Like Porn for Kids

Its Halloween and as I watch the sun head toward the evening horizon I can just sense the millions of little kids out “there” chaffing at the bit waiting until that time hen their parents will release them to canvas the neighborhood for the best candy. It looks to be a beautiful evening for trick or treating and the temps will facilitate the event as well as I am sure the temperatures will be in the fifties or so.

Clear and warm who could ask for a better evening to go out?

I am alone at the office this afternoon, the mom’s took the day off to work with their kids to make sure they have a great Halloween and the boss is on vacation. But Vicky just left and we were talking about how in “our” day Halloween was always cold and miserable. That is how I remember the event. We lived on a small farm in South East Boise. We were one of number of small acreages in that area. My point being: in order to get enough candy one could not trick or treat on the farm neighborhood. There were just too few houses to hit. My older brother, who I was sentenced, to go with would put the pressure on the adults to drag us into the city or at least subdivisions which were beginning to crop up in the community in the late fifties and early sixties. ]

I don’t think I really ever like Halloween. I have no fond me memories of this quasi –holiday. What I remember is stupid cloth bunny or ghost costumes with eye holes which seldom lined up with my eyes, if there was a mouth to the costume it was the only orifice even close to a breathing hole. I was the smallest kid in the group for a long while. The goal of the evening was to get to as many doors as possible which meant running from door to door. The big kids had long legs to my short legs and a floppy costume and it seemed I was falling down all over. I was also, slowly becoming blind as my mask shifted and I no longer could see out of the eye holes in the mask. And the night of Halloween, as I remember, was always cold, deathly sometimes it seemed to me. The mouth of the mask had long become drenched with spit as I mouth breathed in the mask, the freezing soon had the wet area of the mask around the mouth frozen! This was disgusting. I was soon falling behind and getting yelled at by the big kids to keep up, the more I ran to keep up the more I stumbled and fell. Each new door to knock first had to be reached by climbing up a host of stairs. By the time our parents or whose ever responsibility was to pick us up I was exhausted, frozen and sore. I usually had just about half the take my brother had and I usually those weird treats like, apples, nickels or the dreaded popcorn ball with out any kind of a wrapper which would stick to everything in the pillow case.

Now a days probably thanks to global warming the season is almost spring like plus costumes which are light weight and built for comfort and individually wrapped candies. It’s almost illegal to give out home made stuff anymore.

Still Halloween is hard to justify anyway one looks at it. Its sort of like porno for kids.

Juice

Its 0828(in the morning)(obviously) and I am sitting at my desk top plugged into my charger hoping to squeeze enough juice in to my batteries to get up to the Salt Palace and UEA for another day and get back to charge a little more for my PT today. I just hate living this close to the edge. What I might also do is drag the charger up with me to the convention and charge while I sit at the information table, tacky as this might appear it would certainly allow to juice up to the maximum.
I checked on the charge twice last night before I went to bed to see the battery was charging. The green light was blinking and I assumed hat charging was occurring. But to my horror this morning when I went into the bedroom I saw the red and green lights of death. I pulled out the charging plug and sure enough I had but one green light on my power stack. In the best case scenario I would have a steady green light indicating that a full charge had indeed occurred. I have been kind of worried about today all week. Because even starting out in the morning with a full charge I know I Will need some charger time after I get to work to be sure to have the power I will need to train up to the university and through the hospital complex to physical therapy and more importantly have the juice for the long trip home: back through the hospital and then from the train station back home. In the past I have thought trying to figure out a way to strap my charger on to my wheelchair somehow and take the whole unit with me. This is what I did this morning when I took off. I had Marianne coil up the cords and we ended up sticking the charger under my foot and I drove over to the conference set up my booth and charged the entire time I sat at the table. I probably had enough power I just wanted to be sure.
I have been back from the conference for a little over an hour and I have been charging most of that time. I was hoping I could have charged for another hour be fore leaving leaving for the university.
I am home now. I made it and I would write more but my lap top is acting up so I am going to post what I have.

UEA

I just got back from UEA, where I am sitting at a booth. UEA is the Utah Education Association—sort of like the Utah teacher’s union. This used to be one of the biggest , well attended conferences in Utah. The vendor hall was enormous with over 1000vendors hawking their wares. The Vendor hall is a veritable carnival. Any one who has anything to sell in the area of education is there. Publishers of text books, teaching machines, teaching and general school supplies. Plus there is every weird idea and inventor can come up with in the area of teaching. A guy sitting right across the table from me was selling some kind of system to make your kids authors and there’s insurance sale guy, US ARMY Recruiters, even food dehydration and a complete paper vending book store is there. Teachers are supposed to attend, but I have noticed ever dwindling numbers of educators the last couple of years. Many teachers who do attend end up bringing their kids so there are hundreds if not thousands of kids running wild.

One of the cool things about the UEA conference the vendors usually are giving away everything from gobs of candy to all kinds of trinkets. Lots of pencils. Rubber balls, pens, slinkys, coffee cups, games and software. But really tons and tons of candy. In Salt Lake UEA is the pre-Halloween event.

Sadly the event is dieing. Used to be all of Utah’s schools were closed or this event. It must have been a wonderful holiday for kids. No longer the case. One school district I heard of down South of here is actually in class today and tomorrow. If you are a vendor the price of a table is way over priced. I was able to attend this event because someone is willing to let us share a table wit them for some sweat labor. I manned the table two hours today and two tomorrow. I agreed to do this before I found out the host table would not allow me to set some of my brochures out on the table. Tomorrow I’ll be at the convention from 9:00 to about noon and then back to the office to recharge my charge for a coupler of hours before I head up to therapy. When I asked about the allowing us to display our brochures they sounded freaked out and had to do that thing “we’ll have to get back to you. They must have felt guilty because they offered us a free table for their conference in March. We figured the trade as worth it. I took a second once I got squared away way and zoomed round the hall and found a table who would let us set up our brochures.

We have Aunakah over UEA, with both of her parents working watching the granddaughter seemed only natural. We had her most of the weekend as well. Sometimes it’s spooky at how natural watching the granddaughter is.

Punch

Last evening I moved the three-hole punch into my office and this morning I pirated the rotary paper cutter. I sort of encouraged the Council to invest in this device a couple of years ago. We have a typical lever paper cutter and scissors lying all over the place. I have never been able to get the standard paper cutter to evenly cut multiple pages and quadriplegia and scissors just don’t mix.

As I carted the cutter into my office, Marianne noted she has never seen any other staff use this device except me and she even suggested that I keep the cutter in my area since I am the one who uses it. I pretty much had the same conversation last night regarding the three-hole punch—‘keep it since you use it most’. OK, I will.

I am slowly turning the work station left when Dawn left last month into my work area. I am still getting used to having this much space. It’s great! Already, I sense the entropy is subsiding and the extra surface I have allows me to keep some sort of order over my general work area. The office renovation nears completion, the last two rooms: Marianne’s office and the ‘work room’ and we’ll will start moving items back into the rooms today and tomorrow so I have to start harvesting items I’ll need to make my work area complete in the next twenty-four hours. I figure I need to find an electric stapler and electric pencil sharpener but I tend to use mechanical pencils more these days then not. I still have to lay claim to my old file cabinet stored across the hall in the vacant office over there. I plan to be throwing way a lot of junk I have accumulated but I be getting back a lot of my resource materials and other items needed to make an office a home.

I spoke with my Michelle yesterday and she has ‘scoped’ the fetus and we have a new girl to add to the family. I will add an image of little Riley or whomever when I can access Shelly’s MySpace account—I cannot not from my office—you know the old State. So that’s everyone except Old Brooks…the pressure’s on.

Conversion

Back in the late 80’s when my middle marriage failed due to bad cocaine deals (are there any “good” cocaine deal, really ?), jail time and spousal sexual re-orientation. I found my self without a vehicle when aforementioned spouse skipped bail taking her vehicle and MY hand controls with her. I was left living in an apartment complex 40 some S.L. blocks from where I worked in the South East section of town.

A few posts ago I posted an image of me in one of the early salt Lake bus strikes. I had not really paid much attention to the rhetoric which surrounded a lot of the accessible discussions at the time but one item remained in my mind was a statement made by the authority the authority, bus driver could or would not prohibit someone from getting on the bus. Anyway no long after the bus strikes we got three accessible bus routes in this city. Three routes with every bus accessible seemed like heaven at the time. The routes were State street, truly the main drag of the city and nearly ran the length of Salt Lake County, then there was 5^th East which served a good part of the East side particularly a small wheelchair accessible apartment complex of about six units which was being used as a transitional living center, helping people adapt to living accessible lives from a wheelchair. The third accessible route was 3^rd Avenue , a route which wanders the North East end of Salt Lake, the old well established neighborhoods. A few years later Routes 39 and 40were put in service when the next order of accessible buses were purchased: two routes which traverse East and West one route turning into the next at the end of the line. Luckily I happened to live a half a block from one of the new routes. All I had to do was push up a small hill and wait.

Even though some of the uses were now accessible, and the drivers were trained on these specific routes many of the drivers refused to use the lifts many drivers would say, when the came to a stop in front of wheelchair using consumer “my lifts not working” shut the doors and drive away living the consumer looking stupid. One such warm spring day I was waiting for the bus, which finally came and the driver was not going tom use the lift. I remember what the Authority said if you can get on the bus you can ride the bus. So I said great took a deep breath took off my foot pedals and thru them onto the bus and crawled on board and sat on the floor all the ay to State street for my ‘in bound’ ride. Word got out that I had done this and my crawl-ons became a protest and a few days later this above image was taken at such a strike; resulting in a major “re-training” of UTA drivers of how to operate the wheelchair lifts but more important for the first time ever I took ownership of my transit authority . “If you can get on our buses you can ride” I took ‘em at face value. It took me 10-15 minutes of sheer well and struggle to crawl onto the buses. If those drivers thought cycling the lift was going to make them late for their end of the line bathroom break just feel the time drag as I crawl on. BUT, I was able to get too work! I no longer cared or was dependent on my old car—didn’t matter if the old lady took my car…I just wish she had left my hand controls.

Three Guy on a Mat

I have been doing this PT thing for two months now. Dianne and I were talking last night and I should be getting to the end of my covered sessions. Friday I said good bye to Matt the graduate student, who has been doing my therapy for a lot of my PT sessions. I cannot imagine being worked by anyone else. Matt was /is a but naïve but I suspect will grow out of this as he gains his professional legs. I do not know how much hands on physical therapy stuff he will do as opposed research and education. So now I am back to Randy, too cool randy, Randy seems passive but highly effective. Randy reminds me of Cane from Kung Fu, a great TV series of last century. Randy is slight but powerful, quiet but when he does speak everyone seems to listen.

I am not sure but I think I am on thin ice with old ‘Cane’. I think I wear the lad out. I feel he thinks I am a cartoon and maybe I am to a certain extent, I know this. Randy works me hard though and I appreciate his efforts. Either way, I am a short timer now—a on time Randy indicate that if I needed further physical therapy he could write something up which would some how open another small flood gate at my insurance provider and I get some sort of extension for more sessions. Even with any extensions my time is short at Rehab but I will need to be moving on. Dianne and I are beginning to discuss what we can do to be sure the efforts made the past two months are not lost. The first thought I have is turning the grand kid room into some sort of ‘mat room’. We can take out the bed in the room and replace the bed with a raised platform with a mat where I can do my physical work outs and still have a place to stick company. I still wish to get some equipment which will assist me maintain or build muscle and then actively do it: work out on a daily bases. JUST DO IT!!

Back In

I am back in my office with new painted walls and carpeted floors and most of my stuff has been moved back. There are a few items left to be done like empting one of my old file cabinets in to newer cabinets, adding a top on one of my work counters which was left when I moved one of my big cabinets to the other office. One of the major changes I am going to be enjoying is loosing the person who used to share this room with me. Not the actual person but the FTE/or part timer which use to sit at the other work station. That person will now be housed next door to this office laving me the WHOLE office. I have elected to keep the workspace so I will have space to “spread out” when I have projects. Marrianne is working really hard to organize me to get the most of my new space. I am trying to comply but asking me to be organized and neat is a huge order. In fact the space is already beginning to show signs of entropy. But right now two State guys are working to hang some shelving and the work top and its pretty noisy.

I am kinda trapped though. Right now, I am plugged into the battery charger I keep at my work station to charge my batteries to ensure I will have the power I will need to get to my next destination. There is something going on with my power chair. I am finding if I do any on usual rolling during the day I may be in jeopardy of seriously not having enough power to get home. I am afraid I may need new batteries. I think it has been over a year since I got the set I am currently( no pun intended) using. I ranged at lunch to the bank and to get something to eat so I am plugged in and charging until 3:00 when I am going to drive my chair up to University Hospital for my Friday P.T.

Moving Back In

I can sense I am going to be heading into another hear activity period here at the office, meaning things are going to get busy. I got an email bomb or nuke from my boss wanting an accounting of my time, specifically what has happened since the middle of the Summer when she initial sent me the email wanting me to a lot of information about my efforts at the office. Talk about terror—now I am going to be playing catch-up for the rest of the month if not the calendar year. I guess this also means that I am going to be making shorter posts. I am trying t figure out how to prepare MP3 sound files from sound files I record from my digital camera.

My walls are painted and I am supposed to start the move back process in my office today. Pedro showed up just by himself today, so he and Marrianne are trying to rehang all the desk tops and other items which attach on to the walls. The process has been on going all morning and now as the afternoon progresses I hear cursing in two languages and the thunder electric drills mercelessly stripping screws as the two hand my furniture. I really was hoping to start the transition back into the office this afternoon no I don't know.

Last week I was visiting with an old friend actually the old friend was Lori Brock and she was interviewing me about my history with the direct confrontation group in Salt Lake ADAPT American Disabled for Accessible Public Transportation). In those days ( 20 years ago) accessible public transportation was something devoutly to be wished . I was working for the local independent living center who actually sponsored the local ADAPT group. In fact I was the Transportation Coordinator. I made it my business to in the front of anything about public transportation. I cannot say I was the leader of the charge for accessible public transportation but I can say in front ranks.

Truth is: I was never really comfortable with civil disobedience, non-violent confrontation (NVC). I can do NVC and I think I can do NVC well , but confrontation just does not come naturally to me. As I spoke with Lori and relived these tense moments in my mind I released that what I was doing, and maybe what civil demonstration is just Guerrilla Theater.

Lori and I later developed an acting company, again with the independent living center and I stuck with the company for a number of years even writing some and performing in an assortment of plays. These plays were tame but kinda of on the cutting edge of Crip Theater. I enjoyed my association to the program but for me this was just a program. I even got comp time for my after work time with this acting company. I honestly don’t know if I would have been as involved with the acting company as I was if I were not being paid for it. I thought of this as I visited wit Lori and I came to a realization that I probably would not have been at the “strike site” if it were not my job to be there. I have always believed in public transit—but this was a belief that people in wheelchair had a basic right to ride any and all forms of public transportation. At the same time I have always kept and maintained my own private transportation. My agitating on the strike-line was work at the end of the day I could just roll up to my beater hope inside and cruise home. I believe in public transportation but I do not have the fire in my belly like Rick, Barbara or Terry did. There was a time when I was totally without personal transportation due to divorce and poor choices. This time maws a dark period in my life. Luckily I just happen to live a half a block away from one of the first wheelchair accessible corridors in Salt Lake County. I was able to bus to work and home each day. The system worked for me and I used this system for about 14 months, I loved it. Luckily during that time there were no real interruptions in service. I wonder, now, if there had been would I have got the fire in my belly and chained my self to a bus because I needed THAT bus and not because it was my job?

Autumn Leaves

I took a fast lunch today since there was a Staff meeting at 0ne o clock and Marrianne was waiting or a phone call. I needed to the bank and the post office. Today is one of those splendid pristine Fall days, cool but no need for a coat in the noon day sun, ma slight breeze and the leaves are turning and falling, just like the season. There is a row of trees in front of the parking lot to the post office the trees are in color and have decided that today is the day the will drop their foliage.

These trees were busy acting like they wanted to get the job done in one day. I used to think trees defoliated themselves over a long period of time but I once watched a catalpa one Fall morning drop all of it’s leave in less then an hour. I would never have believed that trees did this but they do. I wanted to get a movie of the leaves dropping—even more aggressively dropping when a wind would churn up and knock the leaves off in hand fulls but I had my camera pointed into the sun and really could not get a good enough image. I would try again tomorrow but I am afraid the leaves will all be spent by then.
The carpeters were in this morning and have ripped the carpet from my room and have laid the new carpet down and now I am waiting for Pedro and the painters to return and paint my walls, two coats in a day and a half and then who ever must return to re-hang my work surfaces and cabinets. I may be back in my officer by Thursday or Friday. My phone has been uncommonly quiet for a Monday which makes me think I am some ho not getting my calls since I am technically at a different extension. If I am fortunate I can see my phone display light up when I may have call coming in and get the call now, I snag what calls I can.

JUST The Soup

Yesterday I had lunch with my daughter Bridget and event which has been at least a week in the making, actually longer be we have been really trying this last week. Between the move at my office and the meeting I have got sucked into and Bridget’s meetings which have run long or what ever we just have not been able to get together. The weekday, downtown lunch would be great since we are down there and having lunch with a daughter would be/ is a great break in the day. But not this week; We decided to schedule some time together Saturday, yesterday.

When Bridget first came into my life she was a vibrant pre-teen, part of a package deal; ripped from the deep south to be relocated in Utah the girl did pretty good. She was pretty cynical with life by the time we met and I think I identified that in her and we bonded immediately. My cynicism and Bridget’s could get pretty thick so we dealt with each other in small amounts. Our bond was always there shaky, at times, but enduring. We, the congregate fam ( those living all the same roof which was Bridget and Brooks Dianne and me) went to the tabernacle broadcast each Sunday for a couple of year soon after we were married. The Tabernacle is a covert LDS missionary device. A radio broadcast of the famous LDS Tabernacle choir, in the historic Tabernacle on Temple Square where “everything is free!!”. So every Sunday we were up early and went down to the Tab for the broadcast and after we would go out for breakfast. One of our favorite places was/is Market Street Grill. One of Salt Lake’s established “up scale” restaurants molded in the turn of the century vain inhabiting the first floor of the historic New York building. Young scrubbed faced staff, crusty bread and fresh fish flown in from the coast every morning—one of the few restaurants in SLC where they grind their own coffee for every pot.

The thing with an upscale restaurant is that one has to remain tough and committed to ordering the cheapest thing on the menu or not on the menu, no matter what the help is committed to “Up sale” you with. The Market

Street makes an excellent clam chowder and the chowder is fairly inexpensive compared to the rest of the menu Krystle, our waiter, of course tried to up sale us on the soup and salad combo but Bridget and I stuck to our guns and stuck with JUST the soup. There is no selection of the menu of just soup nd we had to specify just the clam chowder. Krystle appeared crestfallen but also relieved. She obviously have been instructed to ask the customer once and only once if they wanted the larger order. Sense we had so insistently “just the soup” she was off the hook. We have learned the soup is inexpensive the coffee sorta and coffee and soup—the bread of course is free.

We drank our coffees, gorged on the incredible hard crusted French loaves and sipped our soup and talked. It was “game day” for University of Utah and all the fat old alums were crowding the joint. I didn’t know it was a game day but all the better for all the old couples gave us a rich pallet to paint the stories about each couple we watched through out the course of our meal. We stretched our meager meal out over an hour enjoying the company, the ambience and people watching on a stormy afternoon.

Move

The trauma of the actual move has begun. I have spent all day throwing stuff away and moving into the room next to office which has been carpeted and painted. I am set up on two folding tables but I am connected and I have a working phone but not my phone so I just have t keep an eye one on the incoming lights and when I see my old extension light up then I’ll be able to pick up. Marrianne has been the real storm trooper in the process forcing me to throw-a-way things I have been holding onto for years—I was pretty passive aggrieve during the whole thing but it was entertaining—my phones were disconnected for hours and all I could do was step and fetch for Marrianne. Hopefully, Pedro and his Painters will be in tomorrow and will get my office done by tomorrow night, the space can cure over the weekend and I can start moving back in Monday or maybe later. There is some question of moisture in the current carpet from my window on the West. If I fact this is the case then State will have to come in and repair where the moisture is seeping in from—I kind of think the moisture is coming from the bushes on the outside of my windows when the bushes are sprinkled during the summer. So who know how long I am going to be camped out in this office.

Tree in Wind

I love this tree. I don't if you can make out how the wind was blowing this tree, last week, before the storms came but the wind was and I was fascinated. You can see the leaves still dress the branches but as the Autumn progress and the Winter there after the branches will show them selves--this is a great tree. I'll tke another image later in the and another later in the Winter

I catch the train, most of the time, a half a block North of my office at the

Arena which used to be the Delta Center, home of the Utah Jazz, the States professional basket ball team. Like many white elephants an arena this size only pays for itself if the site can be used by other events, big events often through out the year. Last week was the circus, the week before that huge Mountain Dew motocross and skateboard event was hosted and this week some major international sales event/convention is taking place. This event looks to be attended by mostly Asians. I have seen a few Anglos, who looked to be significant others of an Asian attending the conference. I caught myself nodding to a couple of folks I happened to meet on the way up to the train station an they smiled and actually bowed to me and they bowed almost u unconsciously. Cool! So I tried the bow again on the next cluster of folks I met an many of them bowed again. Some seemed to return the bow without thinking and others were clearly surprised that I would show such courtesy and happily returned the nicety I think they felt they were off the “bow hook” until they returned home..

Note: my office is that square brick building in the upper right quadrant of the image.

New Shoes Again

New Shoes, again. Dianne has been on my case for the past couple of months, since my black slip-ons will not stay on my feet to get some new shoes. I drag my feet getting new shoes no pun intended for a number or reasons outlined in earlier posts on this blog (see November 14, 2005). The problem is mainly my fat feet, my weird little toe and my high arches. In a fit of desperation Dianne ordered a pair of shoes off of the INTERNET. She mentioned she as going to do this and I told her not to because I knew anything ordered off the INTERNET especially shoes would only end up being sent back, when the shoes arrived and would not fit. So I was totally surprised when I got home last night and there were a pair of black shoes sitting on the table. I was surprised- even if they look dumb. The shoes have the senior strap that lets you secure the shoe to your foot with out having to deal with those pesky laces. I thought Dianne had been to the D.I. and got lucky so I was doubly surprised when Dianne informed me the shoes were new and had been ordered from the Net. What astounded me most was the shoes actually fit! Now I have the difficult task of transitioning do the new shoes.

At fifty-six I guess I have accepted Velcro strap closure as a fact of life. I detest the look but I understand why they are used. The straps are quick and simple for people who have too tie up your shoes when you cannot.

I can tell already these shoe are going to be a challenge for me to use. I can just barely do up the right shoe. I think it took me twenty minutes or longer putting on my shoes and socks this morning and I really did not fasten the shoes as well as I would have liked but this will pass. I am sure I’ll trim the time and soon be out the door at my regular time. I may have to figure out a way to work the fastener better and quicker but I have “old guy” shoes for sure now. Next think I know I will in blue jump suits with a belt.

The chaos of the office make over continues. The carpet is down in the main areas, just a couple of offices and the work room remains—the vapors have dissipated enough to be bearable for me but I know other staff are having issues. It sounds the painting will begin next week. I don’t know if offices will be useable by then. The phone guy was here this morning and reluctantly moved a couple of phones so staff have access to communication in the back. I cannot see us, as a office, really functional for another two weeks at least with the work which still has to be done. Paint drying and the last of the carpet lying and the speed of the contractors and the main boss being gone I just cannot see us getting back to normal before Thanksgiving.

Trapped

I am trapped in my office! The carpet guys are out in the reception area putting down the carpet. I am floating due to the carpet glue. I am also probably being exposed to high levers of carcinogens but perhaps what is most immediately most important is I am blocked from leaving my office which means no bathroom. And wouldn’t you know I had soup and a beverage for lunch!

I Hate Remodeling

I am in the middle of boxing my office as if for a move. I hate this kind of stuff! Chaos everywhere, resource material scooped up and sealed to a time when new carpet will be installed and the walls painted. Compared to some of the others in this office I don’t have a lot of stuff, the biggest of which are a couple of file cabinets and my Herman Miller stuff. The Herman Miller is hung from the walls and I think will be very labor intensive, removing the actual structures then removing the brackets and other hardware and what ever is needed to be done to paint the walls, rip the carpet then apply the new carpet and finally all the shelves, wall hanging works surfaces and file cases. I don’t even know if the worker guys are even getting to my office this week but we got the orders.

Since my job is 90 percent phone work I will be pulling the computers plug only when I see Juan and the others moving on my office. Once my system is gone I am basically sitting on my thumbs till the whole thing is complete. I guess I could schedule appointments, in-service trainings and what ever to do out of the office but it’s hard to do that without phone support. And that will be gone too.

The front office is now all packed and boxed and has been moved into our huge board room where everything, pretty much is being kept until the painting and carpeting is completer; Actually we have the empty office across the halls where we are also storing stuff as well. The office now has the “empty quality” where I hear echoes when I talk or listen to other conversations round the office. The space is very much like when we first moved in here five or six years ago. In fact, strange as it is I almost feel like if there was a place to move and the office could, this would be a great time to move. Staff was talking about new building the State was planning to build in the next couple of years; huge office building, cubicle plants. I hate cubical offices bhu6 I am beginning the rest of my office would love nothing better then to blended into a huge State office Cubicle office forest. I think the soonest that such blending might take place would be three to five years and maybe by that time I would be somewhere else. I think if I found our tomorrow that this office was moving to the department of social services building, or department of workforce services or ever Department of Education or USOR then I might have to look at early retirement. I mean there was even talk about one of the new offices going up at the State Capitol complex and maybe we could find a spot there when they’re finished. I am not saying I would not move but the space would have to be pretty spectacular for me to do so.