Sawdust

Mark Anthony was just here. He is off Fridays like me and some times we can get together. I sure appreciate the help he offers when he comes over. Today I had been busy in my computer room destroying it. I had inadvertently backed my power chair into the computer table and knocked off the keyboard tray, keyboard and heaps of paper which had been resting on the keyboard. Mark also picked up my lamp which I had knocked down and broken the neon light ring—which Mark informs me is pretty dangerous from the mercury content. This project would have literally taken all day but Mark was to accomplish the project in a number of minutes.

Mark still had time and I have been wanting to get my table saw hooked to the power source so I can start some more ripping. I have been wanting to replace my sock stick, which I broke a couple of weeks ago. A sock stick is a flat stick I use to stretch over my heal when I am getting dressed. Having a sock stick at the ready can cut five minutes off my dressing time and get me out the door to the train that much earlier.

The day is much cooler then I thought it was to be, and I feel a little bad having Mark work with me in the garage but we got the garage open and the saw out and then had to find a power cord which stretch from the outlet to the saw. We looked through my wood stash and I found a couple pieces of red oak which will do the job nicely. I have a Sears contractor saw and the saw rips wonderfully with gusto and lust and a great shriek, which is the curse of the neighborhood when I fire u the saw on summer weekend morning round 7:00 a.m. I had not had the saw up for a couple of years now but it roared to life when we flipped the red switch. We made the cuts I needed and then Mark made some cuts he needed. But the final cut we were both getting chilled from the late winter’s day. /we both had some great cuts of wood and had played with danger and the roar of manly power tools. We quickly un plugged the saw and pushed the equipment back into the shed. We used my Japanese hand saw and cut the long pieces into more manageable sizes. We made sawdust today the first of the season. I really want to get back into my woodworking this summer. I want to make a few more sticks and hooks and feel the sand working the edges of the cut red oak .

Oh I had another broadcast yesterday., I think it went pretty good. I had a pretty good time. I interview an old friend with whom I had worked for almost twenty years. We both have kind of grown old together. I’ll put a link and you can be the judge.

This Is So Cool!

I have never really been into disability support groups at least for myself—I always thought the support groups sort of flakey, but in the last year or so I have been joining more and more groups like Wheelchair Nation, and Apparelyzed and a couple of disability groups in Face Book. I am finding the peer support from these groups have been helpful. I am not so tethered to these groups that my life revolves round the websites but I am finding interesting. I was amazed yesterday when I found this video for a manual chair which can be powered by an electric drill. I have not been able to find a price on the adaptor but surly the price cannot be as expensive as a full blown electric wheelchair. Still no word on the status of my new chair..sigh

Jr. High Times

Last week I was playing with the idea of setting up a Face Book for my Jr. high school. I found out that someone already had and the members of the group numbered in the hundreds. Interesting most of the members are fairly recent students not a lot of people from my era but some. Since then I have been thinking a lot about those days, in Boise, in the middle of the 1960’s.

East Jr High was an interesting place. I think the only jr high in the Boise system which has rural as well as urban kids. The school was located in South Boise at the time. I was bussed from further South East Boise every day. We had a lot of young toughs—not me I just tried to blend in. There were classic names from my end of town, Pat Rossback, Don Foss, Dennis Ward and Ricky Crabb to name a few. One of the things I remember most were the fights which peppered the weeks of school. When there was a fight either at lunch or after school new of fight would slowly filter through the classes and by fight time, enough students would know to ensure a fairly large crowd. Its not that I went to a lot of these fights but I did attend one or two of the fights. I wish I could remember the fight but alass I cannot, what I do remember I missed my bus home and followed the growing crowd of students, across the street to the ally just West of the cemetery. This ally was about a block away from the junior high. The ally was paralleled on either side by high fences six to eight feet. There must have been thirty to fifty students surrounding the two combatants(it seems to me was Rick Crabb and someone from North Jr. High but I am not sure) It was tight quarters between the fences, kids all crowded round the circle where the fighters circled each other looking for an opening. Again, I cannot recall but seems all of the sudden a couple of Boise City police cars pulled into the north west and of the valley and the crowd instantly panicked and ran towards the other end of the ally when all of the sudden, I see a hand appear on the fence and seconds later the whole body of Mr Loyle Washam landed right in the m idle of the ally. What was just panic turned to shear terror as Washam stood there with hands on his hips. Kids started leaping for the fences like rats deserting a sinking ship. I think I must have somehow gotten over the fence because I know I was not one of the folks who were seized by law enforcement or Mr Washam but I know it must have been close.

I found out later that Loyle Washam was Special Forces not that it mattered but somehow made sense. I had direct dealing with the guy twice. Once he threw me against my locker when in frustration I had kicked my locker when I could not get my Master lock combination to work. I had not checked over my shoulder to see if anyone was round. The other encounter was when I had worn a Beatle wig my mom had won on a local television show. I wore the wig in the hall thinking myself cool, again I was slammed against the wall, the wig forever confiscated and that was that.

So, I have been “googling” his name all morning and found the guy is still alive and seems fairly active in the Idaho political party. He runs a “shrink shop “of sorts and does a lot of birdwatching. Very interesting. I doubt he would remember me. I listed his name as a topic for the Facebook, East Jr.High account. I wonder if it will get any hits.

Feels Like Spring!

There is something about an early Spring, alright, winter about to be Spring morning with sun flooding through my windows, making me think I can do just about anything today. Yesterday, I spent time working on the garage trying to get to my tools and work bench and particularly my table saw-- I finally got to the saw and drug the saw out into the driveway. I had been, half heartily, planned to do some ripping yesterday but could not get the saw to a power source and by the time I had started the project it was too late in the day. I heard noises in the neighborhood, someone pounding and when I went to investigate found the pounding was coming from next door, my bet next door friend Al was busy pounding on his pick up truck’s rear wheel and we talked for the next hour. The day was just cold enough that I moved the table saw back into the garage, closed the doors came back into the house.

But I had been bitten by this late winter early spring day, cool if not brisk but sun clear and direct enough to make one feel warm enough to be outside doing something different some physical. Not only me but I could sounds all over the neighborhood. Kids out on bikes and skateboards little girls screaming those ear piercing and boys yelling one another as they ride their bikes through the hood. It takes me a moment to reorient myself to these new adolescents which were last summers “little” kids. I do believe the mean age of the neighborhood is dropping. I see lots more kids then I gave in a long time in the hood which is nice.

Other’s have been ‘bitten’ as well, Dan across the street is out taking the Christmas lights off the house and messing round in his garage definite signs of seasonal change and Lew next door is out in his land yacht checking the vehicle out—getting it road worthy for where ever he and his friends go each and every national holiday from now till Labor day. I had , a one point, thought I heard a lawn mower fire up somewhere down the street but Al assures me none had but he did look at his lawn and indicate that mowing the lawn might not be such a bad idea even this early in the year. But not yesterday.

I came back in the house and logged back` on my Face Book Account. I am becoming addicted to Face book. I wonder what the need I have and other to reconnect folks I have not thought about in years, using the “see friends” feature to see who else has been identified and then “bounce” them to my” friends” list. But enough of all the virtual stuff, I have to pay some attention to the here and now. I have my cell being charged to make some long distance calls to old friends and relatives today and then I have to spend some time out in the garage on my wood shop and hopefully dig out my chord which will allow me to power up my saw and rip some wood. It feels like Spring like I can do anything!

Happy Birthday Dad

Today is my dad’s birthday. If he had lived he would be 99 years old today. Dad passed away a number of years ago with colon cancer . Dad’s passing was sad but a release for dad as well a hose who cared for him to the last. In all honesty I have not missed dad just up till the last year or so. I don’t mean that I have not missed dad in a man sense I just have not missed him but now I am beginning to miss him, or I am thinking of him more. I have noticed I am dreaming of dad. I think I have had dreams where dad was some part of my dream five or six times this year where before this year I may dreamed of my dad twice.

I am fortunate in that I had a genuinely good dad: rock solid, dependable, hard working in that I had a genuinely good dad: rock solid, dependable, hard working and spiritual. I think dad was pretty concrete in his thinking—not that he could not be abstract if he wanted to or had to be abstract but he preferred to do and accept things as thy were written. I think dad was able to do this because he came from another time. He was born in 1910. The country was still shaking off the 19^th century, The country for the most part was still horse and buggy. You could trade a horse for a car or buy ground for a hundred dollars and build a house, by yourself with your own two hands. You shucked corn and followed the crops putting up hay and milking cows. My dad did all these things. I firmly believe my dad was perfectly honest, my dad was a union man working in the sheet metal trade, heating and air conditioning he loved the fact that people would give him keys to their home and dad would repair the heater or air conditioner then leave with the owner not having to be present. I think the way others perceived my dads honesty was of major importance to my dad.

I asked, my dad, at on time, when I was grown and had left the house and was beginning to become aware how a person sees their life when they have enough years acquired to se what they could have or not have become, what he had wanted to be and he said he had wanted to be a rancher. We had a small farm in South Boise, Idaho for twenty years o so: 17 acres , raised hay, some cows and kids until I twisted. Looking back I can see how my dad loved this farm, milking, making hay, chickens giant garden being rural. I think my dad loved the physical work out the best and being in literal control of a small piece of ground. Happy birthday dad where ever you are—I hope you sitting on some ecclesiastical John Deer cutting hay for all eternity whistling Red River Valley

Tim Burton Roses

A couple of weeks ago, my partner here on the phone lines , Chapman, was offered dozen thrashed roses which Chapman brought to work to live out their last remaining days. Now, Chapman is one of those rare being who finds beauty n many things which other might over look: so it was with these “Tim Burton” roses.

The roses sat in their green vase by Chapman’s terminal even the water the in which the roses stood no longer gave any refreshment resemblance to life . Then Chapman laid hem out on the counter tops like dead soldiers. The petals have crisped now and become brittle requiring anyone who handles these roses to handle them with care because even in their death they retain a mystical kind of beauty.

Born Freak

Remember this weekend? I was waiting for my old boss o drop by and drop off a CD about people with disabilities called “Born Freak” a piece developed by a lad named Matt Fraser, a gnarly little gimp from the Australia but making a little splash( I could not help the pun) who has a lot to say. Fraser was the last thalidomide kids from the 60’s. The guy has a self image, I swear is the size of Texas and bullet-proof self esteem. Fraser is a born actor and show man.

The professor, Dr. C who brought over the tape was a bit concerned that the Fraser material might be too much for students in her graduate level classes and wanted to run the material past me before she ran with the project.

Dr C. burned the CD from a DVD and I was not sure if the C had taken because I slipped the CD into my laptop and nothing happened. This concerned me a little but still this CD was burned by Dr C- so I decided to check and undid the DVD I got for Christmas—Batman. The Dark Night and nothing happened so so where along the lime I have lost the DVD player in my laptop. Loosing the DVD laptop is a bother but may also be a blessing, one with the DVD no working maybe I can settle down and get some work done or , better yet, maybe with the DVD not working maybe its time to invest in a new laptop—one with DVD and a DVD burner.—maybe as the economy continues to ebb South price on new laptops will get even better. So, I drug the CD into the “computer room” where I keep my heavy duty desktop. This machine has tons of power and a great DVD/CD player and of course played “Born Freak” no problem and for the next 45 minute I got a pretty good dose of Matt Fraser.

First, Born Freak is a pretty good piece of work as documentaries go but the document is pretty refined. Born Freak is a fairly cutting edge but nearly as cutting edge as I was led on to believe. The documentary essentially is a piece made for commercial television English as well as for the US markets one can even see where the commercial breaks have been built into the piece. The piece explores the last American Freak shows as Matt Fraser does this he also explores his own life a an person with a disability in the entertainment industry. But still this is OK, just not as raw as I would have liked to see it done. Actually, the piece is done with enough good taste that American networks may even pick it up for one reason or another.

I was surprised when I started Googling Matt Fraser’s name how much work this guy has done and I have never heard of him , Lizz Carr and other fairly significant names in the European disability universe. I can tell I have lots of research to do.

Face Book

I recently started a Face Book account. I have tons of account it seems, on the Internet, but I have started getting into this Face Book thing.

It’s kind of fun. A couple of years ago I post an entry about how the grade school I went to was torn down and how I was bummed that I don’t have a grade school to return to. Then I got this idea—do a Face Book group on the grade school. Campus school in
Boise Idaho 1953-1991. So I have been sending invitation to everyone I can remember and who I have email addresses for. My brother Paul, has responded, which is cool and I am just curious who else well. The risk is when I uncloak, what am I opening myself up for. I have sent a couple of invitations to folks who I doubt will even remember me and if the these folk do remember me how do they remember me and do I want them to know that I am still alive and risk them trying to get hold of me. We’ll just have to see. If this works then I am going to do one for East Jr. High.

Sunday

Its almost four in the afternoon and I have been trying to get hold of my mom all day long. I hope she was at church and then maybe over to one of the brother or sisters for lunch…I hope. When you mom is in her late nineties each time I call and there is no answer I cannot help but think the worse: that mom is in the hospital or worse dead. Things see to progress quickly when a death occurs but I feebly think I would be notified one way or the other if the Dark Shadow swept down took mom “home”. But I have thought I was in the loop before but was not. I am not trying to be a jerk either it’s just a fact that sometimes I get left out of things. So I have to be proactive if I want to be included.

My brother lives just a few blocks away and my mother’s sister lives a couple of miles away and if they heard the worse I am certain they would notify me one way or the other. But what if the worse happened, what if mom’s journey was done, her final rest? As side from trying to figure whether to go to Boise or wait till mom comes here to Santaquin—where she is to be laid to her rest. That’s a no brainer—so I guess I’ll find out one way or the other.

Its been a quiet holiday so far. Anakah just took off from spending the night—I have been able to do a few chores round the house and I think I am going to prepare a pizza for dinner. Dianne has come down with something, seems to have some flu-like qualities. I hope it is not anything too serious. Maybe I will be spared.

Grim Indeed

Any more when the phone rings at home it is bad news or ends up being bad news—especially if the call is on the land line, not so much if the call is on the cell phone but the land line is trouble. A few minutes ago the phone rang and my grand daughter answered the phone. The caller was my old boss, the boss which hired me for the job I currently hold. I have been doing some work for here lately, some lectures for her graduate classes and other projects. Anyway she has a DVD she had developed on disability issues and needs my input on it. She wanted to know if she could drop the disc off tomorrow or the day after. “No problem” I said and that was that.

Our house is currently in “Holiday Mode” or not as straight as the house could be you know, just a little bit messy. The house is in no way available to receive anyone but immediate family and that is iffy. The former boss has indicated she will call before she comes over. What I am going to have to do is intercept her in the driveway long before she gets to the house. I hope I can pull this off. I am hoping tomorrow is fairly clear weather which will help me if I have to be out on the driveway other wide the remainder of th holiday weekend could be grim indeed.

It's Out!!

My week had started with such great excitement when my wheelchair sales guy called to inform me that my new wheelchair had arrived and he needed to make and appointment when I could come down to the shop and be fitted for the new power chair. Yes I was excited but the excitement was guarded because, I have learned from my life that if there I something which can go wrong there is a good chance that that something will go wrong. Well, something kind a did go wrong.
I had made the appointment for the end of the day. Four o clock and I was able to get down to the shop on time. Brent, my sales guy, was actually beaming when he directed me over the brand new piece of equipment the Quantum 6000!
The Quantum 6000 is more complicated then any chair I have ever owned, the sales guy was actually training me to use the chair. The chair which arrived actually had an elevator seat! The seat would raise me up 8 inches, leg rests, raised automatically too. Plus the whole seat will rock back and that is the most important part because this feature will take the weight off my butt—and also the very best part is the chair is super fast which will help me cut all kinds of travel time going back and forth to work. I finally transferred from my chair to the Quantum 6000 and drove the chair round the parking lot then I found out the bad news. Brent said I had to go out to the parking lot o I would have enough to open up the chair to full speed. As you reader know, I am pretty cynical but even I was impressed. The chair has this neat surge system which allows the hair to allow the driver maximum control when moving to top acceleration. No “head snapping back” more of an oozing up to full speed.

The problem came when I tried to get myself and the chair into my van I found the chair was to big to fit into my van—the roof is too low. No matter how far I tried to bend down I would not be able to get me and the power chair in the van- the new chair was useless to me. I guess I would be OK if I never had to use the van but not using the van is really not an option—I use the van at least once a week to go to the market, are if I need to go somewhere for work the buses don’t go I need the van for that or if I go out of state on a trip like to a family reunion I need to be able to access the van for that so I am sending the chair back. The sales guy made some phone calls and got someone from the factory who gave us some positive feed back and maybe we can make this chair work for me. I am going to have to send the entire wheelchair back for the factory to make some adjustments I don’t know how much longer now it will before I can use my new chair hopefully just a couple of weeks. Fortunately the chair I am using now is working very well and will have to continue working well for a couple more weeks.

It's In

Its in!!! My new wheelchair came in yesterday’s freight. The chair is being assembled now as I type and I am going to pick up the chair this afternoon. In fact I have to meet with Brent and techs at 3:30 to fit myself into the chair. So, now I am worried, what if the chair is not what I want, what if the chair I what I want but I will not be able to transfer from my manual chair to the new chair—which I have to do each morning when I motor off too work. What if the chair goes too fast or tips over when I try to turn corners when I am cruising back and forth to work. So many things I have to consider I am almost driving myself crazy. If I cannot make the transfer from my manual chair to the power chair, now, I know that soon I will be able to. I will just have to figure things out and I will, I always do.

Stupid Crip Tricks

I got an email from my buddy Seattle Eric today. Eric has a developmental disability. Eric moved up to Seattle a couple of years ago but we have kept in touch via the internet and Eric always stops into the office when ever Eric is in town. I like Eric, he is a mover and shaker and I am sure will do great things before he live this rock. Any way Eric sent me this great video clip of Aaron Fotherinham another young dudes with a developmental disability: spinal bifida.
I know am going to get into trouble with my earlier “Super Crip” diatribe and how much these super crips turn me off but there are a couple of super crips out there which kinda of fascinate me. I don’t know much about this Aaron Fotherinham person except what I have read on the NET. I think there is a basic difference if what he does as his extreme sport and the other super crips. I understand this Aaron is also on some sort of speakers tour which could shake my confidence in him but he seems authentic and would do his sport regardless of celebrity.

I used to have a lathe

The lathe is gone—my brother came over on Friday and took it away. I had forgotten at how well the lathe was mounted on the door I had the neighbor anchor it to. A lathe is an awkward tool, very gangly when not attached to its base. Carl was over by himself and clearly he was going to be doing all the work and the best I would be able to do is sit by for moral support. He also has a smaller car but a car which has a respectable trunk and he felt that he would be able to get the lathe into his car. He finally opted to remove to remove the machine from the door. It was surgical strike. A man with his tools, bolt by bolt the pieces came off and soon the white door was stripped and left resting on the saw horses. Carl worked quickly with a focus making sure he stored the nuts and bolts where he would be able to retrieve them at a later date. I really had not seen my brother as excited in a while.

As I said I was out for moral support not that Carl needed any, this was an adult version of unwrapping a gift, a manly thing, steal and wood and a bit of grease. The days are warm comparative speaking ; warm especially for the first week of February. I took the time to start shoveling some of the debris which had accumulated over the rains and snows of the winter. Leaves decaying and branches which had been trimmed from trees or small trees which had tries to get a footing over the previous summer but had been wacked down before the winter began the gangly branches and treelets has to be nipped and placed into garage cans. This job would have taken me the better part of the afternoon but Carl saw my struggles and soon had the branches processed and the leaves scooped and placed in the cans waiting for Tuesday when they will be taken away. No word spoken but there was an agreement this was payment for the lathe.

At some point in the morning Mark A called and wanted to stop by with a belated birthday gift. The lathe was process and in the trunk by the time Mark and Jasmine arrived. I was glad to see them. Mark A, could have offered help if needed—very Waltonish-family helping family it warms me. Mark, Jasmine and Carl all let about the same time. Carl rearranged a stock of hard wood, mostly oak, I have scavenged from the mill behind my house—more then I remembered. The wood is neatly organized where the lathe used to sit on the white door, still covered with sawdust knocked off the lathe when it was being removed. I am glad the wood was there for the door, I could tell the door was already lonely and I have to admit I am kind of excited because even with little amount of attention the garage is looking cleaner and easier for me to get round in. One of my palm sanders surfaced and one of my Japanese saws; I can reach my table saw and I think I’ll be out ripping in a few weeks when the weather warms a little. My older brother assured me that I was welcome to his garage anytime. Any time.

I was supposed to have given Carl a couple of thank you card from my granddaughter, Anakah for Christmas gifts and other niceties Cark and his wife, Jean, have done for her but I had forgot to deliver so on my errands yesterday I stopped by his house to drop them off. Carl was on his way to a soccer came. He had not had time to mount the lathe but wanted be to come by in a couple days or weeks and see the operation. That was cool, I was just on my way to the store and I thought I would drop by. No big deal. I used to have a lathe.

Turn Free as Free as the Wind Blows...

I do wood working. I mean I am not good at wood working but I like to get out in my garage where I have a very rudimentary wood shop and make saw dust when ever I can. I have really only been doing wood with a vengeance for the about the past 15 years. It all started one day when I was catching the bus home from work, when I still worked for the Independent Living Center—I was catching the bus on State street and I was sitting infront of a Pawn shop and the shop had a whole table of tools , hand tools, they were trying to sell: hammers, screw drivers, pry bars and chisels, wood chisels. I picked up a very used, but very righteous looking chisel and the tool just felt good in my hand. The edge of the chisel looked dull so I bout a whet stone as well maybe three dollars for the entire purchase and went home to my apartment.

The next couple of months I purchased sand paper, a vise, a small hand saw I just started turning into wood fiend. Even if I would have had my hands I doubt I would have been a better woodworker, but that did not matter. I had to work on wood. A couple of years later I was married and had a mortgage and the house had a small garage where I set up shop and then really went crazy, I purchased electrical drills, sanders, hand saws and a table saw. I was really making saw dust now but still I could not make anything like a shelf, chest of drawers hardly anything useful. I had found a wood mill not far from my work where the mill threw away literally tons of wood monthly. I started taking trunk loads of the oak home with me on the weekends and messing with the wood. I found I could make sticks. I rasp and sand pieces of wood and twist bicycle hook in the end and make a reaching device for wheelchair and short people.

My wood working addiction finally pinnacled when I purchased a full sized wood lathe from Sears. I got my neighbor to anchor the lathe to door I had laying round the garage and soon I was turning, really turning. Like everything else I was not very good but with enough power and a little practice I could do significant damage to a piece of wood, ending up with around, smooth rod apply a hook and I had a very nice reaching instrument. For one reason or another my garage became the resting place for a lot of junk and debris—I was not able to work in the winter do to lack of heat and soon my lathe was totally inaccessible. Family tried to help but the garage was just too messy.

This year my older brother retired. Now my older brother is a real wood worker, like my dad, my neighbor and Frank at work. I noticed my brother was slowly converting his garage into real wood shop. A couple of weeks ago when my brother had to rescue me from the market when my van died I started thinking that my brother could use wood lathe. My lathe needs to turn—even as much as I used my lathe I have not used my lathe very much. So, I made the call and let my lathe free. Carl came over and picked up the lathe today. He is excited, I am excited to see him excited and see that my lathe will be turning again like it should. Carl says he will put the lathe where I can come over and use it—when ever I want—we’ll see. I may just go bsck to rasping my pieces of wood smooth—it’s a lot less dangerous.

Sigh!!!

Right now, this very minute my computer is reporting that it is 52 degrees, there are literally rivulets of water running off this “now mountain across the street in the parking lot where all the snow from the last decent snow storm has been dozed up. I know this is un seasonally high temperature just the warm up which is preceding tomorrow’s storm but still it great to see the people walking round with out coats and some even in shorts or cut offs. Tomorrow the forecast is calling form rain mixed with snow and a high of 45 degrees—so even if there is snow, the snow will not be sticking round.

No word on the chair, actually there was some movement a few weeks ago when I was informed that my new power wheelchair would be in last Friday , it was not. I did not even call last Friday but I did call Monday and Brent my wheelchair guy said he would get on “it” tacking down what my chairs disposition is. I have not heard back from Brent and now it’s getting to be late after noon Thursday and I don’t work tomorrow, which would make it perfect foe me to take ownership of the chair…if it is in. I am OK if the chair is not in or does not come in for a while longer, as long as I have the renter chair from the Independent Living Center. I wonder if the reason I am not more excited about the chair being in is because I am frightened that I am going to be disappointed when the chair does come. I have always been disappointed in getting things I have ordered or asked for i.e. Christmas or birthday presents what ever I wanted was never what I ever got. I am sure it was my poor communication skills or coming from a low-income environment. The best example was 10^th birthday, 1959 I wanted a rifleman, ring handle Winchester repeater rifle by Mattel. The rifle and a device in he handle you could flip forward and the trigger would be pulled every time you cocked the lever—just like Lukas McCain’s in The Rifleman and not only did the lever work but shells were ejected as you worked the lever just like Mc Cain’s but I got a knock off, a big rng which automatically pulled the trigger but no shells and you could move from “auto to single “fire operation. I was disappointed but eventuall grew to love my version of the rifle—but I have the same dread now, there’s going to be something wrong with the chair when it gets here I just know it one way or the other the chair will just not be right. The bright side of the issue is that I know that eventually I will accept the chair, make door with the chair and eventually I will grow to love it just as I have had to do everything else.

Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday, again!! I am nearing sixty, which I find hard to fathom. I don’t feel like I think a person nearing sixty should feel but the numbers are there and yesterday I turned 58 years old. My boss was ill yesterday too, if she had been here we would have gone to lunch, as a staff, which is fun, a place of my choosing. I was dreading making the choice because, even though the office is located downtown, there really is not a lot of places to go with walking distance of our office and since I am at work in my power chair, its not as if I can load up into a vehicle and go some where. But, this ended up being a mute point since my boss was too ill to come and hence no lunch—however, staff did buy doughnuts and that was just as good.

As I said my boss was ill yesterday and did not come which was too bad because my boss always providers a gift, a good gift too. My boss is cool in that she actually gives gift, thoughtful gifts. I have never had a boss who gave real gifts. So, no boss no gift and work was work. Today is a major meeting the office has every other month and this month the meeting is even larger since the legislature is in session and part of the meeting is to meant to expose people we serve to their legislatures in hope of making some positive changes for people with disabilities. So the meeting too is up at the state capitol building. So the boss drags her self in for the meeting and indeed has the gift to present to me in a break in the whirlwind of action caused by the staff as they get ready for today’s meeting. I am called into the office and with what staff is at the office sing the mandatory “Happy Birthday” and the “present sack” is thrust into my hand with the trendy cute card. It was fast and fun and over before as I opened the sack and pulled out cans of meat I am sure I have discussed with staff at one time or another in the 10 plus years I have been at this office. I have to admit I was delighted: Spam, Corn beef and Vienna sausages all in the can. So often I am left grousing round the office looking for something I can make a lunch out of and here fixens for lunches made in paradise. The boss had found the perfect gift. She is really incredible.

A Little Help Please??

I don’t know what happened but the end of the month just sort of got away from me and before I knew it was the end of the month It was the weekend and I was away from the downtown area I usually inhabit at work. Usually the last week of the month I purchase the sticker which goes on my transit I.D. for the next. As you can see from the image it the sicker is small and a bit of am challenge if your fingers are infirmed in any way. Usually the awkwardness of the sticker is not an issue since the clerk whom sells me the sticker realizes I have dexterity issues and goes ahead and placed the sticker in a small in a small brown envelope along with the receipt I have to present to the State in order to be reimbursed. Really no big deal except for today, I cruised over to the downtown transit center over lunch. The person I usually purchase my pass from was having problems with her credit card reader so I went to the other receptionist. I ask for a sticker and dig my bank card from my back pack. She in turn takes one sticker and places the sticker on the counter in front of me. As most of you know I have quadriplegia which severely limits the movement and dexterity of my hands, so I wait there thinking that once I have paid for the sticker and placed my bank card back into my wallet. I looked up at her like a dog sitting in front of his dog dish waiting for some processed horse meat so I asked her if I could have one of those cool little envelopes to put my sticker in ? A light distantly flashes on and she whips one of the little brown envelopes down on the counter infront of me and I waited thinking she would scoop up the sticker and place the sticker into the little brown envelope—it was not going to happen So I asked if she would or could she place the sticker in one of the brown envelopes? She did one of those “Oh! Did you need something like that” takes—like this is what I do every month. I know this person has seen my process in the past. So she grabs the sticker stuffs it into the envelope. I sense now this is going to be a battle, I gird up my figurative loins and ask for the receipt—she dutifully whips out two small receipts. In the past the receptionist has also folded the receipts and stuffed them too into the little brown envelope. I decided to use the shame approach so I sat there trying to pathetically fold these two tiny pieces of paper to a size I could get them into the envelope but my gimped out fingers ere not going to let this happen. So I finally sheepishly looked up and asked for some help. Then she really did the “eye roll”, expelled a breath air like Mack truck setting its braked and snatched the receipts and envelope and stuffed and at last handed me the packet which I stuffed into my wallet and stuffed my wallet into the back pack and bolted for the door. Done for another month.

Chapman, who I work with, always reminds me that I could have this sticker sent to me in the mail if I were just to go on line and order it. This on line stuff just seems so complicated but after today I just might try it next month.

The Recession Becomes Real

It’s starting: the crises economy is finally hitting home. Thursday morning we had a staff meeting with our gut from Information Technology(Terry) who helps with questions we have with software and stuff. Actually a camera guy, or has been our camera guy who has helped our parent office do some video recording. We have another IT guy Doug. Whom I have worked directly with maintaining the website I have done for state for the past 10+ years. Doug is pretty good, some what distant but you have to be exact, keep on his case until he gets the problem fixed and not be afraid to fire an email off to his supervisor if need be. I really only had to send the email once. Even so it was a surprise when word filtered down to our office that good old Doug had been escorted from his office early last week. Doug is a real straight shooter I really doubt he has done anything out of line—this draconian style of eviction from one’s job place is how industry is enforcing the bad economy. Word later came down that Doug had gotten 8 grand in severance which is pretty good and the lad has talent which will allow him to either get hired or do some part time work. There is actually some part time work with State that Dough is going to be doing. But still this incident is a direct result of the recession. I have to admit up until this reduction in force this whole recession thing was something somewhere a long way away. Though my brother C., recently went through similar treatment when Pitney Bowes downsized him. I guess the fact that C. was about ready to retire anyway that the impact did not hit me as hard. But Doug’s termination was real, a state employee like me, gone a victim of the economy

A day after learning of Doug’s fate a small group of staff were having coffee and discussing the event and we started playing that weirdly intriguing game, “Worst Case Scenario” or WCS. We are a small office a very small office, and if we get some of the cuts to our budget the /state has been announcing we could be disseminated. My budget is OK for the time being I need to worry come July which would be the beginning of my new fiscal year. I need to be getting my vendors on board tio see who will or will not come across with funding next July and if so what do I need to prepare in our out of state. I was totally surprised to hear that my boss has been making plans for the WCS. I really doubt anything would happen to her or her position. Actually is so well connected she could be absorbed to work somewhere in the system. But the boss has options, and I found that I too had options. I don’t now how realistic the options are but I found the crises just may not be as bleak as I had anticipated. I would have to do some real hustling but I believe we, Dianne and I, would make it with house and vehicle in tact.

Playing Worst Case Scenario was a great exercise for me and I hope the rest of the staff-I think the best part was to actually face the boogey man: recession; and really talk about how an what if the recession hits home to me.