition can easily be cured by laser surgery. That means, according to her, that an optometrist who is skilled in the finer aspects of employing lasers, can fine tune those puppies to burn that evil from my eyes and restore my full eyesight. I'm assuming that said optometrist will adjust the laser from 'vaporize bulldozer' to 'fix eyeballs'. And the procedure only costs eight thousand dollars.

So again, if any of you know of an optometrist in the Dallas area who is adept in this kind of surgery and willing to do pro bono work, let me know.

Lastly, there is the diet thingy. Since my current lifestyle became active, I don't have access to food storage and preparation. I'm sure that the detrimental effects of having the fast food industry supply your main source of meals has been remarked upon a time or two. When you have limited means, there aren't that many healthy alternatives. Also, from time to time, a free meal is offered at those establishments via coupons. My home-cooked meals are few and far in between. These days, I eat a couple of decent meals a week at Norma's Cafe - good stuff. Three or four times a week, I eat a two dollar salad from a Kroger's salad bar. Beyond the nuts and dried fruit that I keep in BT, it is fast food (high-fat, high- cholesterol, high-death quotient) that supplies the remainder of my diet; always kids' meals though. As it is, perhaps too much, given my current medical condition. During cold weather, those visits increase. On cold mornings I visit a Brahms for a biscuit and something, plus they have the morning paper.

At the beginning of this lifestyle, I knew that working out was a high priority in maintaining health. I had thought that exercise would counter balance my genetic heritage which is a poor one at best. On the maternal side, there was cancer, circulatory problems, heart attacks and Alzheimer's. On my father's side, well, I only have one example - him. I met him a couple of times in my life, the last time being in the early '80's during my first college tour. At that time, he had had three bypasses, babbled like an idiot and had a huge belly - ain't no telling the last time he saw his dick without the aid of a mirror. That experience disgusted and scared me. I wondered at that time if my genetics would make me turn out that way. So far, I can look down and still see the floor. However, forget about long walks in the woods. I'm fortunate to be able to walk down two or three grocery aisles without my legs cramping up.

Well, life goes on for now, a heartbeat and a breath at a time.

Next time...

Homeless - 93

Greetings,

The year of 2013 didn't begin as well as most other years in my life; not that those times were legendary by any measure.

There were times in the final quarter of '12 that my toes would ache, especially my left big toe. I know that it sounds wimpy but consider the usage that those appendages endure and you may be able to see their value. During those times the pain would be enough to keep me from sleeping or rouse me from sleep. Walking to class on a spacious campus without valet parking became an ordeal. My calves would cramp up and I would have to sit until they subsided. I had no problems during a hard workout but a few minutes afterward, I couldn't put any pressure on my left foot without whimpering  like the lightweight I am. After a few minutes the pain would go away.

I know what you're thinking but I don't have medical insurance. I thought, and hoped, that the condition was temporary. I think that is called denial. And that toe was turning all sorts of unpleasant colors.

The first week in January, the discomfort escalated enough that I thought to hell with it and went to an ER.. To make a short story even shorter (?), I have high blood pressure, extremely so. That condition initiated a response on their part that consisted of throwing two tiny pills down my throat. Then they withdrew blood for lab analysis. Then a sonogram (?) tech came in to do a probe on my left leg. Previously, the ER nurse tried to get me to shed clothes and put on a hospital gown - you know, one of those flimsy garments with easy access to your butt. I told her that that ain't happening and removed the outer layers of what I was wearing until I was down to tank top and shorts. Did I mention the cold weather? Anyway, I drifted off during the hour-long sonogram procedure three times and apologized. The tech replied it was common due to the BP medication I was given.

The ER doctor returned later with the analysis - clogged arteries in my legs were the cause of lower leg cramps and the pain in my toes. He said that this event was a wake-up call. The obstruction of blood flow that was causing the pain could have easily been an event in my heart or brain. He gave me prescriptions for pain, high BP and cholesterol-lowering medications. Thanks to Wallmart, I can get them cheaply. He also urged the care of a primary care doctor. He said that the BP has to come down and that I need the attention of a vascular surgeon in the near future. But before that visit, I need a couple of tests performed to determine the degree of blockage in my circulatory system before the vascular surgeon can address my issues. I was given a list of low-cost clinics for continuing care. After much phone work, I found one and scheduled an appointment for the following week.

After the clinic doctor reviewed my medical data, she prescribed more of the same meds sans painkillers; seems that the clinic doesn't deal in that med. She also urged reduced physical activity; no working out but stretching out is okay. Whoopee-do but I employed her advice and still do but I cheat a little by doing low reps and lower weights. It ain't the same as a good workout.

Okay, now I have a death sentence hanging over my head. Intellectually, we all know that being born entails that somewhere down our path on this planet, we die. On an emotional level, it is an entirely different story. All the activities that person performs during the course of a day acquires an enhanced degree of immediacy and value - nothing is taken for granted.

The thing I'm wondering is the appearance of this condition. I broke a little finger playing water volleyball in '04 or '05. I know; that sounds kind of wimpy, too. That injury necessitated surgery. Since I hadn't seen a doctor in years, the surgeon wanted some tests done - cardiac stress test (including sonogram of my young supple heart in action - I saw the movie) and blood analysis. Everything came back green. Did my current condition develop since moving into BT in '07?

So if any of you know of a vascular surgeon in the Dallas area who is willing to prolong my life on a pro bono basis, please let me know. After all, there are things I want to accomplish before I leave the planet.

And as if the gods, being the fickle bitches that they are, didn't pile enough on my plate, I contracted the flu a couple of days after the ER visit.

In my experience, you're walking along minding your own business and something at the visceral level throws a switch and you know you're coming down with some evil. Oh no, not this time for me. It was a full court press. I suddenly started shivering, sinuses knotted up and a fever came upon my young hide for a few moments and then subsided. The gods were letting me know that my butt was theirs and the next twelve days were a miserable time, bundled up in BT. Oddly enough, my illness coincided.with the coldest night temperatures for the Dallas area. Knowing the contagious aspect of this evil, I shunned humans; no visiting the rec center for scrubbing up, no visiting the library. I also had no interest in eating. I lost weight. Normally, I'm around 195 - 200 pounds. During that time, my weight dropped to 180.

I pulled through that evil to a more joyous time - that of feeling well.

Continuing in next post...

Homeless - 92

Happy Friday.

The weekend is here. I imagine there will be much frolicking, dancing, etc. So everybody Wang Chung tonight.

Though the word 'homeless' figures significantly in this blog in the sense that it applies to me, that term doesn't really apply to me in the strictest context. There is a difference in definitions that I suppose depends on the viewpoint. I do live under a much smaller roof these days from what I'm used to in the past; don't have a balcony to grill on. Black Thunder's accommodations are somewhat limited when compared to a standard domicile - no shower, no media, no cooking surfaces. She does have a fridge of limited capacity; a low-capacity cooler in the bed of the truck for keeping food items cool for several hours. I fill it up with ice on those days. There is the limited closet space. All my clothing is either behind the seats or in an overnight bag that occupies the floor on the passenger side. Trust me, that payload gets lighter in the warmer months. My pantry is a small bag that is tucked near the driver's side seat. It contains odds and ends - nuts, dried fruit, can opener, supplements, medicines, paper towels, cigarettes, reloads, etc.

By one definition of the word, I am homeless in the sense of not having a permanent address. I do have places to work out and scrub up, launder, bathrooms at my disposal and pools that I can visit during the summer. It's just that they are not all in one place.

I am more fortunate that others in similar circumstances - those of limited economic means. With all that in mind, I do have time to pursue my goals. And, from time to time, lift my head up from personal concerns and notice what is happening around me in our national and global environment. Hence, some of my previous posts. It ain't all about me. It's all about us as some of my posts indicated.

When I was writing my last post, I wrote about the original thirteen colonies. I wondered if there were twelve originally that started out and thirteenth was formed? Was somebody not getting along and playing nice? Then the number twelve lingered in  my mind and then the floodgates opened, wondering about the significance of the number twelve.

There are twelve inches in a foot. There are twelve zodiac signs and twelve months in a year. Our twenty-four day is frequently divided into two twelve-hour segments. There are twelve days of Christmas. Wait a minute. Why not thirty days of Christmas? That would certainly extend the 'making merry' thingy. That is probably due to some religious structure. Anyway, there are twelve eggs in a dozen but a dozen of anything is twelve. There are twelve members in a jury. Is there that many in a firing squad? There were twelve tribes of Israel. Christ had twelve apostles. At least, that's what we were told. I'm sure there are a lot more occurrences of this number; these examples are off the top of my head.

Why is the number twelve represented so strongly in human history?

I googled the number. In numerology, the number twelve signifies perfection and completion.  Looking around, I don't see those attributes in action. Well, I see something along those lines in nature and in the sky. Maybe they're only active in Nova Scotia...

Then another number plunked itself down in my thoughts - four. There are four quarts in a gallon, four quarters in a dollar and many sports have four time periods in the duration of a game. A batter can get four balls and he is on base. Forget cricket; that game can go on for days. Can you imagine the amount of liquor you'd have to bring to that event? There are four seasons to the year, four quarters in a year and typically four weeks in a month. A four-leaf clover is supposed to bring good luck. Again, I'm sure there are other occurrences of the number four in human societies.

In numerology, the number four signifies wholeness.

Does any special significance apply to these numbers besides keeping track of quantity and the act of value assessment? Do numbers carry a cosmic meaning that is non-linear and outside human cognition? Maybe ancient civilizations knew those meanings but they're extinct. 

Anyway, moving on...

And last but not least, raise a toast of your favorite libation and wish Black Thunder happy birthday.  I bought her on the last day of February in '96. That would put her age at...let's see, carry the two, add 3.14, multiply by .1, subtract the current hour of the day, subtract 3.14...yep, she is seventeen years old, almost legal enough to dance at strip clubs. She has been my transport ever since. Since May '07, she has also been my transport and shelter. For a vehicle of her age, one would think she'd be a decrepit wreck, struggling to move along a freeway and belching a cloud  of blue-gray smoke that choked my fellow drivers. Also, one would expect her exterior to be a mobile eye sore, an abomination to all things good and pure.

That's a negatory, Heathcliff. Thanks to a couple of Meguiar's products: namely their Ultimate Quik Detailer and Endurance Tire Treatment. The former you spray on and wipe off, leaving the vehicle gleaming. The latter you spray on and leave alone for 15 minutes. It leaves the tires shiny, based on my experience, for over two weeks. Even after the shine fades, the tires remain a dull black. Other tire treatments I have tried had the tires shiny for a couple of days and then a distasteful and unappealing discoloration would set in. Each product costs about twelve bucks (there's that number again). I use them once a month and there are about four applications in each. We're talking four months product availability (there's that number again!).

Thanks to a few upward spikes in my finances, always too few, she remains a piece of eye candy. There have been many times I've been approached by guys, and two women, who wanted to buy her. Many of the bids were ridiculously low but the two highest ones came from the women. All were turned down. Even if I was offered several million for the ownership of BT, I would still need time to think about the offer. The power of gold does that to humans.

I know I would decline that offer regardless of what could be accomplished with that money. There is an emotional aspect between BT and me. There is something about the man/machine interface that is yet to be understood. It's similar to the man/animal interface. That type of understanding can only be glimpsed if you have a pet/companion, maybe watch nature shows, visit the zoo, feed crackers to birds and/or squirrels.

The man/machine interface we'll get to in another post.

The next post I'll get my head out of the clouds and write about something more mundane - me.

Next time...

Homeless - 91

Good morning,

To continue from last post. Hopefully, the picture that was painted did not cause much lamenting.

In the election year of '08, an historic first occurred. A non-white president was elected to the office of the U.S. presidency - Barack Obama. Certainly he has some African heritage in his lineage but I don't see him as black. I have seen some Native Americans and Hispanics who are as dark, if not more so than he appears. And, of course, let's not forget certain Amazonian pygmies, bless their dusky little hides. U.S. citizens were ready for a change in the D.C. way of doing things and were tired of the political bullshit that we read about in the papers and hear on the news channels. An example is what's currently happening - both parties can't agree on budget issues and that impasse initiated an automatic reductions option where the average citizen  is the casualty. The parties do not appear to have the American citizens at heart; they are fighting for political dominance. The welfare of the citizens is a secondary issue, one that will be addressed later. Maybe if they were elected things would be different.

Wait! They were elected!

In '08, I entertained a few moments of hope that Obama would correct the political course that American politics have been navigating over the last few decades. But a little voice in the back of my mind whispered: Ain't happening. The structure of our political and corporate systems are too complex, too convoluted and too entrenched in our society, and under the control of a select few, to be altered by one individual. Those systems favor the rich and powerful. The general population is only a cash cow to them and they will keep those udders to themselves.

But as it turns out, it is business as usual through no fault of Obama. He is having to deal with the constraints of The System and the mindsets of both parties. If I was president and there was a dueling code, several members of each party would have been challenged; to hand-to-hand combat, a beer drinking contest or a cooking contest or some such competition to determine the issue. There would be some satisfaction in challenging them to a duel; walk up to them and pull out my white glove, backhand them across the face with it and say You, Sir, are a complete cad! Pick a second and meet me on the White House lawn at sunrise! And do not make me come get you! Of course, I would probably have a small brick stuffed in my glove.  

The main point of all this rambling - racism and discrimination at an unprecedented level. I grant you that I'm not the brightest light-saber in the tool shed when it comes to the political arena. In my opinion, that arena  is a great game played with loaded dice and you have to play by the rules of the House. Given my current economic status, I'm operating, at least in the social context, on a tier that is not as informed on issues that require thoughtful analysis beyond the layers of appearance. The general consensus of the minority sector within those environments I was in was best summed up what I overheard at a pool during the summer of '09 between a group of minorities less  than ten meters from my position - "things are goin' be different now that we've got one of our own in there". I was sitting at a table with two women, both degreed professionals, that overheard the same comment. I glanced their way and locked eyes with both of them. Ah yes, they heard.

We talked later in their apartment and came to the same conclusion - that comment was as racist as any of us has ever heard. I've read that when an individual makes a decision based solely on skin color, that is racism and discrimination. And that is how Obama got elected to president; based on the support of minorities who were not thinking rationally.

During Obama's first term, things were different but not as anticipated by the minorities who had thought that their ship had arrived. At best, things stayed the same regarding our foreign policy, economic health of the majority of the U.S. population and U.S. influence in the global arena, to name a few.

I think the bright spot in the foreign policy sector was Hillary Clinton. I remember reading of her comment to the Pakistani government that is was inconceivable to her that they were unaware of terrorist activity within their borders. That was calling them on their bullshit. I wished she was younger and running for president; that would be the time I would cast my first vote.

During Obama's first term, things got worse. The economy continued to choke and gag, the job sector was dismal. But hey, the rich got richer and the D.C. players increased their stranglehold.

But, again, here's the thing. I remember reading in the USA TODAY in the last quarter of '12 of the polls that they had conducted concerning Obama's approval rating. The statistic that jumped out and grabbed me by my testicles was that of the African-Americans polled, 99% thought he was doing a good job. 99%!?! That graph didn't indicate any demographic data of the sample polled but 99?!? Considering the economic status of our nation, the nature of our political system and the U.S. standing in global affairs, 99% of them thought he was doing a good job. When was the the last time a president had that level of approval rating from any segment of the population? That rating tells me that some people aren't keeping abreast of the times and are using another metric to judge his performance, one that was not based on critical thinking.

In '12, Obama was re-elected again thanks to the support of the minorities. I don't think that any rational decision-making process was employed by the majority of voters. I know that on a regular basis, there were articles in the paper or heard on the news that things were getting better. Numbers and graphs were thrown at us. When I was in the IT field, I quickly learned how the numbers can be massaged to present a picture that is biased and untrue. I have no doubt that that practice is employed within the field of politics.

It seems that there is a way to ensure that a candidate is not elected into any political office based on appearances.

The method that I'm suggesting renders the 'one citizen, one vote' credo inoperable. Anyone who wants to vote must prove their ability to make rational political decisions in the voting process. There would be tests. I know what you're thinking - that's discrimination. Yeah, well, it is discriminatory but so are the tests you take to prove your worthiness to enter college, for those of us that went. In the IT field, if you want to participate in a certain discipline of that arena, you have to take tests and pass them to be certified as technician that can make good choices. Want to play professional sports? Guess what? There are tests and trials at that gateway, too.

But that ain't going to happen. Remember the udder comment that I wrote of earlier? The System is working perfectly for those and by those who modify it for their own purposes. After all, we can't allow the current population controls that are in place and active to be discarded by smart people and still carry on business as usual.

As I wrote earlier, the ideal democracy is an illusion. Our version of it seems to yield easily to manipulation and selfish interests, and is easily gamed if the last election is any indication. Maybe we on a slope sliding down to even worse national circumstances.

Don't read this like I'm advocating anarchy. A democratic society must have a electoral process in place to honestly guide the citizens in their voting selections but not one to control and manipulate the population as our system has seemed to have evolved into - an instrument of population control.


Next time...

Homeless - 90

Good day,

Democracy is dead. I think that the killing blow was when a certain intelligence agency of the United States assassinated J.F.K in the'60's. I am mortally afraid to name that organization because I don't want my obit to read that I tripped over a sidewalk crack and while falling down committed suicide by shooting myself thirty-three times with hand weapons of four different calibers, stabbing myself thirteen times with blades of three different lengths and choking myself, all in the space it took for a human body to fall because of a misstep.

Hey, that shit happens.

Walk with me on this. I need to paint a picture before arriving at the main point next post. Sadly, it is a landscape that many of us know all to well. If you've been alive a few decades, you can look back and see how we got to this point in our political system.

Within a capitalistic system, at least the version the U.S. currently employs, democracy is an illusion. It is a structure that allows the common citizen to believe that they have a say (vote) in how the U.S. is governed. If the choices of candidates are managed, and they are, is there such a thing as freedom of choice? At best, we only get two serious contenders in a presidential election. To those out there who adamantly believe our system is the greatest in the world, you are in a world of denial. Regardless of an individual's selection, it seems that the votes are channeled by The System into controlled and dictated paths.

Democracy, as envisioned by the founders of the thirteen colonies, from what I've read, was that each citizen made a rational choice of among several candidates and select the best one. I imagine that those people, fleeing from Europe's oppressive environments and funded by Jewish money, were enthusiastic over the prospect of having a say (vote) in their destiny while on this planet. Of course, back then there were fewer citizens, fewer candidates and, most importantly, the election and governing process was not as convoluted as today's structure. Imagine the eagerness of those individuals to establish an environment free of tyranny in all of its' many forms.

Of course, there were no corporations at that time to affect the election process. Nor was there a military/industrial complex that sucked the life-blood of the American taxpayers and were not held accountable due to 'black budgets'.

Democracy at that time entailed that citizens make informed and rational choices in their voting selections. For that to happen, a population who are informed and intelligent to make the best choices of candidates are needed. I don't think we have that these days, at least not in significant numbers. Does voter apathy ring a bell?

From what I've read, many of the politicians who have left that arena say that D.C. is broken - fucked up beyond all repair (FUBAR). They should be saluted for speaking out on an issue that has an appreciable presence in the American psyche. Why stay in a fight when you know you can't win? Why stay in a fight when The System keeps those with money and/or power in control?

I don't vote because I lack the time and resources to make an informed choice. To do that, I would have to research each candidate's background and political performance, evaluate the needs of my country in all its many flavors, study the global environment, focus an eye on competing nations and their economic and political aspirations as it relates to the U.S. foreign policy. That analysis can not be accomplished in a few hours. It seems it would be a continuous affair that would span decades and that I would have to become a continuing student of politics. It probably could be done if working for legal tender wasn't such a necessity.

Is it any wonder why there is voter apathy? And those who vote for a candidate based solely on their appearance is a massive abuse of the voting privilege. For anyone to enter a voting booth and select a candidate based solely on race or religion is paramount to racism and discrimination.

The voting process was skewered in '08 and '12 from a source that seemed should have known better given the history of that segment of the U.S. population.

Continuing in next post...

Homeless - 89

Sup, home skillets,

Continuing from last post...

I took a script writing class in '12. That is a way different animal from the way I write. There is a different pace and structure. If you've noticed, just before a commercial break regardless of the length of the TV presentation, there is a 'hook', a point in the storyline that attempts to secure your continuing viewing after the commercial. Of course, time has to be allocated so that the advertisers in corporate America can entice you to buy their products that promise more and greater sex, happiness and riches beyond your wildest dreams. Anyway,  as a script writer, you have to configure your script to those breakpoints. That class alerted me to the constraints and structures that script writers have to adhere to. But writers like me need a larger amount of canvas for the storyline that we are writing about.

For some reason, I don't cotton too well to being told how much to write and how to structure the storyline.  The creative aspect of me that is the source of everything I write doesn't specify structure and length; it just grabs me by the scuff of the neck and commands me to put pen to paper. One of the creative writing professors that I had mandated that all submissions to her was be less than twenty pages - double-spaced with Roman 12 font - 'keep sort stories short, the shorter the better'. When she said that, I had the feeling that she was trying to reduce her workload. She was in her sixties. I had thought that that directive was selfish, an attempt to curtail students' creativity to her standards and reduce her workload. A few of the students slipped in a comment or two that some writers need a larger space to express their story. A larger canvas  gives some elbow room to develop the characters enabling them a chance to grow and develop, providing a background so that the reader has an opportunity to identify with that character. For that you need forty to sixty pages - just for a short story - which is rendered to fifteen to twenty-five pages in published print. And I've read longer short stories.

I did wonder at the time that under those circumstances, how is creativity accurately evaluated? If we adhere to a professor's guidelines, does that really merit top marks in their class? If those that do that, does that reduce their creativity? I think so. I took those classes to develop/polish my own writing style, not to mirror the professor's writing style. For me, the best feedback comes from a workshop environment when your work is evaluated from all levels of writing experience. Granted, some of that feedback can be immediately discarded but the thoughtful analytics should be kept and considered. But if you are copying another's style, what use is the feedback?

One of the assignments in the script writing class was to develop a script based on a storyline of student choice. Yep, you guessed it; my script submission was from my main writing project. I evolved that five-minute scene from my acting class and turned it into a sixty minute script. Again, there were questions from the professor and students about the plot. Who is Jonathan Omega? What are his goals? Why is he so altruistic and free with some of the advanced technology at his disposal? Who are Sebastian Gage and Ethan Jared? Why are they following Omega's leadership? Such interest by readers doth stoke the fires of creativity within writers, letting them know that the fruit of their labors are worthwhile. Of course, I didn't answer their questions in a conclusive manner. What writer does except with the implication to read the story?

The other publishing effort that I accomplished in '12 was a compilation of all the short stories that I had written in '11 and during the first semester of '12. The following summer, I published  them in ebook and paperback formats. There are seven short stories within that work and all of them have an appreciable science fiction flavor. All of them have been edited by professors and classmates except for one - Detours. The feedback from the women readers has been overwhelmingly positive concerning that short story. I almost didn't include that one because it wasn't work shopped but I did anyway. The main character of that short story, Sarah Baron, was described by one reader as a mixture of Trinity, the Terminator and Mother Teresa, all rolled into one. Some of those short stories were centered on a strong female character that propelled the plot - nope, no fawning wallflowers are these ladies, expecting a male for rescue who is carrying explosive ordinance and testicle-activated firearms.

All of those short stories carry the common thread of my main writing project. That compilation can be found at Amazon.com titled Stories of New Genesis. Yes, looking at the online presentation one will conclude that it was an amateurish first try. I agree; didn't have the funds to hire professionals. Maybe next time...

Well, that takes care of 2012. And the world wasn't destroyed by evil in December which may be good thing.

Next post...let's see. Yep, I feel a rant coming on. Two events occurred in '08 and '12 that bears a fresh perspective. And I'm not talking about my bowel movements.

Till then...

Homeless - 88

Bonjour,

The year is 2012 and we are all going to die in December.

Parking spaces on a major university campus is somewhat scarce at times when they shouldn't be. And where the hell is valet parking? The first couple of weeks of a new semester is when you have to pay attention to the rhythm of the ebb and flow of class starts and ends. Even though I had a premium parking decal, I still had to time my arrival times wisely. University parking is tight at best but that was how it was designed. After all, a university is a business whose mandate is to maximize profits; one avenue being parking fees and parking fines.

My writing classes progressed. I continued to work out, scrubbing up afterward and then attending class; a routine as any other. I may have missed...no, I didn't miss any classes. I think my attendance was damn near perfect. My eagerness to attend every class stemmed from my desire to hear the comments, questions and feedback from my fellow classmates. The next generation of graduating class are a bit smarter than the previous generations in many cases. Maybe that is because the educational system is teaching them high-end mathematics like quantum mechanics - in the fourth grade. Or maybe it is due to so much information is thrown at them via all types of media that their developing mammalian brains sucks it all up like a 200 horsepower Hoover. Or maybe they're just growing up faster than the previous generations due to social pressures and the economic environment; or maybe from the pressure of corporate America that manipulates academia to produce highly-educated students that can be hired at lower tier wages. eavy
sigh> Every person deserves a carefree childhood devoid of those aspects and from the demands of capitalism, at least the American version of it.
We'll get back to that issue later.

Last year and this year gave rise to my idea that college would be more fun if all the professors didn't assign tasks that were due at the nearly the same time. Of course, the creative writing thing is exempt. For me, that effort always had priority. At first I thought that all of the professors met in a bar with the sole purpose of determining how to make the students' life as stressful as possible. Maybe it was at a strip club they met at - I don't know. Or maybe it all is a commie plot contrived in the '60's. I think the Rooskies are still pissed at us for landing on the moon first.; can't just let it go, can you guys?

My job search went on through '11 and '12 - looking for a part-time thing. I targeted convenience stores since I have experience in that arena. My first college sojourn consisted of employment in one across from campus in the early '80's. Times have changed. My current experience is that you have to speak a foreign language and be darker skinned to be hired. It may be that my unemployment worked to my advantage. The course work in both years required extensive online participation. I was in the library damn near everyday, either writing or researching. Believe you me, I thanked the spirit many times that I had a library branch that permitted me to stay online for several hours at a time. If you recall, my circumstances do not avail me the opportunity to access the net at my beck and call. Maybe if I had a chip planted in my brain...

Well, that day is coming for the arriving generations. From the standpoint of societal control and manipulations, population control by by the powers-that-are is a foregone conclusion.

We'll touch on that issue later...

Did I mention my time working as a grunt in the Dallas Public Library System (DPLS)? I think I did. During the three years I worked there I was part of a click that included only a few of the branch personnel. Toward the end of that period, one of them said something to the effect that somebody needs to write about the bullshit in the DPLS and how they treat their branch employees.

All eyes turned to me. I said I would and I did write about those experiences in '11. I didn't publish them until '12. I waited due to collegiate responsibilities and I wanted to get my money out of the DPLS  If I'd published those experiences before I got my money, I would still be trying to get it.

That blog is dallaspubliclibrary.blogspot.com. There are twelve posts. I swear on my supple spleen that the individuals described in that blog are actual, not contrived. The names have been altered but it should give the idea of how a dysfunctional management system operates.

Wait. Unfortunately, some of you already know that, don't you? Well, this is an animal of a different stripe.

This post will be concluded next entry...
 

Homeless - 87

Back again,

The winter of '11 was colder than usual; at least it seemed that way. No wait, it was, with more ice and snow. Campus was shut down in late January or maybe mid-February due to snow and ice. I remember that on the last day of winter in March, the forecast was mid-thirties and maybe a light dusting of snow. Next morning, there was a covering of snow four to five inches deep on BT and on everything else. It snowed more than usual that winter. From what I remember of Dallas winters, we might get two snow events - each maybe an inch or a little more of snow and/or ice and that shuts the area down. We got much more that year.

The expanded opportunity for writing, the sitting in the backyard in late evening on warm days enjoying a whiskey at the end of the day and my interactions with the cats were all quite enriching. Then there was the snowball fights with the kids across the street. There were four of them - a boy and three girls, all maybe 10 - 12 years of age. All contributed to my appreciation of that time at that location.

The first snowball conflict was initiated on a whim on my part. I went out to retrieve my backpack, filled with assignments by vicious, uncaring professors when I saw them playing across the street less than thirty meters distant. It had been a snowy day, heavy in the morning but tapering off after lunch and into early afternoon. I had talked to them a few times before in the past few weeks. They were socially adept, initiating interactions, just curious about me and the house I lived in.

Anyway, I put my backpack back in BT and closed the door. They had waved and called me by name. I made a couple of snowballs, one in each hand, and lofted them over their heads. Did I mention I'm somewhat amberdextious? The first snowball fight of Oakhill Drive was underway, the children's voices and laughter filling the area. When I'm in a life-or-death snowball conflict, whether with adults or children, I loft my rounds in an arc giving them time to evade. One girl and the boy had an arm and precise targeting. When I prepared following salvos, I kept on eye on their incoming, dodging with a turn of the shoulders, sometimes letting other snowballs hit me.

It was a good time.

There were a couple of times after a good snowfall, my across-the-street adversaries announced their arrival into the battle space with a snowball thrown against the front door. Yes, the cats did jump at the sound. Within ninety seconds, I was in the combat zone.

After the last snowball fight, when I came back into the house desperate to obtain feeling in my hands in front of the fireplace, the man of the house staggered in from the den, already hammered at four PM. He made a derogatory remark about my interaction with the kids. I told him that his comment was uncalled for and inappropriate. He staggered back into the den. That happened the last day of winter in '11. I was hoping I would be able to exercise restraint about his increasingly corrosive attitude until semester's end. I did.

I'd met that couple at one of the pools that I visited the previous couple of summers. There were several times that I slept on their floor on a weekend. They seemed alright. They were aware of my circumstances and my goals. They offered a room for rent when they moved into a house in '11 and I took it. But things went downhill at the beginning of March. I did last until late May and during that time discovered a toxic relationship between them that polluted the atmosphere. It was a circumstance that I wanted no part of and when the opportunity arose for a clean separation, I jumped at it. It seems that there are some people that you should keep at a distance lest you discover how they are. Those two were companions in misery, unable to find a suitable companion and lacking the strength and character to be comfortably alone.

The summer went well. The fall semester flowed to a successful completion. More writing went well.

Living out of the Black Thunder Hilton has several advantages. It is not a toxic environment; me and BT got along just fine especially when I polish her up. When alone, a person doesn't have to endure the wear and tear of the emotional aspect of human interaction, notably from dysfunctional individuals.. Also, you don't have to endure ego-driven conversations where the speakers tell how great and good they perceive themselves. That May I reactivated my membership at the workout center that I had frequented previously. During that time with the couple, all I did was stretching out, pushups and situps but that wasn't the same as using weights, both fixed and free. After the first half of '11, and in subsequent semesters, I would go work out, clean up and head to class.

From time to time, I wondered if the cats missed me. I chose to think so since I cleaned out their litter boxes on a daily basis. The couple only performed that responsibility once a week. To me, that borders on animal cruelty. For me, one of the rooms of a human living area that should be kept spotless is the bathroom. And we all know all fastidious a cat is about appearance and hygiene. Now, it must be painful for them to use the litter box on the third day. And the woman of the house is a veterinary technician.

I took an acting class - 300 level - because of the faint whisper that indicated that I might need to know about that arena. Let me tell you, that requires work and a collapse of self defenses, ideas and perceptions. The course was taught by a professor who was and still is quite active in theater, both locally and nationally. That course gave me an appreciation of the discipline that actors must adopt in pursuit of presenting a script in a believable fashion. The memorization of a script is taxing but I think that I lacked the proper technique, so I did it the old-fashioned way - rote. I participated in a scene from Uncle Vanya. After I read the entire play several times, I didn't understand then and still don't, the popularity of the play.

One of the assignments for that class was to construct a five-minute script, subject of choosing. Yep, you guessed it, mine was from my main writing project. I portrayed a character named Sebastian Gage who infiltrated Area 51 and was seemingly captured by that sire's security personnel.

The aspect of my portrayal that was appealing to me were the questions from the class and the professor about the story line. Maybe it was something in the writer in me that appreciated the interest. I kept the notes and have the intention of pursuing that story line further. Sebastian Gage is a character that demands more be written about him. I have plans for that guy. I have written a couple of short stories about him but more on that later.

Next post will deal with 2012...

Homeless - 86

Greetings,

The year 2011 was certainly a change of pace for me. I disengaged from the Dallas Public Library System where I worked as a grunt. College funding adequately addressed my pressing and continuing financial needs allowing me to separate from a toxic work environment; at least it was for me due to leadership issues. From 1/11 to 5/11, I lived under a larger roof with a couple that were 'living together'. And, most importantly, I was in the position to have my writing evaluated by published professors of creative writing and by those fellow students with considerable writing experience; some were published themselves.

Their feedback was invaluable to me in the sense that I had thought of myself as an aspiring writer. One of the writing professors had told me after a class that I wasn't an aspiring writer; I was a writer but just unrecognized at that point. She had read a couple pieces of my work. To know something within yourself is one thing but to have a self-perception resonated from others is something of a forging aspect. I saved a few of their comments, especially from the professors. I hope to have them framed  when I can afford a dedicated writing space. I carry them in my man-purse, bitch purse, man-bag, European purse - whatever. It's the same shoulder tote that I carry pen, paper, soap, dental floss, digital voice recorder, cell and reloads within. It's getting heavy. Oh, and the launch codes for the orbital missile platforms. Trust me, those codes are somewhat longer than an  ATM PIN. Why do you think that Obama always has a guy at his side carrying the nuclear football? It is a safe bet that that satchel does not contain Obama's primo stash. Well, maybe just a little of it. Airport security ain't getting into that bag.

During the first ten weeks of '11, I was able to address repair and maintenance issues regarding Black Thunder. If you recall, she is my transport and shelter, serving in that capacity since '07. The huge salary that the DPLS payed the grunts at that time, the backbone of the library system, was insufficient for me to properly take care of her in the style that she was accustomed to. The outstanding vacation time coupled with my sojourn as a black French blond stripper supplied me with funds to return BT to optimal functioning.

Her systems that were replaced or repaired: the entire fuel system, brakes, some computer modules, front interior skirts in the wheel wells, tires ($500 for four - the cheap ones!), a sensor or two, radiator, water pump and passenger door lock motor. There was a tune-up in there, too. Previously I barely had enough for insurance, registration fees and inspections.

And then there was the alarm system. I had a previous truck - a red version of BT but a Chevy. I didn't put an alarm system on it. I paid it off and within three weeks after that, it was stolen less that thirty meters from my apartment door. When I bought BT in '96, her first stop was to have an alarm system installed - a Clifford with remote start option. That was an all day affair. Let me tell you, a remote start comes in handy during a TX summer, and winter for that matter. Two key chain remotes came with it. Those died a noble death, the last one in '08. I went to buy another remote and discovered that Clifford had been bought out by another company That company discontinued the manufacture of those remotes. They could be bought on E-bay but I didn't trust the quality. Yes, for a while she was defenseless on the evil streets. So in 1/11, I had to buy another alarm system. Thankfully, the installation personnel used the majority of the existing alarm system components and for a measly $500, I got two new pretty remotes and a flashing hyper blue light on the dash when the system is active.

You got to hand it to those corporate upper management pricks; they do know how to maximize profits. That is the capitalist way - forever and amen.

The AC unit in BT is still offline. It would cost around $1500 to replace the entire unit. I didn't have it then and still don't. But she runs like a hungry cheetah and looks good.

Living under a larger roof, that of a house, presents several advantages. From 5/07 to 1/11, I had been car
camping: well, truck camping to be more accurate. From 1/11 to 5/11, I had the advantages of middle-class urban living. I had a large bathroom to myself; a shower whenever I wanted! The small bedroom that was mine was more than adequate. I was able to unpack BT and hang clothes in a closet, put clothes in drawers. A washer and dryer was available; kitchen, too, which I exploited ruthlessly for home-cooked meals. Internet was available sometimes. There were three TVs - one was for my use, one for her and one for him, all in separate rooms. There was an adequate backyard that had a table and chairs - quite nice to sit during good weather in April and May.

And perhaps the best thing was a large dining area that the couple never used that had a large table; that was my study area. I was no longer constrained by parking lot lights, daylight or library hours. I could write as the spirit moved me which I did.

An added bonus that doesn't seem like much was that they had four cats and a little shit dog. I found that my best wring hours, usually, is after the sun sets. I'd be sitting at the table writing and the cats would wander in and lay at my feet, sometimes on them. The guy of the house would would be back in the den, either watching football stuff or gaming on the largest TV, and she would be back in their bedroom watching her shows. Maybe the cats liked the quiet of my writing space, maybe they liked the smell of my feet; hell, maybe they liked the fact that I never yelled at them. But I know that when I paused in writing, searching for a word or a phrase, I'd reach down and pet one of them, and there was purring - uhhh, from them, not me.

I can see why some writers keep companions in the household. Hopefully, I will get to that stage soon.

To be concluded next post...

Homeless - 85

We interrupt scheduled programming for the following message.

Anyone seen an asteroid in these parts lately?

Astronomers accurately predicated one would swing by our planet and pass within nearly 18,000 miles on a certain vector. That path would take it well inside the geosync orbit of Earth, a region where a lot of our satellites orbit; you know, for cellphone coverage, weather forecasting, spying and nuclear missile launch platforms. By itself, that fact alone wold cause one to shift anxiously in their seat and start stroking their household pet faster and harder. Astronomers run by numbers - this much speed and this much mass will end up at point X at this time. If there is anything important at those coordinates, please move it or lose it.

OK, OK, there is one time I remember when the numbers didn't allegedly work out. Several years ago we sent a robe to Mars and never heard from it again. NASA's explanation was that they sent a course correction to the probe but made an error. They sent that correction based on miles-per-second instead of kilometers-per-second which it should have been. Oh please, what a lame excuse. Astronomers deal with the metric system all the time and there ain't no high-schoolers on those teams. I didn't believe it then and still don't. Yep, there is only one explanation: Martians. But we never had an enviable track record sending probes to Mars; to Jupiter space, sure, no problem. Our track record regarding Mars is little better than a major leaguer's batting average.

I have digressed.

As it turns out, the numbers were right on about that asteroid and it behaved as anticipated.

But what about the other asteroid coming from the other direction?!? You know, the one that entered our atmosphere and released an amount of energy comparable to a 500 kiloton warhead in Rooskie airspace. Yeah, that one. I'd like to keep abreast of such minor things.

Up until this point, I had thought that with the number of professional and amateur astronomers, and the space assets in orbit and beyond, we should have caught that puppy sneaking up our flanks and sounded an alert. Hey guys, what the hell is that? Some of us remember the demise of the dinos and really don't want humanity to check out in a similar fashion. Besides, this planet is where I keep all my stuff, including my young ass. Humanity should be like a band of meerkats. Dedicated watchouts constantly on the alert, nerves stretched tight and twitching. I'd probably be twitching too if I had just ingested a fat, juicy desert scorpion in three bites.

Maybe we need to upgrade our detection systems. Of course, that would be another expense that would be a another burden to the taxpayer. Maybe Bill Gates can help us out on that one

We got off lucky this time. That ol' asteroid could've triggered WWW III. I'm surprised that Quick Draw McPutin didn't authorize a full-scale missile launch aimed at...everybody, showing all the power and glory of Mother Russia. Come to think of it, I'm surprised China didn't execute a launch or two; they like to take target practice at things in orbit.

You know, maybe this event presents an opportunity for all three of us to start working together. We are the three 800 kilo gorillas on the planet, not counting Nova Scotia of course. It would take a few tweaks to our foreign policy stance, and theirs, but the yield would be tremendous. Our three nations working together in building and maintaining a planetary sky watch system to spot crap like this when the gods are screwing with us.

And as a added bonus, I'm pretty sure that they have quite a few of hot scientist babes, just like we do.

We now return you to regularly scheduled programming.

Homeless - 84

Hello ya'll,

Yes, I'm still enduring and I've made it this far thanks to the auspices of the spirit of the universe. And yes, I'm still a plaything of the gods, the fickle bitches that they are. They could make things a lot easier but nooooo, they have to play their games in pursuit of the master plan. But it's probably the same with you unless you're Bill Gates.

My last post was in August 2010 if you disregard the previous post. For some reason, I didn't post it at that time, probably due to a senior moment. Time does pass with much quickness...at times. This blog has always been lurking toward the back of my thoughts. To me, it is a story that lacks conclusion.

And my story isn't over - yet.

 I'm still living our of Black Thunder. Functionally speaking, she is near baseline capabilities and, of course, looking rather marvelous. Rain water beads on her young ebony hide better that that on a duck's butt. Light gleams off her, blinding the unwary. Once a week, I take her out of the tollway for a warp 90 run; clears out her fuel system and purges toxins from her systems, not unlike exercise does for me. Yes, I need to keep her optimal because without her things would be a whole lot worse for me.

Around the end of summer in 2010, I thought that my writing goals had little chance of being realized given the current circumstances. I was becoming more involved in the daily operations of the branch library where I worked, often times working on items on my own time. True, that extra work was beyond my job description and my function. That involvement seriously curtailed my writing efforts. I told myself, at that time, 'just another couple of months' but the analyst in me couldn't let it go.

During 2008/2009 I participated in a couple of writer's workshops. My experiences in those environments left me with the feeling that I needed a more mature and sophisticated dialogue. It seemed that I was writing over their heads in terms of hard science, military tactics and human  interaction. Toward that last quarter of 2010, the idea came to me that perhaps I need more experienced feedback regarding my writing. I enrolled in creative writing classes at a local university that was a participant in the American Writers' Program (AWP). As things developed, I was granted admittance and received funding.

Quite possibly, I was the oldest living freshman on campus. And the college environment had drastically changed. Virtual classrooms, significant amount of online work, blue hair, pink hair, tattoos, piercings, what dress code, etc. There were surcharges out of the yahoo. From a business prospective, I guess a university has to make money, too. And they are more than willing to take it from  you. And you have to give it to the banking industry - they locked that debt responsibility up. No getting out from under it - no bankruptcy, etc. You will pay on that debt until it's paid off or until you die. I didn't find that out till 2012. I guess the banking industry learned from the predatory lending of the housing market of the recent past.

It does seem that a class action lawsuit is in the near future but I doubt it. The bankers will have their politicians put in place more rules.

But my writing did improve a bit. More on that later and my experiences in dealing with the professors.

Next post will be a succinct review of my 2011 academic activities.

Homeless - 83

Greetings, bipeds,

Kinda hot, eh? The heat in the Dallas area recently could have fried the hide off of lizard's testicles.I assume the males of the species have some but I'm not in the habit of checking out the balls of any life-form. I tell myself that I just have to endure this until the end of September when it starts to cool off to the low 90's. It's twue that I have options to escape the heat and sleep comfortably in AC but I don't want to appear wimpy at the first sign of discomfortt. I tell myself that I'm saving those options when it really gets tough, like when the dark underlord shows up and I might need a little help.

I'm continuing the same theme as the last couple of posts; that of my non-human relationships, excluding those that required an air pump and plastic inflatable caricatures. The last post told of Chief, a half-Doberman, half-Shepard that shared some time with me. The same goes for Mookie who was not my legal companion but a close associate, never the less.

The last relationship of that kind that I'm sharing with you is about a car, a feline domesticus, great hunter and predator. Her name was Cassandra (Cass) and I adopted her from the SPCA when she was three months old, by their reckoning. She had short hair, all black and gold eyes. It turned out that she was a special feline who matured into a special friend. She was procured during a time when I cohabitated with a human female. She had bought a miniature Schnoozer and I thought a counter-balance was needed. On a whim, I stopped by a SPCA with really no goal in mind and toured the cat area. If you never visited a place like that, do so. Cats meowing, dogs barking, camels spitting, water buffalo trying to kill you, the occasional giraffae trying to hoof you - Matrix skills are a much needed ability. Anyway, I went to the feline section where there was, of course, much meowing - they know there is an expiration date somewhere in their near future. While touring the cages, I stopped by one that was quiet and a cat roused and came to the front of the cage. She raised a paw and put it on the bar of the cage and softly meowed. And there was that look in her eyes.

I am digressing at this point. There is something about the eyes of a living being that reflects their character, assuming they ain't a leafy plant but we'll get back to that. If they are beaten down, been abused, the cant of their eyes will reflect that. Of course, there are those few that my have been in that situation but still have the strength of character to bounce back and extend a middle finger/claw to the world saying 'fuck you'. Of those, those that have this attitude, human or not, there is an intensity in their eyes, a shine, a directness that is devoid of being subjugated, of being defeated. Hope, curiosity and exploration are elements that are alive in such eyes.

Such as it was with Cass. I turned to the attendant and said that she is coming with me. And a relationship that lasted around three years began, with prevailing elements of laughter, affection, discovery and sorrow.

The first time it snowed in Wichita, the first time for Cass anyway, I came home and found her sitting in front of the 2nd story sliding glass door, watching it snow. She looked at me, meowed and returned watching the snow. I changed out of the corporate clothes into a sweatsuit, walked down the stairs and told her to 'let's go', heading for the first story level to the townhouse that had a sliding glass door in the back, I picked her up and went outside into the heavy snowfall. She was coiled around my neck, eyes alive watching the quiet snowfall. After standing a couple of minutes, I reached out a hand with palm up and collected a bit of snow with her watching. I put it in my mouth and collected some more and put it to her mouth. She sniffed a bit and started licking the rest of it. I put her down and she roamed, finallly running back up my leg and wrapped around my neck as if she had enough.

Still think of her now and then.



P.S.

I wrote this post and never published it. I wrote it in Aug. 2010. Anyway there are more posts coming.