Buck up! Be Man!

Buck up! Be Man! Buck up! Be Man!

I just got out of a meeting with the Boss I am going to Atlanta ! I hesitate a bit musing the exclamation point. I know, I wrote a couple, of weeks ago, when this issue/opportunity first came up about how much I did not want to go but now I have had a chance to rethink the challenge and I am feeling I just might be up for it. I did the expense project, as the Boss, requested and found the whole thing very doable. I also got to thinking. I have time before May to really focus on my strengthening. If I truly focus on this project I will feel much more comfortable about traveling alone. I am anticipating Atlanta will be warm at this point in the year so I should be able to move round much ore free then I did, say, in Philadelphia. So, I decided to stop boobing and take the trip and enjoy the opportunity. Besides, I have a nemeses who directs an Assistive Tech (AT) program here in town and he has been making great noises like HE is going which he feels will make HIM the focal point for AT reutilization in the state.

Let me digress a minute- I want to explain that just because I use the word “nemesis” I don’t necessarily dislike this individual it just that he can be hard to be round sometimes. The guy is brilliant in he own way-infact so much so he actually isolates himself from his peers unknowingly and unintentionally. He is one of those folk who uses jargon to try to impress people and all his jargon just works to move the people he was trying to impress further away from him.

So, with that said maybe I want to go so I will have an even hand if not an upper-hand with this person. I am the current chair of the AT Council for the State which chairs most of the AT players in the state: rehab, Independent Living, Info and Referral and various private non-profits which have hosted “Loan Closets”. Multiple Sclerosis, Easter Seals and United Cerebral Palsy to name a couple, loan out power wheelchairs, some computers and various other pieces of AT, are some of these players. Actually what really worries about this guy having too much control of such a project is that he is easily led ( directed) by those in power. I believe there are some real “Darksiders” in high areas who have direct control over this guy and his programs. I believe the least amount of control these folks have of an AT reutilization the better Now, I don’t want to be the head honcho of this project I just don’t want the project controlled by this other individual. I do have to admit this guy does have excellent organizational skills and is not afraid to bug a person until the project is completed.

So, I am a jerk. This is not new information I just want to be have a say in the AT program when the program might be brought back to this state and, in some way, make the transition as painless as possible.


I just got out of a meeting with the Boss I am going to Atlanta ! I hesitate a bit musing the exclamation point. I know, I wrote a couple, of weeks ago, when this issue/opportunity first came up about how much I did not want to go but now I have had a chance to rethink the challenge and I am feeling I just might be up for it. I did the expense project, as the Boss, requested and found the whole thing very doable. I also got to thinking. I have time before May to really focus on my strengthening. If I truly focus on this project I will feel much more comfortable about traveling alone. I am anticipating Atlanta will be warm at this point in the year so I should be able to move round much ore free then I did, say, in Philadelphia. So, I decided to stop boobing and take the trip and enjoy the opportunity. Besides, I have a nemeses who directs an Assistive Tech (AT) program here in town and he has been making great noises like HE is going which he feels will make HIM the focal point for AT reutilization in the state.

Let me digress a minute- I want to explain that just because I use the word “nemesis” I don’t necessarily dislike this individual it just that he can be hard to be round sometimes. The guy is brilliant in he own way-infact so much so he actually isolates himself from his peers unknowingly and unintentionally. He is one of those folk who uses jargon to try to impress people and all his jargon just works to move the people he was trying to impress further away from him.

So, with that said maybe I want to go so I will have an even hand if not an upper-hand with this person. I am the current chair of the AT Council for the State which chairs most of the AT players in the state: rehab, Independent Living, Info and Referral and various private non-profits which have hosted “Loan Closets”. Multiple Sclerosis, Easter Seals and United Cerebral Palsy to name a couple, loan out power wheelchairs, some computers and various other pieces of AT, are some of these players. Actually what really worries about this guy having too much control of such a project is that he is easily led ( directed) by those in power. I believe there are some real “Darksiders” in high areas who have direct control over this guy and his programs. I believe the least amount of control these folks have of an AT reutilization the better Now, I don’t want to be the head honcho of this project I just don’t want the project controlled by this other individual. I do have to admit this guy does have excellent organizational skills and is not afraid to bug a person until the project is completed.

So, I am a jerk. This is not new information I just want to be have a say in the AT program when the program might be brought back to this state and, in some way, make the transition as painless as possible.

I see Dead People

I had the strangest experience about a week ago. I am still trying to figure it out. It was the weekend and I was home alone. I do not know where Dianne was out doing something or maybe she was laying down. I had been working on the computer. So, I could have been a bit buggy but I was conscience and I was a ware. I was rolling down the hall when I suddenly felt something in the room with next I found startling. The sensation past quickly almost immediately; but suddenly in my field of vision I thought I perceived a small cloud of energy
trying to bring itself into focus. I know I was so startled that I yelped and blinked once. As soon as I blinked what ever I had been looking at disappeared suddenly and totally and if it had never been there. I was quite chagrinned after this event and was glad there was no one else there with me at the time. In the week which has intervened I have told no one else and have not been able to completely shake the event. The event really did not frighten me as much as startle me. I cannot shake the feeling that someone or something was trying to “pull itself into my reality.”

Three days ago I was getting ready for work—I get up at 4:30 am to get ready for work. I am usually the only one up so I am by myself. I shower and shave first then go up to the kitchen and make coffee or breakfast of some sort before I get dressed. We have a galley-kitchen which connects with the hallway which separates the dinning room from the TV area. Anyway, I was coming up from the bedroom and as I came on deck( the level of the kitchen) I thought for a split second someone looking at me, just standing looking at me. I know I did not see anyone or thing but I know I thought I did. I did not yelp this time. I “swallowed” emotion as feast as the emotion came upon me—I still don’t know what to think.

Last night I dreamt of my father. Dad has been dead for almost ten years now and I think I may have only had two other dreams which my dad took part. I was in a strangely familiar building and suddenly there he was in tan work slacks and a flannel shirt. This was a common out fit for him the last years of his life. Dad looked at me and asked of I could get him his sister’s address. I do not even know if his sister is still alive. If she is alive I am not sure how to convey this information to dad. If dad is in the “spirit world” I would think they would have better access to phonebooks and Polk directories then I do. Dianne said if I were to have this address and just write the address down on a piece of paper and in that process dad would get the desired information. Quite frankly I do not even know how to begin this search. I could call and ask my mom if aunt Bessie was still alive ad if so what is her address but if I do that how is my dear old but very much intact mom going to react If Aunt Bessie is dead, then does dad just want the address of where she is buried? Well he need a zip code, do they even have zip codes in Canada? Again, if they are both in the “zone” why cannot dad just drop in on her?? Perhaps the largest and most looming question I have is are any if not all these events related and what should I make of them??

Extra Extra

The best thing about working downtown is there is always something happening. This week when I came to work I notice a film production company had moved in to the parking lot just North of our building. The weather has been so unpleasant of late I have not been able to talk with anyone from the “production village” to find who, what , when where and why.

The obvious question I want to ask is: “Are they looking for extras”. In my life I have been an extra on one movie production site and that was a couple of years ago. Maldonado Miracle Plot Outline: In a small, dying town, the residents' faith is tested when a statue of Jesus seems to be shedding real tears of blood.. The production company needed a bunch of wheelchair people and other obvious disabilities to march pathetically in the hot noonday sun to the church in hope of accessing the “miracle” his was a less the stellar even in my life by time and distance from the event has made an interesting memory and a wonderful bit of personal trivia to drop almost anywhere. To get to the production site I had to literally drive 60-70 miles to deep rural Utah way early in the morning and return way late in the night. I almost killed a deer on the way home. But I have to admit the experience was interesting and I would be an extra again if the event were closer to home. It’s tough to find good “crip” roles though. I need to join the Screen Actors Guild in order to get on serious “roll-calls”. Utah sees a lot of production work because Utah is a Right to Work state—I guess it’s cheaper to film in Utah hen other states since the company does not have to pay Union Scale. I should feel more guilt but HEY, it’s the movies.

The work of an extra, most if the time, is waiting. I did a 12 hour day and I would bet actual shooting time was less then two hours. The rest of the day was spent waiting for scenes to be set up to shoot. We did shoot they shot hard. We must have re=shot scenes 20 times sometimes. This is nerve racking because everything is literally reversed. You have to retrace your steps until the looked exactly the same as when you first started the scene. Then you do the whole thing over again, and again and again. We did this till we lost daylight. Then we worked on a night scene till 11:00 when then stopped production for the day…the I still had to drive back home. The shooting area was an almost abandoned ghost town in Central Utah called “Eureka” I had to drive thirty miles just to access the Interstate North to get back to Utah County. This was when I was attacked by the stupid deep jumping into my headlights! This certainly woke me up. Luckily I missed dodge the young buck or he missed me. I was supposed to be back on set the following morning at 7:00 am but I did not make it. Selma Hayek would just have to finds another extra..

I promised myself I would never go through that kind of abuse to be an extra but I would think about crossing the parking lot.

My Computer ate My Stats

My Computer ate My Stats!

I am one week away from my quarterly Advisory Board Meeting, that meeting where I present the work and actions of the office I work in.  We present the phone calls we received over the past three months. We use software developed by a guy from the local 211 agency (Info and Referral(This is a long story of how we came by using this software and  would drive me crazy having to relive this history.) Any way the problem now is that a few moments following one o-clock I was entering data when my computer seemed to hiccup  and the next thing I new I was filling out “form 1”.  I had been working on “form 4366” or something like that—you never pay attention to what is happening when an event like this happens.  I always think I know where I am but am never quite sure exactly where I was when the incident occurs.   What I do know is that  I am now loading data to a  folder named “Admin”.  This has happened before and I have had to get the software’ creator over here to “point” the system back to the correct  folder.  What a pain. So Now I am going call “the boys” and see if they can come over and find the wandering folder.    I have to do this before Friday because my meeting is next Tuesday  and I don’t want to be sweating bullets  all weekend and Monday.  I want to have most of the meeting done by Friday or it’s in the office extra early Monday morning to make copies of these stats and any extras which might be needed for the Tuesday morning meeting.

Just got off the phone with my buddy from 211. I was going to try to get hold of the guy
Who sold us the software to see if I could low my blood pressure but  of course 98.6 was not there. Seems like he out in the “field” doing taxes for Seniors and low-income. Sounds like 98.6 is pretty busy these day.  I hope his sidekick is then available. Juan, the sidekick, he who knows the software is the one we really need. Juan is a bit of an enigma, He really does not work at 211( as far as I can tell) and seems can only be reached via 98.6.  But it Juan who really ends up fixing these huge mistakes I continue to make.  I just hope I can find Juan by Friday.

  My buddy and I were talking about the national organization we belong to airs  (The Alliance if Information and Referral Systems) AIRS. We are glorified operators nothing more. Anyway it’s national conference rime.  His year the conference is in  Milwaukee, Wisconsin. What a joke!   I have gone to two of these conferences a and not only are they a monumental waste of my time and costly  they are also an exercise in social destruction.  The organization if very clique (clicky)  and if you are not in the know then you might as well as go.  They work very hard to glorify the operators position in life by having these conferences, charge large sums of money to participate oh and then have  tests to rank order you in the organization. Am I bitter?

A Couple Days in May

A couple of weeks ago,  I had a flurry of emails about a conference in May to be held in Atlanta Georgia. This conference was announced right after I got home from my trip to Philadelphia so I figured I did not have a chance to go.  Not that I wanted to go. I don’t.  It’s just too much trouble for me.  See all the issues I outlined when considering the Philly trip.  I do not think taking Dianne on this trip is an option either since she will be gone to N.O. La to spend time with her family.  

I did not bring up the conference ( a re-utilization conference) in staff meeting and I was a bit chagrinned when my boss happened to be bombarded by the same emails that I was about this trip. She indicated that this trip had a scholarship for private non-profits and that I should look into seeing what kind of scholarship I could get.  So, I did some checking and I soon found the “scholarship” it was a total of $250.00 to be used for logging.   I figured the hotel bill alone would be $450.00—so when you figure in travel, meals and ground travel the $250.00 is a drop in the bucket.  And the main source of possible funding I have used in the past has “dried up. So, I figured there was no chance pursuing the issue any longer.  I had just about forgot the whole issue when in staff meeting this morning the boos, out of the blue asked how my search was going.  I hastily explained the problem I ran into and the decision I had made. Well, the boss thinks it might be good for me to attend since I have a strong commitment to re-utilization and she knows this.  The attendance at this conference might also be good for this office since there seems to be a threat to the offices existence and the more pies we have our finger in the better. So, all morning I have been developing a proposal for the trip to Atlanta.  I was really hoping the numbers would be the greatest deterrent to such a trip.   But I just got off the phone with State travel There is a flight with Continental Air for $240.00--ROUNDTRIP!!!!  So with the lodging quote 0f  250.00+ 240.00 we are looking at 490.00 add  ground travel and per diem   we could pull the whole thing off for less the 800.00.  Even I have to reconsider this option.  The boss may figure it worth the time to send me. Then where will I be? Atlanta.

So, like a good little employee I am finishing the proposal  and will hand it in.  If approved I will then try to find funding that might send me to such a trip.  I am fairly confident that I will not be able to find the resources I need to make the trip. But you never know. I know folks in fairly high places –whom I know in the past have been able to tie in to mysterious pots of money for travel when travel was needed. There are a number of agency and programs in the area which have exhibited an interest in reutilization of durable medical equipment. Maybe they could scrape up the amount needed.  

The fact remains I don’t want to go—I seem to have too much to do and a fear of travel by myself. I can do the travel if I have to I would just rather not.

Junk Drawer

The past two days I have been cleaning the “junk drawer” that place in the house where everything ends up being stashed. Every house has one I know this to be true. Some houses drawer s are not as big and as complicated as our but there there. I think the best junk drawers are those which are built into the house. I think being build into the structure give the drawer a level of credibility needed for the drawers job. The drawer must act as receptacle for the archeological history. Things which are not important enough to rate the mantle, front room books shelf or the top of the piano but still retain enough value to be saved from the garbage end up in the drawer. Sometimes, I think, to just distance the person from the object—with enough time the object will devalue to the point of being able to be thrown away. Alas the items end up in the drawer and then are forgotten to be layered over by the next level.

The junk drawer is a sad receptacle. In this drawer lies half finished project, games and toys—especially little things like knickknacks and mc Donald toys shrugged off after the happy meal turned sad. I don’t know if this drawer has even been cleaned since we moved here 15 years ago. I am sure it has but I found memorabilia for Starwars promotions from the late 90’s. I found hundreds of pencils (sharpened and never sharpened) pen with and with out tops. In fact one major project was going through and trying out each pen o see which were still useable. I bet I tossed over fifty pens. I think the best preserved pen over all is the Bic. There were more Bics which still worked then any other. There was one card game scattered all through the drawer, orange plastic ties and three medals on ribbons all tangled in boondoggle plastic. (you know that stuff you braid together to make key chains, bracelets which end up in the drawer. ) The boondoggle was tenacious wrapped in and around everything. In fact the boondoggle almost defeated me. I had to find just the right device to wrap the boondoggle on to wrap in to a manageable bow. That found, I separated the doggle from all the other junk in the drawer. This helped a lot. I ended up stuffing all the boondoggle into a sandwich bag. I wrapped the three extension cords into individual coils and secured them with rubber bands and stuck them in the “cord” drawer I keep in the “computer room”. Lanyards and plastic name holders broken glass frames and shoelaces were thrown away. Broken pieces of plastic and millions of pieces of paper-notes, lists grocery receipt tapes and dollars in change, mostly dimes, nickels and pennies most of it thrown away. We kept the money of course that can be recycled. I had almost forgotten what prompted the clean out. I was going to do some sketching and I needed one of those little hand held pencil sharpeners the ones the size of your thumb that all kids have kicking round their desk or in their pencil pouch or back pack which is always emptied, at the end of the year into the “junk drawer”.

Just Drive She Said

I gotta a call earlier this afternoon from a guy who was trying to find some supports for his alcoholic x-wife. He had been bouncing round different providers all day and finally ended up calling us. The guy was worn out and frustrated by our interfacing. In fact earlier in the conversation, I sensed he was real close to exploding. He had called all he places I referred him to stating these folks did not care and would not help. I guessed they had told him there was nothing they could do for his X. I affirmed what the alcohol rehabs had told him and went on to explain that until his X had hit “rock bottom” there was not anything anyone could do. I explain that I had work as an alcohol rehabilitation counselor twenty some years ago—how I had been amazed at he incredible people who came through the Center. People who were accomplished, driven to success and had amassed fortune after fortune after fortune but, in the end, had drunken their success away. These people did this over and over again until finally one night (or day) something clicked, and they figured they were “broken” they could sink no further. If they were going to continue own with their life they would have to turn their life over to a “higher power”. Of course this is AA verbage but it works, the Big Blue Book, sponsorship and endless AA meetings. But it seems to work. My afternoon caller seemed like a nice guy, though a bit of an enabler. He was having a hard time accepting the “hard ball” attitude of the alcohol programs in this area. The X is going through a divorce and then I found that my caller was going through a divorce of his own. I could almost sense he was about ready to jump back into his marriage of dependency. I forced myself to stay out that conversation. By the end of the call he was less angry then he had started the call. He was still confused and stuck right in the middle of this alcoholic spiders web. I think he is a enabler, probably always had been. He is a rescuer too( did I not just sort of say that?). I doubt he is ready to let his X hit bottom just yet—sounds like there are two marriages to finish first, then one last flush or dependant enablement abuse then if the X is still alive the enabler has seen the part he has played in the whole affair then maybe they can get into rehab of one sort or another and just maybe enjoy the last years of their lives.

Tonight I am supporting Dianne at the viewing of her therapist. I am hoping against hope we will be able to get something downtown to eat after the viewing. I realistically feel this is not going to happen. Dianne is driving the van into the city, the viewing is way down on first temple( not far from my work). I think my main job is to drive us both home after the event. But we shall see.

Spring Ride

Spring Ride

I had a meeting of the writers group I associate with over lunch and I elected to take the bus “fixed route” service, or the regular bus route. The restaurant is right on the bus line and the bus goes right by my office. It’s an easy ride as far as accessing the system from my office. I ride almost a hundred percent the train these days. I forget what riding the fixed route system is like.

Now, it may just be my imagination but I sense a commotion on the main line that I do not sense on the train. I am not sure why except class. People with less money ride the bus because the ride is less expensive then train; also, the train is a fixed corridor where as the bus lines are “still” many and varied and serve all the county area. State street “22” is the route I ride to get to the lunch today. State Street is the main artery in Salt Lake, State street services several Department of Workforce Services, plasma shops, Department of motor vehicles, City, State and federal Court houses and a host of State Liquor Stores. On the State street Bus noise level is always at a low level white noise if one does not concentrate but if you choose to listen you can here bit and pieces of conversations from every conceivable class. Kids busing to a better school district, folks on cell phones desperately calling their pro-bono legal counsels to make sure their met at the court house because their case is “up today” at 1:00 pm and “they better be there” Or the guy who is trying to pick up the chick he just met on the bus by telling her “my ride’s in the garage and I’m going down to pick it up” or “ I got my ride stolen last night and I think they may have found it and I going down town to pick it up.” Then there’s kids screaming and mom’s with black plastic bags on their way to find a laundry mat somewhere to do the families wash; girls is way short skirts I mean way young girls, barely teen agers who should be in school but who are not , on their way to trouble. I swear there is always someone on the bus somewhere with a western drawl trying to convince someone of how bogus the Warren Commission was or how he was a lost special forces soldier and has to report in to the VA hospital once a week for his shots. It’s public theater! It’s like all the worst PBS radio stories came to life at once and you are living them or least listening and if not a story for NPR then they should be.

The ride back to work following the meeting seemed less chaotic. It was mid day—the school kids are not out of class yet and the afternoon torrent of laborers returning home from their days work is still hours away. The day is cool but definitely Spring. Motorcycles were roaring all up and down State Street. Temps tomorrow should be near 60…

I have included a number of images taken on my trip today.

Drive a Spit up my Butt and Call Me "Porky"

I tried to  get some physical therapy yesterday—I make it sound like I just dropped in on a clinic and asked for pt BUT in actuality, I have been trying to access this PT since before my Philly trip.  Now, mind you, I have been using a wheelchair of some sort for the past 40 years: that’s a long time. As I have aged I have noticed my body changing and most important, to me, I am loosing my upper body strength.  Insidiously, but losing strength all the same. So, I finally decide to make the leap and sign up for some since I have the medical currently and I have the time.  

I spent the morning, yesterday in Utah County doing a presentation at Utah Valley State College (UVSC).   I  was distressed driving my van down to hear and feel a weird noise emanating up from the floorboards.  I actually should have stopped at the onset and drove my vehicle straight to the garage I use for vehicle repairs. I did not though, letting my commitment to UVSC over ride my common sense. I have to report I came out of the experience OK. Just dumb luck or divine intervention.  I still have to drop the vehicle off for evaluation. I know it’s going to be expensive just by the way it sounds.

So, I have the van, I leave work at 4:00  to make my 4:45 appointment at my Health provider.  I am 5 minutes late but that is cool. The P.T. unit is located in the basement of the health delivery facility. I forget it is later in the work day and find the facility heavy with employees and few consumers. I sign in at the desk and am asked to wait: typical.  I find a bathroom and re-dress and when I come back I m met by a guy and gal.  The is a registered P.T. and is definitely in charge and addresses a young blond all business bomb-shell . The PT explains that Christy will take an in-depth history during this session then they will both visit with me to see how best to proceed with good physical therapy services. So, the PT turns me loose with the other PT Christy, who is very young, very blonde and very intense. We go to the “big” room where it will be easier for me to get around with my chair. She furrows her brow and begins asking me all kinds of questions relevant to my case—this goes on for some time and finally she steps out and confers with the other PT and Christy then returns and tells me she they cannot help me at this clinic .  She continues to state that she is just interning here at this clinic and will not be round long enough to really spend anytime on my case. I really need to go to a P.T. shop where I can be round staff that work with spinal cord injuries.  No one at this clinic has this experience.  Really, I would think when someone in a power chair rolled in that someone should considered that they might need neurological PT—someone could have ended the meeting right there and referred up to the University Medical Center Rehab Center. So now I have to go back to the Ortho surgeon and have him refer me to UoU Rehab Center.

Also so, should not someone have enlightened me that this was a P.T. Intern and that I or my insurance is paying for price for an intern to just refer me to another clinic in their vast service? Why did not the real P.T. not advise me of this. I don’t mind being the training pig as long as I get something our of the BBQ except a spit up my butt.

Learn the Lesson

Yesterday we found out a very close friend to Dianne was found dead in her room over the weekend. This women owned her own business and was just a couple years younger then us. She had not had the best of health but we did not have any clue she would just drop dead. Dianne was pretty close to her and is pretty devastated.

These kind or reports are becoming more and more common as I age and I perceive them as lessons or the ‘BIG LESSON”: Time on this dirt ball is limited and I need to get the things accomplished I want to accomplish or I am just going to run out of time and they are not going to get done. Actually, at this point I need to make some decisions: Do I want a medical degree? Not really, And a medical degree to me is not realistic at this point in life but I could do something with art. I could take an art class, a writing class or wood working class or least wise clean out my garage where my wood shop is. I got another lesson yesterday I had better pay attention to that lesson or I might just end up being someone else’s lesson.

Welcome Spring

The morning was wet and chilly as zipped out he door to work. I drove the van up to the train station today just because I could. The snow falling was light more obnoxious then seriously provoking. I could have driven the chair but I wanted to stay warm and dry. Even with the van factor built into this morning’s equation I was running late and I tried to build in some extra time but still was rushed to the point that I forgot several key items I really wanted to pack this morning: my train reading book aka my “training book”, my filler checks for my bankbook and most of all I left my CAMERA!! MY CAMERA. I never leave my camera. I drag that with me everywhere I go. You can never tell when the perfect image will present itself. Luckily , I did not forget my cell phone which does have a camera built in—though I rarely use it. This morning on the train I fought off “camera withdrawal” by taking clandestine images of fellow train passengers. I must now learn how to download the images to a useable hard drive to I can up load to my blog.

Our front desk woman is gone. She started her new position today up at the university. The front desk is empty. The pictures of family and friends, which used to cover the walls are gone. The plants are gone, drawers emptied and the whole room left in a mild disarray, an empty defiance that’s says, “once I was here and now I am gone!” It’s weird though, it’s like someone died at the office and no one id talking about the death. Actually, my partner and I have been talking about her and there is that kind of guilt associated with our discussion reserved for those who have died. Close huddled, hushed discussion, even though there is no one else in the office, about the girl’s less the illustrious work history while associated with our office. Her constant coming in late, office disappearances and three giant mistakeswhich should not have happened more then once. She was cruising, skating on thinner and thinner ice until she could find another position. I really think the reason she was still on staff was because the boss is a social worker by training and still sees her self as such and could not terminate this person regardless of the trauma which this person may have inflicted on her. If there are any words spoken they are words of relief and excitement at having launch a search for her replacement. Management hopes to interview applicants next week and hire by the end of the week and hopefully the new person can start immediately two weeks at the very least. So, life moved on as the rest of the staff came in this morning and went their various ways taking great care to avoid her office: Just an empty room where she used to sit.

It’s Saturday ad its raining and it has turned cold. The rain should turn to snow by evening and yet another winter storm. The storm is fast moving though and I bet any snow will have melted by Sunday evening—just as long as the snow is gone by Monday morning and work.

When my drive crashed a couple of weeks ago and I had to “nuke” they system I lost all of my connection which included by wireless network I have set up here at the house. So, when I finally got my reformatted system back I have had to repopulate the whole box. I have been struggling for a couple of weeks to get my lap top connected again. I asked folks for assistance but no one came. I had search my room and finally found the installation disks for my Belkin Wireless network. Since I finally realized no one was coming to help me install the network I took matters in my on hands. Actually, now I feel like boob because I waited for so long. The reconnection too all evening last night and this morning but I finally got the laptop to find the signal from the “mother ship”. I even waited on the phone to Belkin support but when no one came on line for thirty minutes I started in. I read the manual a couple of time after I could not figure the installation procedure from the install disk and just stared at the wires and the system and just pondered and then started guessing and connecting and unconnecting wires and finally I got the systems networking. Cool. I doubt if the networking is done right but it’s connected and I can access the NET and blogs from the laptop. I amaze myself. This will let Dianne and myself be online at the same time and not have to feel rushed.

One last thing. It was so weird. I suffered with my sore throat all evening and through the night. But this morning about 6:18( I looked at the clock) I swallowed and my throat did not hurt! I swallowed and no pain and yet another time and the pan was gone. There have been a couple of times later in the morning when I thought there might have been a hint of pain but nor pain really came and now I have been total pain free for hours. I did eat some hot peppers for lunch and I believe they squelched the last of the sorethroat. T’s a miracle. I am do a miracle every once in a while.

I hate sore throats.

My coworker brought her son to work for just a moment when she was called from work to pock the lad up. He had strip throat. That was Tuesday last night I started getting a twinge in the back of my throat, on the right side. Now I am having trouble swallowing. Typical. It’s Friday night and I am sick ad probably will be for the rest of the weekend. I left work at 10:00 for a healthy start on the weekend but by the time I got home I was calling my practioner to see if I could get in for a throat culture. No way today but maybe tomorrow. Actually I want to see how I feel then. The secretary sort of talked me out of going into night, because there was a night clinic slot available but she kept saying it cost more to see the night and weekend clinics. I should have booked a time because we have double coverage. I just don’t feel up going out. Maybe I will have a miracle by tomorrow morning.

I found out from the University I took the trp with a couple of weeks ago advanced me too much money and now looking like I am, going to have to pay back some cash. The email stated they wanted receipts for the $32.00 I submitted for tips, come on—who saves or get receipts for the damn tips. She thinks I am going to be owing about $50.00. However, I did find a couple more receipts this morning, or Dianne did, and I sent them off soon as I got to work. . This will reduce the total by some but not much. I just can’t win.

You may have noticed that the blog appears that I did not post yesterday. That’s wrong. I tried but last night the Blogger would not accept my post. Oh get this: then I tried to post from my office thinking the issue could be my machine and then I could not post there. Each time I tried I got sucked into some sort of State blocking system—guess too many statees are blogging from the office. You can still read people’s blogs though. Why is not that blocked? I bet people spend much more time reading then writing. Beside the state should love us blogging because the exercise hones our writing skills.

Today was Angela’s last day in the office, everyone was gone except me and C. Angela and the boss had friction to say the least. Angela is a tough snot—but she is nice to those she likes and she obviously liked me. I liked her but the boss did have some issues. Actually the bosses assistant have major issues with the girl too. When Ang announced her new position there was a collective sigh of relief from the front of the office. C is cautious because this mean that extra work load will be piled on her. In fact Monday or Tuesday C announced she was looking for work too. However today it sounded like she was going to stay. That’s smart girl. A job is a job. You have a regular check and benefits. Her jobs been posted two days now and they want to have interviews in three weeks. I predict an interesting summer.

ZZZZZzzzzzzzzz I have been fighting off sleep all afternoon. The boss is out for the rest of the week—it’s over caste out side. I have my heater cranked up with NPR going on and on and on in the back ground. I must have Eaten too much for lunch. The office had a photo exhibit opening earlier in the week serving cold sandwiches. The caterer left was left of the materials in our fridge. Three huge zip locks of tuna fish, egg salad and chicken salad spread. I went to the bakery over lunch and got a couple of rolls and came back and made a huge tuna sandwich. The sandwich was tasty but has pushed me over the edge of conscience. Now, that I have started writing I am beginning to emerge from the fog which has had me under.

I hate to see things wasted. However, I also must assert that I know myself well enough to know I am cheap. The amount of sandwich spread in these zip locks is huge. We could eat sandwiches for a long time. I often volunteer to clean out the fridge after a party, holiday meal or meeting when food has been left. The staff here will let the food in the cold box stand for at least one day for those who would like the leftovers for lunch. There are those staff who feel that any food left 24 hours is bad and must be thrown out. This could be anything from pita to pizza. I have lived on left-overs for a week at a time and done just well—especially left-overs I like. I love dried pizza, pizza left in the fridge. If we have pizza on Monday, at my house, I can take what’s left in for breakfast and lunch for the\ rest of the week—and be happy. So Cecilia has just stuffed the bags of spread into my wheelchair back. I thought what if I downloaded the mix into smaller units of zip locks and froze them. Then I could just bring out the spread when I wanted them. This could really work well.
Well I am still sleepy but more awake then I was twenty minutes ago. I am bout ready to climb back into my power chair for the ride home. In fact the whole office is bailing out. Cecilia , my office mate, just left, the whole front office is leaving. I am in the office tomorrow till 10:00 or 11:00 then I am gone for the weekend. It’s not that I have anything huge planned, in fact the weather indicates we have more storms (snow) coming in. It’s quiet now in the office I am fully awake and ready to go. I could actually get some work done if I had the drive but I am ready to go home. The building janitor crew has just attacked the front office. I have about ten minutes until the little Hispanic family lays siege to my office. But, I am going to stay on till 5:00 PM because that is who I am. Working or asleep you’ll find me here or at least…at the job.

ZZZzzzzzzz

ZZZZZzzzzzzzzz I have been fighting off sleep all afternoon. The boss is out for the rest of the week—it’s over caste out side. I have my heater cranked up with NPR going on and on and on in the back ground. I must have Eaten too much for lunch. The office had a photo exhibit opening earlier in the week serving cold sandwiches. The caterer left was left of the materials in our fridge. Three huge zip locks of tuna fish, egg salad and chicken salad spread. I went to the bakery over lunch and got a couple of rolls and came back and made a huge tuna sandwich. The sandwich was tasty but has pushed me over the edge of conscience. Now, that I have started writing I am beginning to emerge from the fog which has had me under.

I hate to see things wasted. However, I also must assert that I know myself well enough to know I am cheap. The amount of sandwich spread in these zip locks is huge. We could eat sandwiches for a long time. I often volunteer to clean out the fridge after a party, holiday meal or meeting when food has been left. The staff here will let the food in the cold box stand for at least one day for those who would like the leftovers for lunch. There are those staff who feel that any food left 24 hours is bad and must be thrown out. This could be anything from pita to pizza. I have lived on left-overs for a week at a time and done just well—especially left-overs I like. I love dried pizza, pizza left in the fridge. If we have pizza on Monday, at my house, I can take what’s left in for breakfast and lunch for the\ rest of the week—and be happy. So Cecilia has just stuffed the bags of spread into my wheelchair back. I thought what if I downloaded the mix into smaller units of zip locks and froze them. Then I could just bring out the spread when I wanted them. This could really work well.
Well I am still sleepy but more awake then I was twenty minutes ago. I am bout ready to climb back into my power chair for the ride home. In fact the whole office is bailing out. Cecilia , my office mate, just left, the whole front office is leaving. I am in the office tomorrow till 10:00 or 11:00 then I am gone for the weekend. It’s not that I have anything huge planned, in fact the weather indicates we have more storms (snow) coming in. It’s quiet now in the office I am fully awake and ready to go. I could actually get some work done if I had the drive but I am ready to go home. The building janitor crew has just attacked the front office. I have about ten minutes until the little Hispanic family lays siege to my office. But, I am going to stay on till 5:00 PM because that is who I am. Working or asleep you’ll find me here or at least…at the job.

INFO FAIR

SO goes another Information Fair. I am doing OK, I was getting pretty wasted at the office by mid after noon but driving over to the high school I must have gotten something of a second wind. I elected to "jet" the photo exhibition I just could not do it. I left work and went straight to the High School. I was one of the first to arrive.

Have the ingredients to our table display boiled down to one plastic milk crate. The milk cartonworks great. I can hook the hooks of one of my bungee cords for stability and take the stuff anywhere--and best of all in one trip.

So here is our table set up and ready to go. I admit the table is a bit Spartan. We do have the standard pencils and other trinkets needed to lure the natives over in an attempt to wow them with information and hopefully seduce them into utilizing our program. The host agency has taken to offering the vendors who show up to these info frenzies treats now. Tonight's bribe was the cute bamboo stalk in the low left hand of this image. There is a better image of this a couple of pix down. We also gave away, pen flashlights, refrigerator magnets and sticky pads all emblazed with out log and contact information.


This is a shot of a set of parents who have been trapped by the folks at the table next to us. This table was a company who did all the administrative junk in the management of a person with a disability who might not be able to or might not wish to manage their own lives. Interesting these guys would actually do all the paper work like payroll, holding out taxes, and other aspects of personnel which might be too challenging for some folks, yet be able to let those be 'the boss" in the hiring and firing of their support staff.

Colors attract all small animals and our pencils always suck em in. This was a cute little kid. She must have been 6 or 7 and was acting as the interpreter for the family she was with. She came up to the table a number of times before she asked if she could have a pencil. I have thought many times if a parents or a child was astute, they could acquire almost off of their school essentials at these information fairs held round the valley. There are four I know of giving away pencils, pens, sticky notes, rulers and all kinds of stuff. You would never have to buy pencils if you stocked up every time you went to a neighbor fair. Many of the tables are laden with literally piles and piles of candy. I did that too in another life now, I just use trinkets. It seems cleaner.

This chick was really cute--she DID have a shoulder bag and she was systematically filling with every kind of writing device she could pick up. Both of these kids did this funny little ritual of hovering, making contact then asking if it was OK if they could have what ever was on the table.



The night was Ok and a good source for comp hours to use to extricate me from the office early on Friday afternoon. I did not feel as good as I wished I might have. They passed out way too many cookies and pop. I wished for some sort of protein--Murray usually has Pizza now that works just fine. Maybe I'll make a suggestion for next year.

I am exhausted

I am exhausted and I still have hours to go. I have an Information Fair which will last till 8:00 pm this evening. The fair starts at 6:00 pm which means I have to actually get over to the high school well before to set up which means I have to leave before 5:00 pm. Then there is a photo exhibit( set up by Developmental Disability Council) which is to open at 4:00 pm and run till 7:00 PM. We(staff) have been asked to attend . I just do not know how I am going to pull all this off. I cannot see me loading and down loading my power chair into or out of my van anymore times then I have to. So, I am going to passively sit back here in my office till the rest of the staff leave for the library, where the open house is to be, then, I’ll quietly roll out to my van and over to the high school and set up the display and hang out for a couple of hours then go home and crash.

My office is so weird. The front desk person, Angie , got word yesterday, that she had been hired by another State office. Angie has been a bit of a trouble maker for the past year or so. In fact I am somewhat surprised that she has lasted on staff here. There is real tension between her and the Director, plus Ang has a bunch of disabilities affecting her attendance and performance. I don’t know what transferring to another work site will accomplish except put off the inevitable. Actually I think some of her disabilities are somewhat fatal and if the girl does not settle down maybe be dead in a couple of years. So, actually, she could “bounce” the State system until she has to leave the work life if she even gets that option.
Anyway she is gone as of the en of this week an I torn. I actually like Angie in a lot of ways. We have got along very well. But, because of her high incidence of missing work there has been a lot of stress placed on other personnel in the office who had had to cover for her. Normally that is not so bad I do not mind covering for my worm mates from time to time. But the girl did something last week which made me wonder. In short she left a magazine open to an article critical of the boss, where the boss could see it and the boss did see the article.! The magazine was left in the back conference room which is close to me and my partner’s office. It would be very easy to conclude that either I or she had left the article there for the boss to see. My partner was freaked and I was a bit nervous but I was not worried. What gave me pause that Ang should have taken that into consideration that someone other then her might have been harmed by her action. Obviously Ang did not care what happened to the rest of us.

So as guilty as I might feel I guess I will join the front office in celebration of Angie’s successful transition from this work site to her next. I hope she will me more loyal to that staff then she was to this…

The Cost of Doing Bu

The Cost of Doing Business

It’s done . My final communication with Cingular was his morning. I sent off my last two payments to Cingular , even though I actually only owed one. There was a clause in the fine print which said if I were to port my number over to a provider other then Cingular, I would have to pay the for the whole month of the billed month regardless of used time.

I was a bit surprised on Saturday when I got a bill in the mail from Cingular for two payments for my cellular service. I sort of expected the one bill for the month of January but was taken a back when I also had a bill for February when I had clearly started my new service with Verizon. I knew then that I was going to get the short end of this deal regardless-that is just the way that it is. I was actually going to pay the portion of the bill for February and quasi contest the remaining amount but not too day. I have been paying on line so I went on line accessed ATT Wireless which is now Cingular and could not find my account. This actually made some kind of sense to me since I had ported my number in February but it also raised the question: what if I was now lost in the huge Cingular system.

So, I made the call and after what seemed an eternity of listening to computerized voices, making selections and being warned that” you call might be monitored for quality control” in two languages I finally ended up with Darren. I mould not tell if Darren was in the United States or some Latin America country. Darren sounded close but that could be just good connections. It was Darren who explained to me the fine print of the contract—that long, multi-folded , front and back printed document which came tucked in with my cellular service, which I have never read nor intend to. If Darren says the clause voiding any hope of partial payment for the month of February is in this mass of words I assumed it is. Darren pulled my account right up and wondered through by life with Cingular and did praise me for always paying my statements on time. When Darren explained the problem and that I would indeed have to pay both months due to the fact that “it’s written in the contract” I thought I detected a little insolence; just an edge “I can do this to you just because I CAN do this too you and I don’t if I might be monitored for quality Control.” I even asked if I could finish off the payment one payment today and the other in to weeks. And Darren graciously said I could but I ended up paying on month on my debit card and the second on my credit card. Thus I am finished. Cingular was not bad work with, actually they treated pretty good except for the ending scene.

Bread Day

Another end of winter storm today and the snow fell all morning. It looked like tons of the white stuff. A perfect day to make good on the promise I made Dianne last night: I would make bread today—the image post is huge but gets the point across. I actually love baking bread I find the exercise entertaining, relaxing and even sexual in a tactile sort of way. I think I like the process especially. You see I use a mixer to make my bread. I think that’s cheating a little and I think the bread looses a little the more machinery one uses but I really don’t have a surface right now which lends itself to good bread making. I believe the best bread comes form bread with the hands. Think there is an exchange at the molecular level which influences the greatly enhances the flavor of the end product. Maybe it the gentleness of the hands on the dough or the sweat or hand oils transferring into the dough something happens with the direct touch versus the machine’s influence on the dough.

I made the bread today mainly for myself. I intend to have more toast in the morning then I have been. Toast from bakery bread is OK but just not the same. So I decided I would have some “real” bread round for toast this week. Actually toast is the only justification I can figure for homemade bread. When I was growing up my mother made bread every week. Six loaves of great tasting bread is great for toast but not so good for lunches. The product tends to crumble and disintegrate by the time its time for lunch. Thank goodness for peanut butter. This was the only substance which came close to holding my sandwiches together. Actually I must admit that homemade bread was a novelty at the school I went to. MY mom was the only mom who sent their kids tom school with bread from the home hearth. I could usually trade my sandwich for one made of wonder bread or Roman Meal or some other soft white wonder. You will see Dianne also got into the act. I was preparing the loaves for baking and she wanted to make one of the loaves a cinnamon raisin loaf. I figured that was cool since I probably could not eat two regular loaves of cracked wheat before the bread went bad. The loaves tuned out and I am pleased to have done something productive with my Sunday. I spent most of the day, again, stalling more software onto the system and transferring backed up files to various folders.

In the reformatting of Colossus, main system, I am really taking some time on how I am using my folders. Before I was fairly random and I had files everywhere on my drive. I am ordering this a lot better this go round and all ready I can tell a difference.

I did to out and get gas today. Dianne has misplaced the keys to the Audi and so she has been using the van. I knew we were getting low on gas and I should have filled it yesterday before the storm but oh no not me. By the time I got going out and about this afternoon the sun had come out and the snow was melting and actually quite nice. It was nice to get out and we are ready for Monday.

I have spent the day re-formatting my hard drive. This is the first I have ever done such a thing to this extent. Wow! I have to admit the system is acting so much better. I figure I have lost a few items but I’ll get by. I had the images pretty well backed up and I have placed them back in Dianne’s and my respective drives and everything is as it was except a much cleaner system. Now I just have to keep it that way. I still have to reinstall my wireless network—what a pain. I could do it now if I could just find the installation disk which came with the router. I can never find that kind of stuff once I have used it one. I really need to get organized. Oh yeah the printer and scanned have to be reinstalled but for the most part I am done. I back on the NET and have got my word processor working. I surprise myself.

Saturday night. Diannne is going over to Auni’s to hang out while Gabe and Bridget go out. I am staying home to work on the system, read and maybe watch a little tube. It’s a quiet night and I am OK. I am thinking of making bread tomorrow if I can get it all together.

It could be Worse

This image has nothing to do with today's post.


The local Fox affiliate is a hoot. The Fox network is so salacious the try to sex up everything and make what ever they rep[ort on bigger then it ever is. Like last night Fox begins reporting about how bad the next bunch of storms coming into this area in going to be. Driving snow and sinking temps is going to bring winter back for a while. Anyway the storm came in this morning, and luckily, the storm held off till after I got to work. Snow fell, actually there seemed to be a white out for a little while but soon the storm just sort of fizzled out. A little snow hit the pavement and streets but by noon the sun was out and what snow, which had fallen had melted. The clouds persist and I doubt the temps will rise into her 40’s but still it looks more like Spring the Winter out my window. I think the weather guys “jazz it up” cause that’s all they have.

You will also notice that I did get my camera figured out. I downloaded the images from the internal disk to the media card and down loaded. So everything is working fine again—I thought I might have to get another camera. Yeah, right, like I will be getting another camera. I won’t be getting anything for a long time. Dianne still is out of work so that means I am the only income earner in the house right now; things are getting lean, very lean. We have even considered selling our art reserve. I am also going to have to crack into my savings (401k) plan with the state, even if the penalties would be severe—if we can just keep going till Dianne’s disability comes through or that she is able to return to some sort of work activity. I think she eventually well, or I will the dream second job. Some thing is whole season of stress will be a dark memory on our life. I guess we could loose the house but life would go on right? I sure have got used to the house or the concept of living alone and in piece. I don’t know how I would fare returning to apartment living. I could do it but it would just be painful and very annoying. I truly hope we don’t have to do that. You know, When I think of how painful this experience might be for me I am reminded that I have to chair meeting tomorrow for my friend Phyllis. Phyl is great she is a real person, someone who believes in humanity and serving humanity. She is also a mental health professional and serves on this committee, I will be chairing tomorrow, as an advocate. Phyl really cares about her people. Phyllis is resigning from the board—she had breast cancer. She started her second round of Chemo last Monday and did not feel she could chair the board any longer and asked me to step in for tomorrow’s meeting and then apologized. Really loosing your house is nothing compared to losing your balls, or tits or life. Thanks Phyllis we love you, wish you the best…

I am still strugglin

These are images from the "dog cars" I posted them yesterday before I got them uprighted...sorry for the confusion.












I am still struggling with my digital camera. I have figured out that the internal memory chip in my camera is full. I thought the images were being written to my removable card, they were not leaving only a blank card. I had to participate on a panel discussion on feminism and disability. I was not sure what to expect but I was up for a reason to check out of the office for a while. The weather has turned cold and the clouds are dark and threatening so I brought the van into work today but there has been no precipitation to speak of. Even though the clouds looked menacing and the temps were cold I decided to train up to the University.

Today’s images are those from the train I used to ascend to the university.; These cars are the older cars UTA bought before the Olympics hit out State like a virus. The cars are really dogs but I can accept the vehicles much better after having been to Philadelphia. In Philadelphia the ramps used to bridge the space from the platform to the train were kept hanging in the tunnels of the subways. So when a person with a disability want to access the car the conductor had to actually exit the train walk over to the wall and pull the “bridge” off wall then walk back train lay piece down, load the person then return the bridge back to it’s place.

When we first got the “dog” cars some one at the shop at UTA , actually got the job of manufacturing the bridges used here during the Olympics. The bridges were OK but there were also a law suit waiting to happen. The bridges were unstable and I feel heavy for the operator to use. I felt it was just a matter of time until someone’s big chair would move the bridge at the wrong time and send them down the gap between the train and the platform. I noticed today, however, that the UTA had actually manufactured bridge-plates for the gap and they seem quite civilized and safe. No one is falling off these.

We spoke to five or six feminist graduate students who are also going to be counselors and who may see folks with disabilities of one sore or another. The session was laid back—of course—and fun. I also think the experience will lead to further opportunities to work with other neophyte healthcare professionals and train them how to better interact with consumers with disabilities.

Great my camera is not working!!

Great my camera is not down loading images I took this morning when getting ready for work—I had this great image of my repaired computer just in it proper place waiting to be hooked up- I do not know what has happened. The computer system here at work says it reads there are images on the disk but when I go to look at the image or move the image folds to the hard drive nothing happens but when I insert the chip back into the camera the images are there. I am so confused. I did drop the camera this morning on the carpet here at work but why should that make a difference? Oh well. I’ll figure it out.

More images from the trip--when my camera did work...

Found!

I am sorry the past couple of posts have been so confusing but with one computer in the shop and the other system lost I just have not been able to write regular and have been truing to recall bit and pieces of the trip—actually I wrote those posts Saturday morning before my desktop was taken the repair shop to be “nuked” and “reborn”. So we have been system free all weekend. No emails, no writing NO BLOGGING!!! The non-blog issues have been the worst for me to endure. But I survived. I spoke with my friend and computer tech Josh this morning, who told me that my system will be done this evening and I should be able to collect tonight after work. I still will have to install all the software I plan to run on the system. This will be a bit dicey since FOX is running 24 tonight two episodes.

Also, Sunday morning, yesterday we got a call from Portland DELTA calling to tell us they had found our laptop! This, of course, is great. I was actually having Dianne save me the tech advertisements from the newspaper yesterday. We were just about ready to call son, who handles our home owners insurance to start the process of turning in a claim. I started a folder of computer advertisements to start my new quest for a laptop. I had formulated a plan. I was going to get an inexpensive system fast enough to run anything on the web I might need, a burner would be nice but not necessary since I have one on the desktop enough memory to edit my film attempts but basically I could link up to the Net via the router on the “big” system. But now this is all moot with Portland call…we must have left the laptop in the over head storage, during the trauma of my wheelchair and the over all stress of the evening coming home. We had the caller make contact with UPS who has an over night delivery for $40.00 and hopefully we will be up and running by Tuesday. There is till the issue of “Why did the desktop loose it’s connection with the InterneT?” The lost connection worries me a little but not much—what worries me more is reinstalling all the software on the machine especially my Word software, backed up as much as I could with the technology I had available. I will be OK.

More images from Philly…

More

The stewardess  was getting very antsy, arms crosses and pacing back and forth in front of the cock pit.  Finally the pilot came back and gave me the bad news. About the same time as the grim faced jet driver got to me m to me, I noticed the ground crew had just brought my power chair up…in pieces. The captain then informed me that my chair  was dead. It was at this point I had to get involved. The chair looked tipsy that is true but I doubted the chair was dead.  I had them bring the dorky, super-wide airport chair up and had them  throw me into the chair and I went to investigate them problem.  

The chair pieces was stacked on top of itself like a bad sculpture. I could see cord, important cords were un plugged. So I began to supervise the “rebuild”  By this some airport hotshot had gotten involved. He was Ok he took my direction very well. Soon the connections were made and the chair lit up. But the chair would not engage—no forward motion.  I hat the guys check the clutches and sure enough they were not engaged and when they were I was powered but the seat of the chair was not engaged.  Securing the seat meant that I was, once again, manually lifted out the chair and the seat pulled off the power chair and reset back on and secured with pins.  This took another 40 minutes but eventually was completed and I was off. Then I could not find Dianne who had left to find get the van from Long Term, parking. It was another hour before I found my wife or my wife found be with the help of the white courtesy phone. It was 11:30 PM before we finally got home. But, we had survived the trip and even had a great time.

I am exhausted and

I am exhausted and I am back from my trip to Philadelphia! The trip over all was successful—Dianne and I had a great time despite many obstacles we faced, and over come. I‘ll get into these as the days go on I believe—I’ll also post some images. The last story shall be first though and that was last night.

When we finally we got into Salt lake we had been through heavy weather and dense clouds. The lights on the wing of the plane would cause a lightning effect seen through the window of the fuselage. We must have been flying through clouds; each time the light on the wing would light, the light would be muffled by the cloud and cause a “whiting” for a second or two. Very interesting. The turbulence was great also and bounced us all over sky. The video screens which hung down in front of our seat gave us minute to minute progress of our flight over simulated maps of the United States. As we began our decent into Salt Lake the engine roar greatly increased as did some bouncing. About three minutes before the video screens were lifted back into the aircraft the time to landing read “three minutes” and did this for five or ten minutes. Dianne mentioned that “we’re circling” I said “ Yeah, they must be burning fuel in case we go down.” We both chuckled, in fact there was a lot of nervous laughing heard round our seating area. Not because of me or what I had said just people getting by with a difficult portion of their lives. Like finding out you need a root canal. I felt pretty relaxed but Dianne next to me was stressed. I do have to admit that more then once I wondered if this is what people die in air craft tragedies hear and feel right before their world explodes or their air bus is driven into the side of a mountain or sky scraper. We landed without any real incident. The time was 8:30 pm just on the dot. “ Great I’ll be home before 10:00”

The pilot had asked the travelers who were not connecting with other flights to please remain seated so those who were sprint out of the aircraft and possibly connect since the poor weather which kept us from landing, most likely kept the connecting flight on the ground. This lasted about five tenths of a second and the aisle was stuffed with folks “everyman for them selfing” their way out of the aircraft. Soon I was alone with two other poor to non walkers. Dianne figured the air people were busy getting my power chair out of the aircraft and she might be most effective getting the luggage and retrieving the van from the “Long Term Parking” lot. Then they left and I was left by myself. From where I was sitting I could see the front of the aircraft clearly. There was a lot of discussing going on as the Stewardess, with arms folded across her breasts kept stepping back into the aisle they were all talking about me. I could tell. Some one or someone had died I could tell…to be continued