Happy August-Part 2

Ani was packing change, a lot of change as we talked about yesterday so I knew we were going to be stopping at places where Ani could spend freely. I therefore thought it would be smart to be caring some cash as well and I wanted to check on my credit Union account. We were moving quickly and spending dough, stopping at the 7-11, and Starbucks junk food and sugar seemed to be the “food’ of choice. I decided we should stop and take time for some “real food” at least the illusion of protein .

As a rule I distain Arby’s or a think I do but remembered last week when we got the curly fries, I was surprised the fries were better then I had anticipated and I wanted to order a more. Since there is an Arbys in the same area as the 7-11. I had heard of the Arbys “5 for 5 “ campaign, I have be brutalized un -mercifully by the same campaign but as I listening to the options the option the 5 for 5 option starting sounding pretty interesting. I found I cold get curly fries, cheese logs, ham melt or a beef melt or even a drink or a mix it up. I could get lots of stuff. We had drilled through the $20.00 I had withdrawn earlier in the day but were doing OK. We still had maybe ten ones ad lots of “silver”. I did not think about me searching my back pack in front of the whole restaurant. In fact I was searching for change to spend to get rid of, to lighten my load. Really, I just did not wan to have to use my bank or VISA card. Cash only, leaving not trails is the way we were traveling today.

Like I said I was digging though my back pack and wallet and so was Ani, since she was helping pay for the feast. We decided on a cheddar beef and a ham melt cut in half so we could share, cheese logs, one suicide fountain drink and curly fries. We were truly in our element. We took our bounty and headed for our table and dug in. We were sitting there happily munching away, me enjoying the curly fries and Ani busy un curling her fries and having a great time when we suddenly heard a geriatric asking if we had enough food, or would be like some more? Ani of course was instantly confuse and where I started out confused I soon clearly realized that were being charity(ed). This was terribly awkward, sitting in the middle of the Arbys being asked if they could feed us more. I felt like a seeing eye dog must feel when someone asks its owner if they can pet it. I tried to be gracious but firm in conveying that we were OK and did not need anything. Ani and I must have looked pathetic “dime diving” to the bottom of my back pack. I managed to finally convince granny that the two of us were OK and had enough lunch for the moment. The damage had already been done though, we had been singled out, accused(indirectly ) of being paupers—maybe they thought we were charity whores. Who knows? We eventually got back to our lunch and were just finishing up when a little girl approached our table gingerly. She was obviously doing something she was un sure of but she was being forced to do it. She was clutching a perfectly wrapped “Cheddar-Melt” and pushed the sandwich onto our table and said “My grandma said you can have this—we’re done eating and says you can have it.”.

Ani’s eyes became the size of plates as she began to recognize the first inklings of a free food scam. Hang out with grand pa= free food…would it work at KFC?!! I tried to decline the sandwich with out breaking the kid’s heart—after all she was just the messenger. The world seemed to stand still as it waited to find out whether we would accept or decline the benevolent offering of food. In order to get the world spinning again and return the universe to the natural order I accepted the gift. The “messenger” skipped back to an adoring grandmother while the perfectly wrapped Cheddar melt sat on our table like IED waiting to explode. But Ani seemed to know that were not going to touch the sandwich while the clan was there and would watch the beggars chowing down. The clan finally did leave and the second they left I nodded to Ai who dismantled the IED and just ate roast beef knowing she could do what ever to this sandwich she wanted. She ate the insides without being yelled at for leaving the bun.

We still had places to go and as we left the restaurant we felt we had been somehow slimed—but the sun quickly warmed us as we headed back to the bus stop. We rode in silence a long way trying to figure out just what hjad happened at lunch.

Blinking Lights But We Made It Home!!

Dianne and Ani are a set. They always have been and most likely always will be and that is just the way things are but Ani is a bright eight years old and has learned to survive with the other adults in her life. This summer has been a great challenge to the two as Dianne has been so ill and needed to rest and take life a little easy. Ani on the other hand is an eight year old who is high energy and high maintenance. One of Ani’s activities this summer has been daily swimming and Monday Dianne joined her. Now Ani has been swimming and has been sun blocked and has tanned to a golden brown and Dianne has hardly been out in the sun and both swam for 4 or five hours in the “outside” pool. When I got home Monday night both were sleeping and by the time I roused them up Dianne was already beginning to feel the effect of the trauma of direct sun. She had become the proverbial lobster stiff and a little sore. I think yesterday Dianne’s body was still in shock but she maintained. I rubbed her with suave and ointments and we made it through the night but today I could tell she was in a lot of pain. Luckily it is Wednesday my day off and I pretty much figured the girl was going to be with me today.

Anakah figured as much too and all she wanted to do was start on the walk”, which is code for traversing the neighbor and heading straight for 7-11. I finished dressing and grabbed some breakfast and we were off. Ani was packing money from her folks—all in change about $3.00 in quarter dimes and nickels. I needed some traveling change so I stopped at my credit union and got twenty bucks and we were off. Next stop 7-11 and then to office depot where I checked out the bargains and sales and Ani got some lip gloss. Then across the street to Starbucks for ice coffee and kid drinks and people watch. We had a great time. Then to Arbys where we did the five for five( more on this tomorrow it’s unbelievable. The we jumped a bus a and went South fifty streets and caught the North Bound train to the “ Death Star” the huge new hospital and checked out the cafeteria I thought the GD might want some ice cream but she wanted the gift shop. So off to the gift shop. Bare in mind Ani had been on my lap for most of this trip and my batteries were draining quicker then I had anticipated—I was already into my red warning lights and I was getting worried I might not make it home and there was no van since it is in the shop and may stay there being quoted $1,500.00 or so to get the vehicle road worthy. This is another post as well.

We made it home—just barely with just one light blink. We stopped at every shady spot on the way home to let the chair charge. It was almost five o clock tired, hot but know we had a great day..!

Lost Boys

Very strange this shouod have posted last night--so I am posting today.

As I age, one of the greatest pleasures I experience is finding a quiet place and the getting lost in a novel. In the summer this place in on my driveway hidden behind my van; The van blocks me from direct the sunlight making this area a comfortable place with ample light to read. I thermal insulated mug of ice water and good book and I am set for hours. This was exactly doing yesterday afternoon trying to finish a novel I had been reading for three weeks when I was started out of my fictional psychosis by a human cry. A weird cry like he sound someone makes when they are listening to music on a good set of head phones and hey forget where they are, and they are so into the music they are listening to they start singing, loud, off key and committed to the piece. I was started but when I peered round the van I saw an un-kept adolescent wondering down the street.

Granted yesterday was a hot day, at least before the great winds cooled everything down but not hot enough for a lad to be as delirious as this kid was acting. At some point the wanderer saw me and ambled to where I was sitting and asked how I was doing. I was guarded in my response but indicated ‘ I was fine.’ I was reading a black hard back spy novel but the lad thought it was a bible when I assured him the book was not a bible, his eyes brightened and gave me a “high five”. Some how I had scored some points this kid. He then asked what magazine I read. Then I knew he was a sales guy, door to door one neighborhood at a time. I assured him I did not need any magazine but he pressed me any way thrusting a sealed in plastic ‘subscription list’. I gingerly took the document looking at it’s owner for the first time closely. A rambunctious, unkept gum chewing teen with bright intelligent eyes. I am sure a century or to earlier he would have been perfect in any of the Dickens novels. I watched him look at me, my yard and my house as we talked. I told him three times that I was not interested in any magazines—I am sure the lad had been schooled in the ‘three close sale”—but he backed away. The gleam however was still in his eye and then asked…” How’d did I get in that wheelchair”. I thought about stringing the kid along and launching into one of my favorite Viet Nam stories but decided the sooner this kid was out of my life the better we all would be. ‘ Motor cycle wreck” said and saw his yes enlarge to my surprise. He said that was too bad, and I said that that was cool it happened along time ago and that I was doing OK and tried to return to my book. Then the lad zinged me with a ball out of left field, I should have seen it coming but I didn’t. In a low voice, said from under his breath the kids asked,” You go any pills?”

I pretended I did not hear what he had said and said “What” know wing exactly what he had said. “Have you got any pills.” He responded again. “What kind of pills” knowing exactly what kind of pills he wanted: any kind one might need a script for. ‘You know…pain pills”. Then I feigned enlightenment. And informed the kid I was lucky. I had never needed heavy narcotics. He said he would buy what ever I had but I convinced him I was clean. The lad gave me another high five and was on his way, down the driveway and back out onto the street and soon he made a nother weird howl and another and soon he was joined by another adolescent searching for the rest of the pack of Lost Boys.

Ridenbaugh

Saturday morning and already I know the day is going to be too hot to do anything productive. I most likely will hold up in the house till even and I most likely will not even gout then. I wish I had a nice cold pool somewhere I could escape to likeI had the “bridge” in the old days. I learned my lesson last year when I scraped my butt so bad I have literally been trying to heal the wound for a year now. I scraped the butt right here in Murray at the Murray pool, which I have been pondering ever since. When I worked for independent living I actually sat on the Murray City Disability Advisory Board. And I can distinctly remember talking about getti*ng a wheelchair lift to assist people with disabilities into and out of the pool. I was part of that small group who searched for lifts: wheelchair verses personal . I understood they were going t get one. What happened?!! I will take my responsibility. I should have pushed harder and done better follow up. I guess, I let the “ball drop” I dropped the ball. I didn’t because something like a butt scrape had never happened to me before. The need for such an assistive tech device as a wheelchair lift, was for one of “those people”. I was still using a manual chair, I was strong compared to what I am now. I could actually, back then crawl back into my wheelchair from the ground. The effort of getting back into my chair took a while and a lot of energy but I could do it. In fact, I could not see the day when I would really need such a device. I thought that day was way off in the future.

This week has been the hottest week of the summer temperatures in the hundreds rolling home from the train is like sitting in the dryer on “high”. Bouncing in my chair, each bounce rubs the “healing” wound on my tender butt cheek. I remember distant summers when of days of this kind of heat I would saunter over to the rail on the bridge and pull my self to stand on the railing and launch my self into the dark green chill of the canal. Evan after my accident even if I could no longer stand on the rail I had a “crew” who would lift me out of my chair and throw my body into the dark cold current of the Ridenbaugh canal “ride” the current under the bridge and under the pipe then swim like mad over to the beach on the South West side of the ditch where a beach crew” would drag me out of the water and onto the beach.

After such a drenching my body temperature was effectively lowered to the point of comfort on such a sizzling hot day. I wish I had images of the canal in those days but I have found someone’s FLIKER ACCOUNT of the canal. So maybe I stay inside and work on the piece for Jerry and think about the dark green cool water of the Ridenbaugh.

Lost Boys

As I age, one of the greatest pleasures I experience is finding a quiet place and the getting lost in a novel. In the summer this place in on my driveway hidden behind my van; The van blocks me from direct the sunlight making this area a comfortable place with ample light to read. I thermal insulated mug of ice water and good book and I am set for hours. This was exactly doing yesterday afternoon trying to finish a novel I had been reading for three weeks when I was started out of my fictional psychosis by a human cry. A weird cry like he sound someone makes when they are listening to music on a good set of head phones and hey forget where they are, and they are so into the music they are listening to they start singing, loud, off key and committed to the piece. I was started but when I peered round the van I saw an un-kept adolescent wondering down the street.

Granted yesterday was a hot day, at least before the great winds cooled everything down but not hot enough for a lad to be as delirious as this kid was acting. At some point the wanderer saw me and ambled to where I was sitting and asked how I was doing. I was guarded in my response but indicated ‘ I was fine.’ I was reading a black hard back spy novel but the lad thought it was a bible when I assured him the book was not a bible, his eyes brightened and gave me a “high five”. Some how I had scored some points this kid. He then asked what magazine I read. Then I knew he was a sales guy, door to door one neighborhood at a time. I assured him I did not need any magazine but he pressed me any way thrusting a sealed in plastic ‘subscription list’. I gingerly took the document looking at it’s owner for the first time closely. A rambunctious, unkept gum chewing teen with bright intelligent eyes. I am sure a century or to earlier he would have been perfect in any of the Dickens novels. I watched him look at me, my yard and my house as we talked. I told him three times that I was not interested in any magazines—I am sure the lad had been schooled in the ‘three close sale”—but he backed away. The gleam however was still in his eye and then asked…” How’d did I get in that wheelchair”. I thought about stringing the kid along and launching into one of my favorite Viet Nam stories but decided the sooner this kid was out of my life the better we all would be. ‘ Motor cycle wreck” said and saw his yes enlarge to my surprise. He said that was too bad, and I said that that was cool it happened along time ago and that I was doing OK and tried to return to my book. Then the lad zinged me with a ball out of left field, I should have seen it coming but I didn’t. In a low voice, said from under his breath the kids asked,” You go any pills?”

I pretended I did not hear what he had said and said “What” know wing exactly what he had said. “Have you got any pills.” He responded again. “What kind of pills” knowing exactly what kind of pills he wanted: any kind one might need a script for. ‘You know…pain pills”. Then I feigned enlightenment. And informed the kid I was lucky. I had never needed heavy narcotics. He said he would buy what ever I had but I convinced him I was clean. The lad gave me another high five and was on his way, down the driveway and back out onto the street and soon he made a nother weird howl and another and soon he was joined by another adolescent searching for the rest of the pack of lost boys.

5 MONTHS

Today, July 25th we're five months till Christmas. I am so excited. I don't know why but every month after December on the twenty-fifth I start thinking good things about Christmas. Even in the three months before Christmas what the holiday stress begins to build I still have a little excitement. Everyone else things I am mad. Mothers want to rush me with a knife-most of them have not even put thier kids coats on lay-away for winter. But that is just me I still believe in miracles and especially Christmas I really want to believe.

Spiritual Sucker Punch

Pioneer Day, that day when the Mormons rolled into this valley back on July 24^th 1847; coming the East and through Emigration Canyon. Man what a disappointment that must have been to those expecting “milk and honey” and an incredibly hot desert which seemed to go on westward as far as the eye could see. And to make matter worse there was an immense body of water which was worthless-Salt water! Unbelievable!! But now this date is a state holiday and since I am a state employee I am off, just hanging round enjoying the day which feels like a holiday but still being able to get mail. There will be fireworks and other displays of tempered celebration—after all this is Utah and tomorrow IS a working day.

The worst thing about state holidays is that your state is the only state celebrating the holiday. Its weird to watch the Today Show or Good Morning America and the hosts are treating the like another morning. This of course true with NPR—these guys even deviate a little of their broadcast for even minor holidays like Halloween, valentine’s day St. Patty’s day to mention a few but never a mention for Pioneer Day. We are fortunate to have a number of Education affiliated radio stations in our listening area. KUER AND KBYU. KUER is University of Utah and KBYU is the American Public Radio affiliate. I usually listen to KUER in the mornings and through out the day when available. KUER is basically “news radio”. KBYU, on the other hand is education radio station for Brigham Young University, a very conservative university for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In the old days maybe ten or fifteen years ago KUER’s format was classical music during the day and jazz after 7:00 pm. I do not even remember KBYU back then. I quite enjoyed KUER then they changed formats going to NPR talk/news with just a little bit of jazz before going BBC all night and you know what that means.

When KBYU did eventually come on the scene they did so as the area classical music station. Now I mean really, classical music stations are elitist enough just being classical musical stations let alone coating the channel with a theological varnish. So now on those days when I do want to listen to classical—on the radio—I must also bare religious indoctrination at the same time. I can do this to a point, since I have been dealing with the indoctrination all my life. It just gets old: listening to a great set of J.S. Bach to be blasted with the spiritual of journalizing or be forced to listen to Music and the Spoken Word. I know I could just get up and change the channel to JACK FM or something but that is way too much energy. I could go to WQXR which is survivable and this works only of I am at my computer. What listening to KBYU really is setting you self up to get spiritually sucker punched. Music is not religious just because the music is old. But if you’re in the desert brackish water is better then no water at all. HAPPY PIONEER DAY TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT

The amazing Mr Black

Today has been a manic Monday—something’s in the air, the hot flat stagnant air of summer. A low ceiling of battleship gray clouds compress the atmosphere. The temperature is a low 81 degrees with a grudge if you look a thermometer cross eyed it will give you ten degrees just for spite. But I have been inside all day looking out, wishing I was out freezing in the meat locker of an office I inhabit. Frost bight technology.

The phones have been ringing steady all day. I cannot figure it. Righteous calls almost everyone even Mr Black, who sashayed into my office a little after lunch and took an hour of me and Tory’s time. Mr black was dressed in cowboy hat,vest and chaps, real chaps and black cowboy boots. And there was a 12 inch bowie knife I did not see. My buddy Frank in the other office saw the knife tucked into the back of Mr Black’s belt. Not that knowing about the knife would have made much difference one way or the other.

Mr. Black did not frighten me as much annoy me. How dare he interrupt my Monday with his disabled needs and Mr. Black has a lot of needs. He is married to a women with significant disabilities but who did not join him with his visit to our office. They are currently living in a flop hotel and need s to find low-income housing of some sort. I am able to council but I don’t council as part of this job.

In the course of the hour Mr Black was much more transparent then I wished revealing extended periods of drug addiction, psychiatric incarcerations and battles in the court for his children. Mr Black teared up a number of times talking about his wife and life. We listened to Mr Black for an hour an finally it was time for me to do the “walk to the door” trip. I typed a couple resources for him to check out and gave Mr Black a brochure to my office so he had something to hold on to.

It’s the Days of 47 a giant parade will course through downtown Salt Lake on Thursday and there is a major Rodeo happening in the Energy Center(old Delta) center In the course of the conversation with Mr Black. The who county takes on the western flavor, even bus drivers wear western garb. Mr Black, explained that he was desperate to find employment even if the work would be volunteering. I am hoping the get up Mr Black was wearing was in hopes of getting employed or even volunteering at the rodeo.

Mr Black teared up once again as I began to walk him toward the front door. He shook my hand and thanked me profusely for taking time out of my day. I did not do anything but listen and give a few ideas and a list of possible resources. I truly wish I could have done more. I best be careful for what I wish for I am sure I have not seen the last of Mr. Black.

One ThousandPosts

I really thought this was going to feel like a bigger deal then it is. 1000 posts about 500,000 words. It’s just another day for me, another Sunday afternoon with a little quite time where I can roll up to my lap top and write a couple of thoughts. I have actually enjoyed this writing I have been doing: seeing if I can write enough what ever it is to write a book; that I can master myself enough to write to be—a writer.

I know I am not a writer a REAL writer yet, but I now know I can be. I still do not know I can be a REAL writer, but I know I can at least go through the motions which means a lot to me. I was trying to tell Jerry, Friday at lunch, that I have learned from this experience a few things which will help me go to the next step of me becoming a real writer; like, not being so intimidated from a blank screen when I start` my daily writing exercise. Like if you get to your writing space the words will come. If the words don’t come that is OK too, because the words will come eventually a break can be good. Perhaps most important, I have the material in ME! My life is a rich deposit of experiences which want to come out experiences I want to tell. I don’t really care if I share these experiences so much as just getting the experiences out. History will take care of itself, and if someone down the line finds these words and are intrigued or just entertained well, that is good too. What I have also found out, which if exciting, comforting and amazing that I experience new events each day which are rich in color and content, experiences which I love writing about and I assume as long as I live I will have something to write about. My neighbor, I found keeps a journal. This is the old guy much older then me.

He informed me last week, that he hopes he will have time ( once he finds out he is dying) to destroy the journal and many of the records he has kept during his life. His statements terrify me. He says no one would want to have these documents. I have disagreed with him. I said his sons surely would want them or his grand kids or maybe those great great grandchildren yet un born or another generation further down the line. I said if nothing else I would love to have his records. It breaks my heart that he feels his life is not a worthy account to be remembered.

Not so with me. I am writing and I am loving it. Thank you for being around for this 1000^th post. I hope to have 1000 more then 1000 more beyond that. My desire to write is not to be read or even to make someone’s life a little easier make its just because I can.

Yesterday's Lunch

You know how easy it is to neglect someone? People you like, people you want as part of your life but you neglect them and loose them as life unfolds, and unfolds and unfolds round you., You see these people at Christmas parties and say, “ Let’s keep in contact” and suddenly it’s July and something happens, you see something on the news, speak with someone and that person whom you were going to “keep in touch” re enters your life with clarity and you are motivated to make contact.

This kind of clarity happened to me this past week. A local “international” newspaper agency made the headline when it was revealed the newspaper was drastically cutting staff: a major reduction in force. My good friend Jerry is an writer for this paper. He is more then that actually, but he carries that title. He has been with the institution for over 30 years and has reason in management, close to the top but basically has always written columns and editorials. When I heard the newspaper was “parachuting” upper management and laying off lower beings I began to be concerned. I emailed Jerry and responded almost immediately. He was fine and was hunkering down waiting for the storm to blow over. And let’s do lunch.

Jerry and I have a history of Chinese food and there is a great little Chinese restaurant in the heart of downtown Salt Lake, Cindy Lees. Cindy Lee’s is not the best Chinese I have eaten but the place is accessible by train, accessible and fast. My train made me on time and Jerry came in shortly after I had secured a table. He looked good for an old guy—we share this in common: good looking old guys. Jerry is doing fine. He was offered a “silver parachute” not enough to be in gold quality but enough to place Jerry high in the Silver category. He refused it meaning that Jerry will now be working more for less. But Jerry said,

“These guys(the new paper and management)have been good

to me. I won’t bail on them. It’s just not me. I figure I mean give

them 2 and half more years—can’t be any worse then two and half

years in Bolivia and survived that.”

I thought that was pretty cool and I was relieved that jerry would be round for a while longer. I found that one perks of Jerry’s commitment to the paper was he would assume much more power-not a big deal for Jerry but maybe for me. He told me to write him something and he would publish it. I sat back in my chair and considered the offer. Jerry asked what I was writing and I told him my bog, that I was close to my 1000 posting. I promised I would email him the address soon as I got back to my office—which I did. He’ll look at it. Plus Jerry wants a 600 word opinion piece about anything and he will publish it. I am going to bang out something and see what happens.

We ended the lunch right at an hour with the promise to get together in the Fall…I hope its way before then.

It's Not About Me

It ‘s not like last night was a wonderful night for sleep but I bounced right out of bed at 4:30. I was out of the shower , got something to eat and was ready to head for the train a full twenty minutes then I usually am and I sill have not figured out why but I was. I figured since I had the time I would check out the blog a little and as I scrolled down the noticed that I actually had a comment. Some one had actually responded to something I had written. It seems as if it has been months since someone left a comment and I am able o check to see like how many people are visiting per day and where they are coming in from. Honestly. On any given day I have three to five people and I can generally tell who they are by seeing what past of the country they are viewing from. checking out the blog counter. These are usually of course family members riding herd on their wayward brother making sure the family history, remains spotless. Again this is “OK” I must remind myself. My blog writing is NOT a competition of how many people read my blog . I also remind myself, that I got into blogging to write, to write on a daily bases, to test my mettle to see if I am a writer or could be a writer. So, I tell myself, as I write every day. I write for myself—the fact the blog is public, I choose to make the blog public, exposing myself to risk of public exposure and risk of public humiliation. I think I have just enough exhibitionism in me to not really worry or think through the public exposure angle.

The commenter turns out to be one of my older friends John, I have written about John before. John was my first exposure to someone who actually read, because he enjoyed reading. Seems John was/is just about everything I wasn’t growing up: smart, tough, self assured, well connected, popular and going somewhere. John was the only person I knew who actually had the balls to graduate with a history degree. My friend John is the only person I know who lives on the otherside of the “NPR mirror”. John lives the life of NPR listeners, a professional, traveler, family man and professionally cool. John could be, no, should be a writer( if he is not already-I just have not discovered what he is writing). I read his dissertation, not world class lit but great stuff. He is a historian—who would have believed?

But John stopped my blog and left a comment. John took a bullet for me, because one has to expose themselves to Blogger, in order to leave a comment, a person has to divulge information, personal information many are not comfortable divulging. Thanks John, I really appreciate your stopping by and leaving a comment. You are the only one in a long time, who hasn’t been family to do so. Thanks.

Thousands of Words

I am wondering why I have not been posing like I regularly do. I am not sure but I think the reason maybe have something to do with the fact that I am nearing my 1000th post. Actually, I posted this milestone some time ago. I think I lost a butt load of posts a couple of years ago when Blogger went through one of its many iteration and started me out at a much lower number . Be that as it may, the number is again hovering round 1000. I am wondering I have a fear of reaching this significant number, at least significant to me. Because when I reach this number “1000” I will have written 500,000 word give or take 1000 words and this is very significant to me. 500,00 words is a good sized novel. I am wrong, I did some checking and the average paperback novel is between 50,000-65,000 words, way under the number I have been wring this past 1000 posts. So,. I can do it. I now just have to write this many words on one topic. This should be my next goal: write my novel.

As I have neared this milestone I actually started as novel I have been thinking of for some time, a biological novel of my self, a monetization of my life starting out as a person with a disability. I did pretty good on the project until I came to the very moment of the impact o my head on the windshield and there I stopped writing and have not gone back. I think I have major issues and I have to think of how the get past them. Actually I am kind of excited about writing this account and I feel I have wanted to do this writing for 43 years now and this is the closest I have been able to come.

The office is going through another major change as the new front desk person finally started this week.. She returned the second day of her employment, which is a good sign for the office since we have had employees this position not return the second day and boy that was weird. Bonnie seems nice and easy going, which I believe, gives her great promise for succeeding in her new position. Bonnie has finally met all the staff, she still has to meet the Council which is another trip entirely and experience the first full Council meeting.. But I am sure she will do fine, she seems to roll with the punches. She has already survived the first trauma with staff and our building and building politics and human rights.

Some we are in the honeymoon phase, she with us and we with her. Things even little things seem larger and more important then they are. First impressions are being made whih will hold through to the end of her employment. Bonnie is the new guy and will be the new guy until the next hire when ever that well be. I bet Frank is resting now since he just past on that title.

Lost and Found

This is the post I thought on Friday. I found it "saved' when I booted up this morning.

I had my DDS meeting today, a regular meeting I attend every month for local Department of Determination Services(DDS) for the Social Security administration. I serve on this organization’s advisory board and have served on the board for the past ten years at least. I have chaired this board for the past four or five years. It’s a nice gig, advisory board have no power to peak of but most State and Federal agencies are mandated to have them, bosses usually like fior their staff members to serve on these board since it makes the organization, allowing their staff to serve on the board. look good and they always include the hours or meeting in their annual report or in grants reports.

I used to serve on any board which asked but learned I needed to be more careful of the board I sat on. Some boards met at night, one in particular met on Wednesday nights from seven to when ever they ended. This was an interesting board and fiery representing the interests of the poor sand benighted. When I was younger the meeting did not bother me but as I aged I found I could not longer work a full day then hang out till seven o clock and do two to three more hours on top of that. I finally bailed after seven years of service.

I finally realize there were boards who fed you an board which just used you. One of the best perks of sitting on a board is board which schedule the meetings lateni in the workday and typically end at the end of workday or even earlier allowing me to leave for the day when the meeting is over.

I sort of pick the boards I serve on by the quality of meals served. I was always assured the meal at the DDS advisory board would be quality and usually hot. Theonly meal I had issues with was the potato bar an I have ragged on about potato bars in the past—I don’t count potato bars as a meal. Hot meals at DDS Advisory was usually Mexican food which was good. More often then not we are served a cold cut bar which consisted of three or four cold cuts, three different kinds of bread, a salad and desert. I rarely made a salad but usually loaded up von my favorite meat pretty good.

Today was to be my last meeting chairing the Advisory Board, in fact my last meeting even sitting on the advisory board. This is the en of my second full term, each term being four years and I finished someone else’s term which was two years. So this ends, for me a decade of service. I am invited to sit in and chair the /September meeting whe we will do new elections then I should be off.

I’ll miss my time on DDS Advisory Board, good food, good time away from the office and easy duty, always done by 5:00 pm

Postless

I actually wrote a post yesterday a pretty good post, from my point of view, but I never posted, not because I did not want to but because, I guess I ran out of time. Yesterday, was a typical Friday. The boss was gone and I was not in charge, unless I was not told I was in charge, so why stress? I spent most of the day caching up on things round my office. Actually, I had a meeting out in the neighborhood: a ride on the train in the middle of the day. In fact the post was about my tour of duty with this advisory board coming to an end. I hope to still post the document I wrote so I will leave the meeting at that, a great way get out of the office on a Friday.

I returned to the office about 2:00. Since I had been out in the community zipping round I had taxed the batteries in my chair and I needed to commit a couple of hours of uninterrupted charging of my wheelchair batteries to be sure I had the power to get home.

Fridays are funny, Fridays are always unpredictable. I started writing the blog for the day and I was sailing along when my phone rang. I took the call, gave the information requested and then went back to my blog. It took me a moment to get my rhythm back but I did by 3:30 I was coming into the last paragraphs fine, ninety minutes left in the day post before I leave , no problem. Staff begin drifting out for the weekend, last minute socialisms, “Have a great weekend…see you Monday”, “take it easy enjoy the weekend…” and a phone call. I glance at my post and minimize the screen to document my call. 4:30 I glance in the mirror and see Frank sticks his head in the door and mouths “good bye, have a good weekend”. I wave Frank out. As he leaves my phone call ends and I dash to the back, to the break area and unplug the coffee pot, empty the coffee and wash out the pot and head back to my office. 4:40 Just as I get back to my desk the phone rings again. I take the call, glancing at the clock and think to my self why now? This person probably had all day but NOW is calling for information. I close the screen again to bring up my call tracking software. It’s a weird call, it going to be a long call, this is a call which is going to run past the 5:00 clock. Push the clock out of your head and focus on the call I tell myself as Marsha stops in on her way out to say goodnight and good weekend, and that she will lock me in the office.

The call is from an extremely rural part of Utah. I doubt the caller is going to get the services they are seeking, especially tonight; which I bring to the caller’s attention but I doubt she understood jab I was thrusting. I too a deep breath and sighed as I watch the minute hand stop on “12” then move on. I finally close the call about ten minutes after the hour.

The office is silent, I m the only one there. I unplug myself from the charger with more then enough power to get home and stuff my backpack. I start the process to begin powering down my computer. I feel hurried as the screen flashes “Do you want to save this file” “NO” I think to myself just close yourself out “Are you sure” the system asks.

“NO.NO,NO I gotta go” I scream to my self.

The day has finally gotten hot, I noticed as I crashed out of the front door heading for the train. It felt good to be on my way home for the weekend. It was only after I had exited the train and I was headed down 300 West that I was thinking about my blog and realized I had not posted and worse yet I may not have saved the post. I know the post was greater then 600 words, a good post, which I hope is not lost. We’ll see on Monday. I try not to think about the post on the way home, convince myself a lost post does not matter—but it does. A good post is a terrible thing to loose.

“Keep your friends close ...

“Keep your friends close and keep your enemies closer”

Don Coreleone

I just got out of a meeting, which in and of it self had little to do with me but could in the long run have a great deal to do with my organization and my phone line. The organization my office is located in is very upbeat and proactive in the disability affairs of this community. This organization has been leading a charge of employment for people with disabilities, really employment beyond tokenism. The bos has been extremely interested in having our phone service being major player with this project an in fact this would make the most sense since we re “ground zero” for all things disability in this area. The main drawback I have felt is that I am just a one and half person operation so we could be greatly impacted my a deluge of phone calls –even though I firmly believe the probability of a deluge is remote at best.

This employment committee is chaired by someone from a local university think tank—sort of a social work Rah, Rah, who has gathered a number of employment interested types one being my boss, and another individual from the community who we as an information and referral system work very close. This runs a most effective operation which serve families with kids with disabilities. This director also wields a lot of power in the community and I have heard her asking question in the community the past year or so about my program and asking some real difficult questions about my operation which have been a bit threatening.

What is interesting is that today at the meeting there was a third player, someone some feel might be an outsides, who thinks she might be an insider or someone who wants to be an insider very badly. This person also runs a major, statewide, generalized information and referral system. This I&R is fairly good, but not nearly as good as the previous director but that is another story entirely. But I could sense some stress rise t the tables as the director took over the meeting selling her own operation. Soon, I felt myself siding with the one person I had been threatened by. In seconds I felt allegineces beginning to shift and old alliances begin to build. Suddenly the whole table went political. I must be very careful now, I have all my “shields” up and I am looking in as many directions as I can and I am feeling the water. To be a player in this “pool” may take more energy then I m welling to expend at this point in time. I may not have much of choice depending at how much my boss gets on board of the whole operation but I may be able to get some credible reporting software which might make a huge difference in our operation here.

History is doomed to repeat itself. I know this. In my short life I have seen this cliché play out too many times. Hopefully this time I can get out of in front of the curve and not get beaned by the ball.

Garage Attack!

Another vacation Wednesday and it’s hot. I really need to get out in the garage and do some wood working. I have been able to do some but I need to get to my power tools now and do some serious ripping and maybe even turning. So, I ended calling Mark A this morning. Mark A informed me he had some things to do but could make a couple of hours to look at the garage. I said that was fine with me-anything would be appreciated.

I had some time so I decided I would post Mom’s weekly at a mailbox in the neighborhood. I jumped into the power chair and was off. I must confess that the letter 90 percent yesterdays blog concerning the backed up sewer. I changed the beginning and of course the ending but the body of the letter was pretty much the same. Is that wrong?

I found the mailbox almost to State street and since I was so close I decided to venture further North and visit the new credit union in our neighborhood. I was totally excited when the built this credit union in the neighborhood because it the credit union where I actually have an account. I went in and transacted some business—just because I could. I cashed a check and pushed onward to the neighborhood Office Depot. I roamed round there for a while looking or bargains or anything I just might desperately need. Finding none I retuned home.

The heat today is already much warmer then yesterday’s. Today is going to be hot and I am going to stay out in the heat for as long as can stand it. I stayed out in the garage when I returned. I had a number of broken hooks which needed repair. As I have indicated elsewhere I can at least access the table vices and my drills and hooks. I can do a little bit of work and I was when Mark a walked into the garage. I am sure that cleaning up his father’s mess of a garage was not high on his list this morning when I called and asked or some assistance. E he came and we launched into the task at hand. We moved boxes and boxes out into the driveway so we could free up some floor space. I was able to find a number of tools I have been missing for a year or so.

Dianne had to take Anakah to swimming and do some business so they took off in the van. Dianne really needs t be at the clean up site to say what stays and what goes but we did pretty good. I did throw drawers, two giant black plastic bag of plastic junk like old Tupperware and other food storage container we have collected and really needed to let go. The important this is that we got task started. We librated my table-saw and I found my two huge rasps which will make working on the wood much more simple.

We still have lots of junk to go through and boxes of magazines, books, tapes and clothes, lots of clothes and we will and who knows I may be even able to access my lathe by August. Mark A moved most of the boxes back into the garage, but now the boxes were ordered and stacked. I had much more room to navigate my space then when I started.

I don’t do well in the heat. I frazzle and today I really frazzeled. I remained in the garage after Mark A had to leave. I continued to mess with some wood and when Dianne got home I finally pushed a few remaining items back into the garage, lowered the door and came into the cool of the house. I was dizzy—this happens when I get super-heated but I am looking forward to spending the rest of the summer in my garage.

The Horror...Thee horror!!!

Yesterday when I rolled in to take my shower, I opened the door and was revolted to find the show stall was full of sewage! One of the many nightmares a home owner has to deal with from time to time. And I am not going to wine to much about being a person with a disability but I am a person with a disability which is a fact of life. I cannot crawl under the house or on top of the house, mow the lawn, clean the garage without assistance. Dianne can only do some of this stuff and everything else we have to ask family or friends for assistance or we have to pay for the service to have this done.

I have to admit I was in shock for couple of minutes as my brain process the magnitude of the present problem: manly no use of the houses bathrooms. Then the trickle down impact and most immediate: how am I going to get ready for and go to work if the first thing to do is shower. I cannot shower. I did the only thing I could do and that was to take a” wash cloth shower” a sponge bath but with a wash cloth. I would just have to stay away from folks all day. I did wake up Dianne who started on a solution and I was out the door.

We have noticed a problem with the house plumbing for the last two months. The sinks began to drain slower and gurgles in the bathtub when the toilet flushes but as long as the amenity basically works we really don’t think much about the problem , just wonder about the problem off and on. Then couple of weeks ago the downstairs toilet started having issues with flushes, the bowel would just fill with water and would flush if plunged or if left to its own devices eventually go down. Since we rarely use this toilet for a host or reasons we did not think too much about issue of the “no flush.” Then last week our upstairs john started having to labor to flush but we finally plunged it down. We could not figure what the problem could be thinking and hoping the problem was the City sewer system.

The scene in our shower on Monday morning was a scene from a Stephen King novel. It was domestic horror: raw sewage floating in the shower. Dianne called and got quotes and went with one company by 1:00 o clock. Bob came out but found his tool was way to small had to call in his son Joey who had the big tool with monster blades, blades big enough to cut through four inch roots.

Joey did his job but it took three passes through with the big cutter to accomplish this. The water was flowing, drains draining and toilets were flushing all is well again. What is weird is the roots are from the weeping willow we cut down last September . Joey was a fountain of knowledge regarding tree roots and septic lines. “The grow even after you cut down the tree and you think they’re dead. It’s kinda cool.”

I don’t know why I don’t remember this because we have to get this procedure done to the sewer line about every two and one half years. Joey went on to say that we would most likely have to follow this schedule for sometime to come until the roots finally died out completely.

Dianne had done this horrendous task in less then four hours and got our life back to normal. Once again everything worked and life was good. There is so much I cannot do thank you Dee Dee for all you can.

Holiday Weekend

Happy 4^th of JULY plus one, we spent a quiet Fourth just hang round the house. Actually I spent sometime in the shop working on my on my sticks which was just perfect but hot. I was going to BBQ but the day was just too hot. Dianne and I did spend time in the morning in the yard figuring out the sprinkler system which Dianne did. My contribution was letting her know when the “sprinks” came on which they did. We had to do the walk around and unearth the sprinklers which had been grown over but we got the task accomplished. So instead of BBQing I got a couple of pounds of hamburger from the freezer and decided to make sloppy joes only to find I had not tomato sauce in the house! I could not believe I had let my essential ingredient for so many of the dishes I create be come depleted. Luckily, we did find a couple of cans of diced tomatoes—which will work but takes much more time and patience. I had pieces of peppers and onion which I diced and through in the thawing and frying meat and then I set the combination to “low” and a couple of hours we had dinner—not as tomatoey as I would have like but not bad.

Last year the neighbor on the corner cut down a huge, beautiful tree, for whatever reson I never found out, but what I discovered with the tree gone I can sit on my porch and watch our fair city’s fireworks. True, watching the display a mile or so away is not as impressive or enjoyable then being directly under launch site but much easier then having to deal with getting to the park and having to wait with everyone else for the evening to get dark enough to launch.; Then worst of all, having to deal with thousands of people trying to leave the park at the same time. The trade off of being home watching the display on your porch is worth not being at the launch site. Plus there is the excite of all the neighbors launching their own fire works. The family who lives across the street has kids who have finally evolved to teenagers, three of them and their friends and what must have been over $100.00 “ safe and sane” fireworks was entertaining, as they all tried to blow themselves up as best one can with sparklers, whistling petes, tanks and what ever cones and smoke bombs they can throw and kick at each other. Then there was neighbors further down the street who must have gone to Evanston for “illegalls” fireworks with a punch! Those which launch, explode and maim but which are exsciting and fun. We still have a drawer full of bottle rockets and Black cats which we never finishing exploding last year when the seniors, next door, starting to threaten local law enforcement if we did not cease and desist. The local news has been reporting all week of new fines and penalties for people caught with illegal fire works up to $1000.00 and six months. I decided against it. Maybe in two weeks when the 24^th of July is celebrated. We have a bunch.

I Think I'll Pass...

I have been keeping an eye on the whole economic thing . I have been watching Market tumble and the crises of the world increase and the U.S.’s involvement the whole mess. I have even felt the stress at home as Dianne has been on disability and have dealt with her challenges medical and legal and somehow I have felt removed from the international crises or any crises for that matter but something has happened and suddenly, yesterday, I have began to feel financial pressure which I can only guess is directly to the war and the ever increasing ripple effect emanating from that conflict.

I use public transit for more then 90% of my transportation needs but I do keep a wheelchair lift equipped van which I drive. I own this vehicle outright so the only payment I suffer is general vehicle upkeep, license and taxes and of course gasoline. As I have said, I have not paid much attention to the price of gas as the price has crept ever skyward, even though I have paid gas “fill-ups” of 60-70 dollars figuring, ‘ well, that’s the price of doing business.” But I paid the bill and felt lucky I could, but did not think twice about it. I have felt this way, I think, because I fill up with gas but once a month if that much. I choose not to drive because I don’t really enjoy driving, driving is work and its dangerous and now expensive. So, I have not really registered the rise in price until last Sunday when I filled up. The price had just gone up again, I bet by almost a dollar since the previous time I had filled my tank. Sunday was the first I had filled up since the price here had topped $4.00 a gallon. When I drove out of Sam’s Club on Sunday I had purchased 23 gallons of gas which was normal but the cost was now $93.00 and some change almost $100.00!!! The oil crises was finally really beginning to hit home. I sat back and stared at the receipt but swallowed the pill and drove home. Still, I knew this gas would last me a month and I can deal with the payment. However, this week the safety inspection came due, I have a crack in my windshield which is becoming major( but I was passed) but all toll the event cost me over $100.00.

Yesterday on my vacation Dianne asked that I go to the market and do some shopping. No problem and I had been wanting and planning to stop at a new market which just opened in my neighborhood. Before I left, however, I checked our accounts and was shocked to see where there were—I was scared for a second which quickly boiled down to concern but after I had done the shopping, I sighed, turned the van round and drove back home. Why go to a market, even just to look, especially just to look if I don’t have any money?

Clouds

Clouds"

From the song "Both Sides, Now

Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I've looked at clouds that way

I love summer clouds, huge cumulus clouds, thunderheads cooking in the afternoon hit , rising to what seems to be miles into the sky. Whip-cream dreams brilliant against cobalt skies. This summer has been so hot, there has been too few clouds. Usually in this area of Utah we are in a monsoon pattern and we would have enjoyed many thunder storms by now. But not this year, days of cloudless hot skies with no break until this week. This week clouds finally started wondering in with promise of thunder, lightening and even rain. Nothing significant has happened until today, today I have seen the most organized grouping of clouds yet. I have even witnessed a few lightening bolts drop out of a massive thunder head which stood right over my office for the longest time.

I can loose myself for hours cloud watching, letting my imagination run rampant as the clouds boil up changing shapes. I try to gage how large the clouds are. The seem huge buy I am blown a way when, by chance, a plane will fly by the cloud mass and give reference to how massive this cloud is when the air craft turns to a small speck in front of a huge backdrop. I have never skydived but had a boss at one time who was into the sport deeply and skydivers have a term for falling through a cloud mass as “cloud punching” I would love to do this: zoom right through a 12000 foot cloud mass. But even more intriguing is what culture or civilization could hide in such a mass. Cloud masses could as cloaking devices for star ships , star fleets and even portals to other dimensions and times.

The weather guys indicates that after today he probability of showers will begin diminishing and the area will return to empty skies except for one lonely tracking cross the blues. We are predicted to hot our first hundred degree temperature days. The holiday should be near 100 degree as well as the weekend but no rain is forecast. I cling to the hope that meteorology is yet a long way from an exact science and what is predicated and what happens, often is two quiet different things. And a butterfly flapping its wings on the gulf coast of Louisiana might just well, bring about a monsoon in Utah.