OCD KENDO

When I was younger and still able bodied I was very much into the martial arts however, I never was able to get any professional instruction. There were not the Dojos round in the 60’s there are now, just wacky instruction manuals advertised in the back of comic books which was the basis of great ridicule if ever found in your passion. I think I would have eventually grown out of martial arts entirely if I had not had my disability or maybe I would have gotten my black belt. My son, Mark A., did and I guess I somewhat vicariously lived and experienced the whole blackbelt thing through his experience. So I do, have an appreciation for the martial arts. But I have to admit I really donot understand kendo. At the Japanese festival I went to last Saturday there were a number of kendo schools who had their student give presentations. I could not believe how slow this martial art is and almost how comical. I swear I thought these guys were obsessive compulsive, jumping round, screaming really weird and hitting each other over the head with their wooden sticks. Their actions were almost comical in fact much of the audience was confused as to laugh or not to laugh at the antics of the helmeted warriors. I promise this is the last video I am going to post of the Japanese Festival.

Old Ladies Rule

Old ladies rule country probably this world dos not matter—be they anglo, Indian, asian, white, hair, jet-black or blue hair or bald and wigged. My mom runs the show where ever she is at and regardless of who thinks they are incharge of the vent what ever the event. You can try to move these folks along as fast as you can but whoa be unto you if they do not want o be moved.

This was most evident with the second act at this weekend’s Japanese Festival. This was the most venerable Bernice and her Japanese child dancers. Dianne and I were sitting to the left of the stage right next to the master of ceremonies(announcer), the guy who was trying to keep the whole events schedule on schedule. These program had given Bernice 10 minutes t have her kids do their musical numbers about three. True to form Bernice began changing the whole format of her act. She figured she did not have enough kids, or maybe more kids in kimonos just appeared but she immediately incorporated them into her act…When Bernice had finished her first three songs, she felt this was not enough, especially after she her the applause. The announcer thanked her and her kids for their musical renditions and as he began introducing the act Bernice and company launch into another song, to my delight. It was only after the third attempt to clear the stage the Management finally confront this darling Asian senior and her dancing kids. Bernice was not happy as she left the stage.

Ah So

We did the Japanese festival yesterday. Just Dianne and I, the whole day it was a blast. We had to wait the whole day for the drum concert. It was well worth the wait. Enjoy.

Service Hell

I work in a small but proud information and referral center, we are one and half people and we are always struggling but we get by. We are not service providers in the sense that we have clients that we provide service to. Our motto is “one call that’s all!”. We hopefully give the caller what they need to know, tell them where to go and then dispatch them. A couple of weeks ago we took a call from someone who literally had cases of adult sized diapers they wanted to get rid of. The caller did not want to list the diaper on our web site and the caller could not find anyone else who would take them. I told them we would take them—I would store them under my desk if I had to rather then loose the diapers. BECAUSE I knew that sooner or later we would get “the call”. Well, today was that day. This morning we got a call from Russ in a city 40 miles to the north of me and he was down to his last diaper and he needed some more. Russ had been referred to our Center by his local 211 operator. I don’t know if Russ knows who we are or what we do but he wanted me to drop these off at his home. I told him there was no way that me bringing the diapers to his home was going to happen but I would see what to ship them up in the next couple of days. TT took the call and somehow the call got handed over to me.

Since we are housed and work in the Capitol city of this State many folks from up North travel to Salt Lake everyday. I was hoping I would get lucky(or rather that Russ would get lucky) and we could find someone traveling North and throw a couple of cases in their trunk and drop the diaper off as they pass the city. I sent out a couple of emails and made a couple of calls but none of the folks I make the trip had come to the city today. I was discussing this with my staff round the copy machine just by chance and one blinked her eyes and said the driver of the independent living center in that area( and who Russ has been working with) was in our building even as we were speaking an would be soon returning and would drop the diapers off as he went. Another miracle for the month! I could not believe it I am going to become believer yet. TT and I were feeling pretty confident and assured as sent the diapers away to Russ. TT had left for the day when I got another call Russ. Russ wanted to know if the diapers we were shipping North were Depends. I immediately put the call on hold and screamed an appropriate
inappropriate expletive and let Russ know the diapers coming up were NOT Depends but would work just fine and he had better appreciate them when they got there and disconnected the call. Russ called a final time about forty five minutes ago indicating the diapers had got to his apartment and they would work just fine. I felt relieved and then he said, “Oh and tell that lady thanks for talking to me.” Russ said this is a small squeaky mouse voice kind of cracking but sincere. Russ has been one of jut a few who ever calls with thanks.

What Have I Become?

I don’t know how much I like myself any more. I run a very small call center, a call center supposedly for people with disabilities, or family members with disabilities or what ever. We are listed in the phone directory all over the state and we have a toll free number and the name of the agency starts with the letter “A” so we are the first, in many cases, agency people come to in their desperate search for solutions when they finally realize they cannot any longer continue down the path they are on. Many of these folk actually do have disabilities, others wish they had disabilities and a lot are just cons trying to get another month of rent, food or what ever they can with as little as possible.

I work with all the groups fairly well and more often then not I am the bearer of bad news. I am the end of the road, I am the one who tells them this is it, you’re going to loose the apartment, house or cart are all the above so get used to the idea and get on with it. This used to be hard on me to tell these folks “the news”. Actually, at first I would not tell them the “ the news”. I would hang up leaving the caller that I would pull a rabbit out the hat and some where and find them the rent money they did not have, or keep their utilities on for another week or month but in the end they hung up and would off the hot seat for a couple of weeks and I lived in dread till the next month when the calls would start again. This would continue until I finally told the new there were no more services I would greave with them and feel guilty and dirty after I hung up the phone thinking and wish I could have done more. Part of the reason I let this happen is because I did not know any better. I like my caller thought the world was going to end for them because they were going to loose the apartment, mortgage or lights.

But, you know the world never did stop turning, life kept going one day after the other and I got hard but not necessarily un feeling but I sure cut down the time the weeper was going to keep me on the phone with his hard luck story. I leveled with the caller sooner after I got a feel for the call that they most likely were going to loose the apartment, yes they were going to be homeless—for a while but life would continue and they most likely would survive. I often sided with the City, or the State or the boss when the caller wanted compensation or worse vengeance because one of these entities would not let them slide just because the caller had a disability. I have heard the stories of the bad husbands and bad wives who are trying to kill them, cheat them or just use them. It gets old. I tell them to let go and move on life is too short. What really continues to surprise me is many of the folk I give, even the grimmest news, seems relieved and genuinely thank me for taking time to really listen and really respond to them. I often tell them to call me back and let me know what happens to them because in some detached way I really care what happens to them.

I can do this and at the end of the day or week go home make dinner watch Seinfeld and sleep well. But I have lost something somewhere. I am not sure I like who I have become.

Pray For A Second Wind

today has been one of those days one should get a medal for just getting through it. I woke up at 2:30 am and really did not get back to sleep after that. I just laid in bed and at first tried to force myself back to sleep and then being defeated at returning to sleep jut laying there in bed hoping that at least by lying there I am resting and maybe I’ll rest enough to get through the up coming day. It only semi worked today. I was exhausted by the time I got off the train when I got into Salt Lake. I even had to dress nice today because the office was hosting meeting of our agencies Executive Board followed by the Agency Transportation meeting. I am acting staff to the Transportation meeting meaning I have to be focused enough to take notes.

My office mate TT or Chapman for short, worked on our office statistics all morning. We are anticipating a meeting in May after our new website comes on line. But we want our board to have the statistics in hand when they come to the meeting. Our software is quite dated and a challenge, at bet, to work with. We worked on the document all day yesterday and today. This included counting hundred maybe even thousands of data-points, grouping like points and then graphing them into a useable document. We essentially were working data for the past six months. This is TT’s first experience with generating the agency data. TT is a trouper she jumped right into the projects and by this morning or by lunch we had the documents done, printed and being put into their respective envelopes when I realized one of the reporting period may have one quarter in too many. TT crumbled at this point. She had worked sooo hard this project and the thought of have to regenerate we some of these numbers was just too much for her to consider. She did not cry—which I commend her for—but she did acknowledge she was done for this day in no uncertain terms.

By the time I went into the transportation meeting my eyes had long glazed over and were being to roll into the back of my head. There was a couple of times I know my director caught me with my eyes clothes just a second too long. I would shake my self away and try to join the conversation. I think I did fairly well coming away from the meeting with a page and half of notes and at one time having to scramble back to my desk and frantically search my GroupWise for a name and phone number of a specific person to be invited to next month’s meeting. This task took me longer then I had wanted but I did it and everyone seemed happy. I am not going to start typing the minutes until tomorrow.

In a few minutes I will head for the train and the ride home maybe I’ll get lucky and no one I know will be on the train and I’ll be able to doze all the way to my stop.

A Most Outrageous Game

Last night I had the strangest dream: it was weird variation on O Henry’s

The most Dangerous Game. You know the short story where two guys are required to hunt each other in forest setting? Any way in my variation I am told I am going to have to hunt a friend of mine while he is going to try to be hunting me down at the same time. Hunting a good friend is bad enough but add to the challenge that my friend I have to hunt down like a dog, is a my good friend Johnny who, also has cerebral palsy. Johnny’s cerebral palsy is pretty involved impacting his speech and ability to ambulate. I can understand Johnny most of the time, and many times after asking to repeat himself a number of time which he always does with out issue. John uses a electric scooter as his main form of transportation. Now I am , if everyone remembers correctly, a quadriplegic which is now referred to as a tetraplegic( a greek latin thing). I am partially paralyzed from my shoulders down and I use a power chair for mobility.

In this dream Johnny and I are ro hunt each other and in this dream the idea of us hunting each other terrified me. Like how would we know when to start, where the hunt was going to be and what was the winner going to get besides not getting killed. Though the territory was never stated I gathered the “killing zone” would be somewhere in Salt Lake City, downtown Salt Lake.

The fear is always so focused in a dram, so irrational so end of the world.

If common sense or rationality help up or on second in this dream-since Johnny and I are both significantly paralyzed neither of us could aim a rifle and pull the trigger at the same time with enough efficiency to actually harm each other. Maybe the success of the hunt depended on who had he best charged batteries. If I could manage to get Johnny to expend his batteries before I did, maybe I could get a shot off at him. It would still be iffy. We would probably end up having to club one or the other to death.

I have been trying to figure out what was the stimulus for such a violent dream. I spent the evening catching up on episodes of Eli Stone and though there was some scenes of violence in these programs nothing to equate the level of violence depicted in my dream. I come up zeros. I hate thinking of this kind of stuff anyway. I like Johnny I always have I cannot think of why my subconscious picked him unless it knew neither could pull the trigger (physically) if we had to so we would essentially be safe The more I have thought of the dream today, the more I wonder if we could set something up at the mall , after hours, with full battery charges, helmets with visors, vests and paintball guns for a most outrageous game.

Making Soup A Passing the Time

Yesterday was nice but dusty from the wind blowing today’s cold weather in. The day was not as bad as I had anticipated, the weather guy was talking about possible snow to go along with the rain, but no snow and very little rain, just cold temperatures making me want to stay in and hunker down and wait for the real Spring or at least warm weather to come to the area. I had hoped to fire up one of the grills and do some outdoor cooking but the wind and the temp stopped that plan. I still wanted to create something so I looked through the fridge and found a couple of steaks in the freezer and enough of the right ingredients I needed to make a soup. I started late in the day but that is OK. Dianne is napping and I am waiting fro the soup to finish. Kinda of slow but not a bad Sunday after noon. I am still hoping to visit with Shelly and maybe get a chance to see Madeline. I noticed she was online earlier in the day but by the time I got to answering her response she was gone

Please Look Awake

I am going to be in meeting for a major portion of my day, one meeting on the phone and the other over at Department of Health. I am anchored to my desk this morning trying to charge my power chair and I am feeling pretty frustrated. Plus my butt is beginning to threaten me again.

This meeting this afternoon is a group studying pandemic: influenza. I got into this group when they called and wanted someone from the disability community to sit on the council. I volunteered thinking surely they would be serving great food at the Health Department. They have their own cafeteria. Guess what the group meets from 3:00-5:00! I guess leaving a few minutes early is more important then great hot lunches. The building is served by poor public transportation so I am having to bring the van in on days I have the meeting. Perhaps the worse part of the whole meeting thing is most of the people who sit on this group are medical, science and a few healthcare professionals. They seem pompous, territorial and somewhat elitist I just don’t fit in but they asked specifically for me or at least my office. So I will be therewith “shield up”!

The Wave Has Past or Death and Taxes

I left for work trusting that Dianne would get up and follow up on the taxes and get them done and I would have the very painful task of coming home to sign off on the taxes and drive them to the post office and send them off and sink into debt to the IRS thousands of dollars. I had accepted this was the way things were going to be and I was OK with that. We would get by we always do. I was totally surprised when Dianne called later in the afternoon to report that somewhere late morning she had caved, the complexity of the tax burden we had developed had become too much. She called H&R Block and she had got right in for a tax consultation and the tax guys had found tax options we knew nothing about and we ( Dianne) came out with over a $1000.00 refund add to this the tax bonus the Fed have promised this year of over another $1000.00 we are going to come out smelling like roses. But most important is the IRS is off our back, no debt, no audit no pain. This has to be a miracle.

This had been a complicated tax year, with Dianne going on to Social Security and lump sum payments in the many thousands of dollars( none of which we realized since the lump sum was immediately paid back to the State for their paying us “disability” for the preceding year—the flows of monies, paybacks other benefits we used to survive was just too complicated. However, now we have got this tax year behind us our incomes should be much easier to calculate taxes on from here on out.

Lake Stink and Taxes

Lake stink and dust filled the air this morning as I rolled out the door. I was taken back by the amount of dust filling the air. I had expected clouds and rain from the forecast. The wind had blown all night, howling from a crack Dianne had left in the window. Change was blowing in and I welcomed the change, the wind noise was somehow soothing as I lay buried under the comforter Dianne had thrown over me as she always does before climbing over me to her side of the bed.

The cold front shook the house and rattled the windows and left me with mild dread for the day to come. I have meeting out the last two hours of the day—which I don’t like since I’ll have to leave the phone unattended when I am gone since TT will be gone also leaving at 2:00 or 3:00 or what ever. I just hope that the calls are few and the callers will call back tomorrow. The winds billowed in from the North crossing the Great Salt Lake as the came bringing in the lake’s stench. You see, as far as I am concerned the Great Salt Lake is a dead body of water. The lake has no outlet the water just sits and basically stagnates. The Lake is salty as well remnants from the prehistoric Lake Bonneville when the lake cover most of Utah, Sure some argue the brine shrimp are life form but just barely and I stand corrected from wickapedia. Even though the lake IS technically, dead the brine shrimp do live it and the and hosts of birdlife live round its shores—go figure. The place still stinks especially when the wind blows from the North.

We are getting killed, again, by taxes this year. I bet we will owe thousands this year. When I got home last night Dianne was diligently working on the computer and tax forms in a much better mood then I would have anticipated. Social Security lump sums and me not having enough taken out of my checks are scourging us terribly. But we grin and bear it and move on and hope for a break next year. The taxes are not done yet, and Dianne is poised to work and finish them today and I shall have to sign them and send them off.

As I said, I have meetings today, so I drove in, adding to the general pollutions and valley stink. I also figured I would cave in to comfort if the forecast of rains and possible snow should come to be..I am so weak.

Happy Birthday John

Happy Birthday John—today you’re 57 years old. I have already done the friendship testament to you a couple of years ago and I was surprised at how many entries you have in this blog. I misplaced you phone number again and spent time on ZabaSearch and US Dex and finally called Tom and had a good visit with your older brother. The batteries in my cell are depleted and are being charged and I did call your number twice but you were already gone for the day. Maybe I’ll try tomorrow at your office for a belated birthday wish. It’s no big deal and I’ll not publish an image this year as I have done on years past when I have remembered you birthday.

Farther and farther apart we drift, over the years, distance and experiences. On this ocean of time, we have to paddle madly just to keep updated on each others lives. I don’t know why keeping in touch is important to me it just is. Like as long as I know where you are, your phone, an address, I can call you if I need to. But why would I need you, in another state and another life? It’s not like you are going to drop everything and run down to Utah to jump start my car, pick me up off the floor or help me remember something very important that happened in Ms Petersons 3rd grade class. Maybe its just the memory I need to keep alive, as fresh as I can; maybe it because as long as I can verify that you are alive and doing well or just doing OK, that means I am alive and just doing too. And that is how we live/exist in this, our 57th year. Happy Birthday old friend and any more.

TGIF

Papers Please

Create your own visitor map!

I have a window which faces out onto a major Salt Lake artery and as everyone knows Salt Lake has very wide streets and there is median, of course in the middle of the street. The median is not large and easy to step over and everyone does when they cross in the middle of the block. I have noted in the past the Mexican consulate is located upstairs from my office and for the longest time it seemed like every Hispanic and their duck was parking in our back parking lot or the staff parking area. We and other’s in the building who park in the rear complained and now people who are visiting the building and not staff of the building must park their vehicles across the street in the vast parking area across from my building. The same parking area where the Ring Ling brothers park their trucks and elephants when they are in town. So now as these hordes of folk who are visiting the consulate must cross the street to get to our building and for the most part they cross right infront of my window; This constant movement is always fascinating.
Yesterday as a gang of seven or eight hombres were crossing the street they were stopped my one of salt lake finest traffic cops and later backed my one of the motorcycles. I could not believe it. The scene was like something from a “B” movie. The cops lined the guys up and were asking for papers. The Hispanics were fidgeting shifting from one foot to another and swimming through their wallets and bags pulling out their papers. Lucky they were coming from the building not going to because at least now they had their updated passports.
This is the first time I have ever seen this happen. There are many time I “jay-walk” just a little further up on the block. It’s just easier to do then go all the way down to a crossing area. I just wonder if the cop was bored, or had just having a bad “citizen day” popped these guys just because he could. Some times this town/state really embarrasses me.

I'd Buy That For A Dollar!

Last night I had to drop some mail off at the post office on the way home from work so I went the long way to the train station. I actually like this route over the shorter route which takes me up to the Arena station. The route I took last night takes me to the Galavin station, right in the center of Downtown, by the CBS affiliate, banks and other downtown operations. Things are happening in this section of town, lots of people and lots of energy.
When I got to the Galavin, the train I wanted was just pulling out of the station and I knew I was going to have to wait another 15 minutes and that is when I hear the music. I heard what sounded like cello music close by and then I noticed what looked like a homeless guy sawing a way on a cello! Not very well, but heroically sawing the music out of the instrument, Just the same. I was impressed and decided to this scene was too good to loose. I know I would hate myself if I did not take the time to capture moment.
I have decided rather then to try to clandestinely take images of interesting folk I am going to start offering them a dollar for their image so we both gt something for the deal. You should have seen the lad’s face light up like a 100 watt bulb when I asked his name. “Ely” he said
“Can I take you picture? I’ll give you a dollar”, I said
“Sure” he said…I dropped the dollar into his backpack and began filming.
I was pleased with what I got an Ely got a dollar. Here it is enjoy.

The best Part Of All

Vicki left last month but due to time conflicts her farewell lunch was today. The office shut down and we trooped across the street to an asian restaurant liked by many of the staff. There was an excitement rippling through the office all morning “field trip” when I was in school. Work was getting done but just barely and when Vicki arrived about a half hour before the targeted time all work ceased and everyone seemed and visited with the leaving/ left work mate. What I thought was kind of awkward the “new guy” had already moved into Vicki’s old office looking like he had been there for ever. The guy opted out for lunch indicated her already had a lunch engagement.

I never have been good at office social functions: Small pieces of time when the office comes together usually round a separation of one office mate, for one reason or another, from the rest of the group. The little cliques quickly pull together and grab chairs next to each other round the table. The boss sits next the leaving workmate and I always just sit where I can under the table. Like today they restaurant had their “accessible entrance” locked and everyone was well seated by the time I finally got into the restaurant.

The separation lunch is a living wake (in Utah) without the booze, thankfully. A little booze at something like this( I think)could be lethal. As it is, there are stories of “remember when” or “were you here when we did this or that” ; forced laughs and side long glances and half smiles of people who remember, or wish they could forget, the whole story. The person leaving today had been at this agency, like me, through three directors. She and I had actually met while taking part in a year long consumer training program. We’re fairly close probably the staff I would feel most comfortable adjusting my clothes after being trapped in the bathroom. She is the mom of two pretty severely disabled kids, she has been ion the political trenches and is a good advocate and understands the issues of folks with significant disabilities. I am friendly with her husband an if I need help I would go to Vicki.

The hour for lunch passed quickly and the silences were becoming more and more uncomfortable. I had already backed away from the table and put on my red jacket and was doing the power wheelchair users equivalent to pacing, the continual pushing of my joystick to where it would make a loud “click” when it electronically engaged and then disengage it quickly before the chair would move, indicating my anticipation to get back to my office. Promises were made to stay in contact, lunches promised but no dates set and distant hugs thrown out like soldiers searching for landmines, accompanied by self-conscience smiles.

The really unique part about these events and this office is a that the boss actually picks up the check at the end of the lunch and that is the best part of all.

Where's My VISA

A couple of months ago I did a favor for a friend of mine who works for a distinguished center for higher learning here in Utah. I cannot remember if the favor was for his program(graduate) or someone else’s but in any I agreed to have him interview me regarding my views on certain aspects of disability, no big deal. I really like this guy, what I know of him. He is blind, uses a dog for mobility and has a graduate degree. He is of East Indian decent and he is pretty funny and I enjoy the time I have spent with him.

When I finished the interview Sauchin gave me a $25 VISA gift card as a means of compensation for my time- I thought that was cool and rally classy. I took the card and threw in my backpack and basically forgot about the card until yesterday when I got an electronic nudge from Amazon that they had books and it was time for me to purchase another. I get these nudges every couple of weeks and I usually just delete the email. Sometimes, however, I will at least open the email and see what Amazon desperately feels I need.

I have been interested in the latest offering by Stephen King, Duma Key. I was gong to give King a rest this year but DK has sounded more and more intriguing. I instantly saw the $28.00 an though no way and even the Amazon price of $18.94 was more then I could justify on a book then I saw in the section where Amazon list how many used books are available the book was listed $7.80 or something like that. I checked just now and the price has climbed to just a little over $8.00. #8.00 is the price range which I would spend for a paperback…new. I kinda hate to but a new hard back, just because hardbacks are just so awkward in my life of powering in my chair, train rides and backpack living and then I remembered I have the $25.00 VISA Gift Card! The gift card is like finding money or having money I can only spend on me—unless I take someone to dinner or lunch or something and I sort of tried that but Dianne did not want to go out when I asked, but I could do a book maybe even two. This could be great since I just broke a hundred pages on the book I am currently reading and I’ll be ready for a new read in a week or so.

Excitedly I fetched my backpack and quickly found the card ad rolled back to the computer. I tore open the envelope housing the card and beheld the shiny new plastic rectangle with VISA written in the corner and a smart row of number embossed across the front. I read the instructions on the back of the card. I have to “Activate” the card which made sense: how can one spend if the INTERNET universe does not know your number? There in lies my frustration; try as I might to activate my little $25.00 card I cannot. Each time I type in the row of numbers and hit “enter” I just get the message “ cannot locate number”.

So I did not order book today and I should let the matter of the card drop but I have already decided I will call Sauchin tomorrow and discretely ask if any of the other interviewees have had any trouble spending their compensation. I don’t plan to be a jerk and I’ll let the matter rest one way or the other but I sure wanted to order Duma Key today.

Reflections

Whew! That’s done. I am back, three grueling days of conference. Actually only one day, of the all day conference and the “bookends were half days but essentially wrecks the rest of the day the conference occurs. I call these grueling days and they were and are but I really did not do anything by but attend sessions, eat smile and try to fit in with a bunch of sheep.

The conference was hosted or put on my the local bus company, theoretically on how to best serve people with disabilities in their service base, and to be fair the operation does a fairly good job all things considered at least from my personal service needs. How-ever there is a whole class of folks with disabilities that the Authority does not serve well at all. I know my boss was invited to this event and she really wants the Authority to better service people who use a service described “para-transit”. I could really take off on a diatribe regarding par-transit and how and what para-transit is and hop para-transist as service for people with disabilities will ever work but there is not the time or well for that to happen right here and now.

The conference was an invitation only affair, and when I was first made aware the event was going to take place the event was sold on a “we really want and need you” at this event. Again, when I got the final invitation and called to find out more regarding the forum I was concerned about a commitment which would take me away from my desk 16 hours over three days! When I tried to hedge my attendance by saying I could be there for maybe the first session or the second day and skip day UTA told me no “we really want you there for the whole thing” and did not sound as if they we going to budge.

Aside from a really great hotlunch the first day: roast beef and dark rich gravy over mountains of mashed potatoes the conference began to go downhill. The conference turned out to be a series of activities which seemed like a throw back to Camp—some activities lasting at leas two hours—lost of charts developed and taped to walls and skits and reflecting( reminiscent of Fast and Testimony meeting—right down to standing up and someone bringing you a microphone for you to speak into and share your thoughts.

There were breakfasts of scrambled eggs and fried potatoes and muffins which actually was not that bad but the other meals tended to go down hill until the last meal was the ubiquitous box lunch—again which was OK but you knew they were finished with you.

The wrap up session was a strong arm session from the conference facilitators to extract a commitment from the event participants to carry on the “ideals” of the conference to meet and bring a more accessible transportation to all of Utahans.

What I felt at the end of the 16 hours, as did many of those who were with me, that the management came with a preconceived agenda which was not going to change regardless of the input for the participants. The conference almost seemed as if it was an item to be “checked” off to meet a grant requirement. Many came away feeling used abused.

Luckily, I don’t have to do much conferencing. I am just glad this conference was in the home town and I did not have to leave my house and bed. Then I would have really been pissed.