I Am Waiting

I promise I'm not going to write this entire blog on “pie hole” I'm not exactly sure what that means but it's a reoccurring part of a dream that I have noted in the past couple months. It's not a bad dream for say but it's something that wants to be said and come out but I'm not quite sure how to do it. What I can remember at this point in time it has something to do with a possible television series idea. Not that I have the skills to develop such a beast but at the time on waking after such a dream it all makes sense. I would really be wise if I can gather my senses enough to at least reach over and grab my cell phone and dictate my thoughts after such an awareness. This must be an important concept because I keep referencing the idea to myself. And if I know myself I will continue to do so until I pick up the baton.

This is one of my favorite times of the year, it's still early spring and since everything is changing season lies the Wasatch front is experiencing warmer days than usual… Whatever usual is anymore. Even though I know such warm dry weather is not necessarily advantageous or healthy for the planet and the Wasatch front this time of year I'm certainly not going to badmouth warm weather dry conditions in the afternoon storms. I can't remember and to lazy to do our recent search of blog postings about trying to go to the market late last Saturday night you remember, I was building the meatloaf for the following Sunday. I needed to go to the market but because my secret side gate opener is not functioning I couldn't get out. We are gated community and the only way out would've been through the front doors which means I would have to go half a block in the lake darkness to access the market or cut through the park again in the darkness which for some reason spooks me that late at night. I mean I would've done it if I was desperate but not that desperate. I didn't go to market till the following morning, Sunday, the Sabbath and even then it was a challenge because because of the virus to market does even open till 10 AM! Unbelievable. So my question now is to bring enough pressure to bear on management to repair the secret side entrance to this facility.

I had thought I had done fairly well with this project last week maybe a week and a half ago when I initially brought this forward. They made noises then (the front staff in mind you at this time of social distancing front staff is all but disappeared at our facility) anyway I found the got some response saying that the part had been ordered and we're just waiting. This reassurance certainly left me with the idea that management front desk knew what was going on. I've been somewhat disappointed each day as I've gone out and tested the gate only be exposed to the high piercing shrill of whatever's going wrong with the poor electronics. (Now that we are in the 70° weather cycles I often go out in the parking area close to the gate to read in the afternoons many times I checked the gate then). I've somewhat given up hope knowing that eventually something will happen and it will get repaired. This morning as I rolled past the front office one of the staff called my name and asked that I checked the gate recently with the assumption that it had been repaired. And yesterday I did not check the gate, I just read my book and enjoyed the weather. However, I had to confess that I had not checked the gate and zoomed out down the hall out the back door on the sidewalk over to the gate and a hit the open button only greeted by a high shrill. Alas, I was right nothing that happened which sort of raise the thought in the back of my mind they don't know what I'm talking about which means they're not really paying much attention to me. Anyway, I zoom back in the staff are still in a little grouping with the main maintenance guy Ted sitting there. Ted had done something the day before adjusted the gate swing which I think is how the gate opens up but had no idea that the electronics were at fault. So I drug them back to the gate and showed him the issue. He was enlightened and astounded and concerned as he touched the mechanism I assume some type transformer which is hot to the touch which means that something is wrong. “Something's been ordered in”. It seems like somebody checked and ordered something but that something hasn't come yet and like Lawrence Ferlinghetti I'm just waiting…

Taking Care Of Business

My stimulus check came yesterday! Yes, that's right I got a stimulus check I still cannot hardly believe that one came to me, but it did just like the news report said that it would. Now, as a good American, I need to go out and spend this money which I think I'm going to do but I think a little sock the majority into my savings and transportation accounts. I feel a little guilty actually even using this money because it's really going to increase the national debt so much I can't even think about it. However, in the short run and gun be selfish and not care. I'm going to order items that I use on a daily basis to an threefold just so I have reasonable backup if and when the economy goes south again and I fully believe the economy well. I'm still thinking there's a sucker punch out there coming and silly humans who do not have the patience of stamina to stay in space in place social distance is set ourselves up to get whammied . We are so stupid as a species, really should've gotten as far as we did for have come. I am also thinking of getting a hair trimmer may be some form of food processor. $1200 seems like a lot of money and I guess it is but when you think of all the things you could get stuck much money at all. I'd really like to get a new tablet 10.1 or largerBut I don't really need that I don't think.

I don't really need any close to speak of right now except maybe a couple more colorful summer things. And perhaps keep the hope alive that the administration is going to do another stimulus bump in a couple of months. Perhaps if the stimulus comes towards fall or early winter I can get some colorful/fashionable functional pieces of clothing. Right now however I'm also going to get some bedding, backup sheets and some fun things like a superhero's comforter and matching sheets. I may even invest in some fun foods like real steaks, seafood And interesting pieces of beef. Maybe stay away from the food bank. At the chance of sounding elitist going to start a food that I want to eat not food that is given up at the food bank however fund that might be to receive. I've got ton of stuff in my freezer that I don't think I'm really going to eat just because it was foisted on me I took it. I know I sound pathetic but such is life know who you are.

So I've got my stimulus check, I'm one of the crowd, I don't have anywhere to spend it except Internet shopping which is okay. I don't have a problem with that especially since it just shows up in front of my door I just have to put whatever I purchased away. This event will probably be the larger part of my spring. I'm thankful. I'm still being social distant as the good American should be our world citizen. But, I have to admit things are getting old. I need to get back in the world I need a new pair of glasses and get back into taking care of business…

Social Distance Tuesday

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I think one of the things I miss most with this social distancing thing is my Tuesday morning Assist, Inc. citizens advisory meeting. It's not a big deal, the meeting, we get together and allocate funding the folks with low income or special needs to assist them with their property needs. Everything from water heaters, roofing repair and accessibility needs like doors made wider for wheelchair use, grab bars, role in bathrooms and of coarse, access ramps. We had been meeting weekly for years and then a couple years ago started meeting every other week. The members of this committee have been in place for literally decades. I'm one of the younger participants and now in becoming one of the older participants as our members age and move on to that great nonprofit in the sky.

Tuesday morning him on my own, no healthcare people to help me get up a shower or anything like that. This is a data can be totally independent and I quite love that actually. However nowadays that doesn't matter a whole lot because I'm just hanging out here at the apartments staying busy with my projects and I have enough to keep me busy until this Covid virus thing moves on. I assume that the virus will be taking care of one where the other given enough time. I'm okay, I have rent covered more food than I can deal with and working with projects want to get finished before I pass on to that great nonprofit in the sky. Right now the big project for me is scanning all of my images, photographs onto my hard drive. I want this visual history to be where people can access it when it's time I need time especially the kids, my kids, And possibly maybe even the grandkids if they so desire. Before you do this right I guess I would include paragraphs describing what's going on with each image fight could be that creative. Right now, I just want to get the raw data onto the hard drive and then I will start the arduous task of moving each image into its own group. If not for social distancing and social isolating I don't think I would have gotten to this task. One of the reasons I'm working relatively feverishly on the task is that if the lock-down or isolation decrees are lifted and people can begin to move around again I may not be so agreeable to such a tedious project of the scan in.

The task is even getting challenged now because finally, beautiful spring weather is invading the great Wasatch front. Today temperatures are to be in the mid-70s, this is a gift, and I plan to be outside doing something even if just reading in the sunshine in exposing my feet to ultraviolet rays which I'm hoping might assist my feet. For some reason the skin is peeling off of my feet. We defoliant my feet as much as we can every shower I take at least a home health person is. It's taken a lot of skin off but it still continues to peel I don't know if they'll ever be cured. I kind a suspect the culprit might be my shoes. Maybe I need to expose my shoes to the sunshine and healthy UV's might do something to them. I just noticed my diet dressed/foot guy is still working maybe I need to schedule an appointment and go down to have my feet look that by professional…

Broken Mug Broken Heart

I wish my home health person could get here earlier. I think she really tries to get here at 7 AM but it is very rare that that happens. It's more likely at 730 or 7:45 AM that she gets here and that's okay, I really don't have anything else to get to reduce specially during this time the social isolation/social distancing still however even with the fact that she may even give me up to 45 minutes free time when she comes it still makes it pretty late the time I get dressed, medicated had my breakfast and ready for the day it's at least 10 o'clock and by then most mornings gone. I don't mean to complain because I have it really good. I usually accept what's on my plate and I'm happy about it especially on Monday mornings feeling so good and ready to conquer the week. But still its time for me to start my workout then maybe try to scan's more images. I need to do some drawing, and more than anything get outside and get some UV rays on me.

I broke my heart this morning. I was up early puttering around waiting for my own health person, Annette, to arrive. I was doing my usual day my coffee measured out and watered up and ready to go. As I did so, inadvertently I brushed the dish rack on the side of the sink where I had a number of items stowed from washing. What are those of my favorite coffee cup, a sturdy ceramic piece with the image of the poster Café Martin which I've basically found out was a poster of a famous Café in Paris and I assume there's probably some sort of vestige of this establishment in New Orleans. I think I've held onto the piece because it is a left over from my marriage which I hesitating to let go. I also think having access to such a piece of ceramic makes you feel “cool”. I'm pretty shallow that way. Anyway, I brushed the rack and of course Café Martin was on the edge and the mug tumbled to the concrete floor and thank goodness did not shatter But broke into two pieces. What I said the broke coffee cup on the floor Kind of broke my heart but I guess like all things I knew it was going to happen one way or the other. I did of course put the pieces back together just to see how they would fit and actually they fit quite well very snug against each other and I'm sure with the right kind of chemical bonding agent will make a fairly acceptable piece of art to gaze on. I don't know how credible it would be as a drinking vessel but that's explorable too. I also found for eight dollars and $7.98 shipping fees I could get a new mug (though not as big and not as personable). So now I'm just going to wait and see. Of course show Dianne the destruction and she may have some bonding agent and the repair might be a good task to do together.…

Dinner

Day before yesterday I was fortunate enough to score a 3 pound chub of ground turkey at the sharing shelf. I'm kind of getting into ground turkey over this last winter. I used one Pound of ground turkey I got from the sharing shelf and mixed it with a pound of hamburger. Typically, I would never have used ground turkey. I thought ground turkey was horrible are gross to say the least but to my surprise the mixture of these two proteins resulted in what I felt was a near perfect beloved. A meatloaf with juicy soft texture and great flavor. It's not that I'm a hamburger purist I think I kind am still but I am really beginning to enjoy mixing the turkey. Anyway, my idea was to take the chub break it into three 1 pound

Packages freezing two and then produce a meatloaf for Sunday dinner.

I knew that Dianne likes my meatloaf in fact she says she loves my meatloaf so I gave her a call and invited her for dinner. Seemed like a perfect thing to do for a Sunday afternoon for two seniors at something else to do. I was kind of excited. My new thing to do when cooking is to prepare as much of a meal the night before as I can. I thought sure I had everything that I needed but on closer inspection I realized I did not have a working green pepper. The green pepper I got last week was toast I found green pepper and onion from a breakfast I made a couple weeks ago in the back of the fridge all slimy and gooey. It was 9 PM on Saturday night. I so much wanted green pepper that I was going to head out to the market but guess what? I couldn't get out of the building like to gather building but were gated community and all the gates are closed and the only one gate that I have controls for doesn't work. I suppose it could've got out the front door which it be totally circling around the block which I could've done but I elected not to. I figured I could get up early and run across the street market.

I was up early but I figured the market had gone to specialized hours because of the Coronavirus. I was right I finally got out of here around 7 o'clock figuring that was a good time. Boy, was I wrong the market was closed uptight. In fact I couldn't even tell if it was going to open today was so confused. I thought perhaps I could catch the bus going southbound to a couple markets on 5400 S. but when I checked the bus schedule that bus wouldn't be there till 9:45 AM!. I actually rolled to a Wendy's and got a breakfast sandwich I went back and read the door and found a notice which indicated they opened at 8 AM and it was now 7:45 AM. At 8 o'clock I went to the door, I could see people moving around inside, but the door was an opening finally a young woman who I guess is management that she had keys to open the door let me know that the market was an open till 10 AM! That's when I begged her for green pepper and she actually got my one what kind person.

I was so pleased the meatloaf when together quickly and I put it in refrigerator to put into the oven at 12 o'clock (we're planning on eating at 1 PM). Dianne brought vegetables, potatoes I can't remember the name they were great and a beautiful desert and Jeff would cake with lemon covered in the meringue toasted. It was a perfect lunch we watched Netflix after four perfect afternoon. It was an adult Sunday may be a senior Sunday. We sat next to each other enjoyed the meal, cleaned Up and went our way.

Blink of an Eye

As with most things at this point in my life I'm somewhat conflicted regarding my allegiance to the school I graduated from Borah high school. Conflicted, I say because as the dedicated reader of this blog is well aware I was born and bred to go to Boise high school the crosstown rival. I cannot state how committed I was to Boise High. Five of my siblings older than me graduated from Boise High, all the kids that I went to junior high school with pretty much fed into Boise high as well. In grade school (though I didn't really think it through half of the student body went to Boise high and the other half went to Borah). It took me forever to figure that last bit out. But because I went and broke my neck I was condemned/as well as blessed To have attended Borah high school. To make matters worse because of the accident and the time I spent in the hospital then and rehabilitation I lost a year. I should have graduated with the class of 1969 alas that did not happen but I was able to sneak out with the class of 1970.

Interesting, this week I was contacted by an old friend of mine from junior high Biz Peterson. I think I've talked about this project I'm doing right now of scanning all my photos onto my hard drive which is allowed me to ponder all the kids to put together a photo album for me during that time. When I left ninth-grade that spring I fully anticipated hooking up with all these people the following fall at Boise high well , that did not happen. I lost contact with my friends for the next 20/30 years. It was so cool Biz said I should come to the 69 graduation. That really made you feel accepted and I needed that. I was surprised how good that maybe feel.

I was totally welcomed by the kids in my class at Borah when I started. Borah high was built in the late 50s or early 60s and was modern built on one level whereas Boise high built around 1910 was built on the old University campus concept with multiple buildings and multilevel buildings long before elevators were considered for school or university settings. Boise school district made the decision of what high school I had to attend. Once I got over my silly pride of not being a Boise Brave I fit in as well as I could, and a wheelchair in a class of 1200 students. My parents, I believe are just glad that I finished high school at all. I did not realize I had a choice. The other two friends of mine that I went to rehabilitation with did not graduate high school (well Gino eventually got his GED and I think graduated from college) but if you are a spinal cord injured adolescent in those days graduation wasn't big on your list I guess. My mom and dad didn't let me have a choice I was going to school and I was going to graduate and then I was going to college.

Wish I could say it was easy doing this high school thing. I wish I'd done better I wish I had had better skills academically and supports. It's hard going to a school you are raised to hate as well as being miles from your home. But somehow I got through. Hope I didn't get a sympathy diploma they really wouldn't surprise me that I got it just the same and that got me into college and university. I'm glad someone, my mother no doubt, had the wherewithal to grab a picture before graduation. This was taken in the yard of our farm. Notice, there's a great shot of table rock over my shoulder. That really was a great night and I did feel special for a little bit…

Cousins

One of the things I miss most at this point in my life is my relationship with my cousins. Cousins: that variety of relative closest to brother or sister whom, usually you don't live with, but would if you had the chance when you're a child. I never knew my cousins on my father's side very closely, not like the relationship I had with my mother's sister's kids. It was a geographical thing all my dad's people lived in Canada which is another story entirely. My moms sisters lived right there in Boise with us so we had close access to my cousins. And I hate to have to qualify but remember these are adopted cousins. I was fortunate to be adopted in this family from before my birth which again is another story almost book length I'm sure.

Growing up, it seemed my cousins are always there, their mothers would come over and visit with my mother and we were left for hours it seemed like the we would rome around the house in the yard and just hang out. Later on as everyone grew older and the cousins moved further and further away it seemed we only got together on major holidays Thanksgiving, Christmas and usually Fourth of July are probably more to the fact 24^th of July Or Pioneer day. Major events in our families calendar. Later on, the cousins grew even further apart as everyone seemed to age especially parents. Then the only things that seem to get everyone together where funerals of the Fountainhead's months the grandparents are gone so are the cousins . Some went to college, some got married and some just drifted away. However now with all the social technology which is available I've made some efforts at outreach and at least have been able to contact some of these folks. It's one of those things I have to be careful about. I don't think my cousins have the same affectionate memories of our youth as I do. The occasionally like to be remembered when I reach out and send them a text, email or phone call. They seem excited we talk about meeting up in getting together. I have one cousin who I really like who lives not far from here actually in North Salt Lake maybe closer to Layton. He's retired of course obviously make decent money doing better than I did for the financial standpoint. I've reached out a couple times almost begging to get together but nothing's happened yet. I understand people are busy with their lives but still I love to get together and hash out memories and feelings gone by.

The grandparents are gone now especially my mom who was a major driver in family functions and get-togethers. I'm afraid this family of mine is slowly disintegrating and that's okay I guess after all I was just an add-on somebody welcomed into the family through some weird sets of circumstances. That's what makes this family to me even more special. They didn't have to accept me like most families you're born into. They just let me blend in along with the rest of my brothers and sisters for whatever reasons my mother had adopted us and now were all family. I have another family that I don't know that I just have found in the last couple years. This is kind of weird but the blood family kind of scares me and it's like I had no choice boom there I was. I wonder what kind of cousins I would've had had my mother not given me up to the family I love.

Seminary

Thursday's don't feel like Thursdays anymore. There's no more coffee social on Thursday mornings at 9:30., Also because of social distancing there is no book club on Thursday afternoons. So what used to be a busy Thursday I'm working on home projects such as scanning photos into my hard drive and organizing my photo life. Actually all things being equal this is the best I've done on this project. For a number of years now I've tried to get this project off the ground. Now, I'm actually doing it, kind of. My goal at the onset is to just get the images on the hard drive and into generalized categories like “Families”, “friends”, “50 Years A Quad” etc. When I don't have a folder to stick something in I make one and like I said so far I've had more progress than ever before.

One thing which is somewhat counterproductive but quite a bit of fun is to find an image that a number of individuals would be interested in and then sending them copies of the image via Facebook or to their cell phone. I've been able to make contact with a number of folk I haven't communicated within half a century. I don't know how much this communication will continue but it's been grand touching bases and getting a little feedback on what's been going on with their lives. This of course takes away from my main project of scanning but maybe that's okay too. Perhaps the point is to make social distancing survivable. I have to admit there's also the added benefit of developing more ideas to blog about or history to write. For example:

In the image of the Seminary class I have posted above. Seminary is a Mormon religious class high schoolers are highly encouraged to attend. More often than not seminary is held in the morning before first-class. This is my ninth grade seminary class. I'm the guy in the black rimmed glasses in the third row the two guys just beneath me Kim and Greg we had been friends for years. These two were fairly dedicated to visit me in the hospital right after my accident. I was still pretty much in critical care in what was called a striker frame and for some reason I desperately wanted Col. Sanders Kentucky fried chicken from the joint I had just started working at when I had my accident. I encourage the two to take money from my wallet and get me a bucket of chicken which they did that were caught on the way in. Of course could not of had the chicken even had they made the delivery. The chicken pilot killed me that they were committed to me and I've never forgot that commitment.

This incident happened more than 50 years ago now it feels like the blink of an eye. We've all people got our own ways and in many different directions. However, I keep the warm spot in my heart for these folks from another lifetime many years ago…

Flash Back

Downtown, by Petula Clark

I'm actually quite pleased with myself with the progress I making on the image scan project I'm doing with all my photographs. However, I'm having the same problem I have when I try to arrange my small but interesting library of books is that I wander into one volume after another and sort of lose Track of what my end goal is which is arranging my books. The same is happening now with photographs as I wander through the different images each sparks different historical references in my brain and soon I'm off on tangents carried back to other points in time where there is no social distancing.

The image I have chosen at the top of this posting stopped me in my tracks today when I was going through images. This image was taken just a few weeks before the accident which so remarkably changed my life in 1966. In the image my brother and his wife who would been visiting from North Carolina for a week or so was packing up getting ready for the return trip. The cars parked in front of our house on our little farm their in Boise, Idaho. Notice my hair, the closest thing to a Beatle haircut that I could manage at that point in time. Physically I was probably at the high point of my life. I was ready to start high school, is going to work out in gymnastics and of course wrestle which I did fairly well. Wrestling would be totally different on the high school level but I'm sure I would've done all right. I was pretty confident as any teenage boy is. I kind of had a girlfriend, I had a motorbike and a license to drive as well as a method of starting my older brother's bike (which is what got me in all the problem of disability). I was even starting my first real job I was on top of the world. This image I think captures this point better than any of the things my life. This image shows the yard I had to mow every week on Saturday. The bushes on the other side of the swing set by the lilac bushes I wrote about last week. On the other side of those bushes is one of the fields of hay that we raised for cattle we milked and raised for meat. The whole hay gathering process is quite a task and we did a 3 to 4 times a year over the summer months.”Downtown” the song by Petula Clark was on the radio and made me feel good every time I heard it as it does now.

Today I processed between 10 and 20 images over the course of the day. I know it's not a lot but it is kind of slow going because when I scan one the images on to the hard drive I have to edit each photo to make sure I take off all them edges that takes a bit of time. The process is slow if it's going to be done right. Then I usually knock off around three afternoon because my new shows start at that point time on NPR. So between NPR local and national news on the TV and making dinner that's usually the end of my days progress on the photo project. So far however I'm keeping my focus and because of social distancing there's nothing else going on in my life so I'm glad to have something to do and well the part of the record of my existence…

Scan *Baby Scan

I started a long-term project, in fact the project I never cease I've accumulated hundreds of photographs the years and these are just my collection. I mean my mom had a zillion more photographs of family and family functions that withered away over the years. The items I have those life required over my lifetime partially through efforts of my mom and her, never ending quest to make sure that everyone had their own family album, over and over and over again. Many of these problems disintegrated over the years are at least pages any albums have, the images are still around but of all come away from the pages and I said, “I felt a couple of boxes”. Over the years I've just joined this collection with me wherever I gone and usually, unless there's something specific I was searching for what leave the box untouched. Every once in a while but I would be looking for something else in my stack of belongings, I would have to move one of these boxes and invariably start going through and reminiscing. The last apartment organization once again surfaced these boxes and I made a quasi-commitment to somehow put order to these documents. If I needed a reason, besides my own peace of mind I played with the idea of putting together a CD-ROM are data stick some sort that would have all these documents are all family documents particularly for Mark and Michelle of the images of their childhood that I have. Charles and James but also be included in the mess but I would allow Mark Anthony R Shelley to ferret out Who gets what or what ever .

I've tried this project before but ours got overwhelmed and with the project decide defeated by the complexity. I'm not for another try however and I think this time I might great inroads. I've developed a rudimentary filing system on my hard drive which I think is going to work. I think if I open enough holders and depositing like images and each of these folders I will have something to work with. Visit with my computer and the process is tedious and takes a great deal of patience. I don't think I have had the patience in the past now with Social distancing and personal quarantine I have developed the focus I need for this project at least for now. I think I wrote earlier about the images collected by my friends during the accident are just my accident presented to me in a green photo album. One of my friends whose image is make contact with me over messenger and she's been very supportive and now she wants to forward her any images from our school. Before I had just two occupied myself and to try to order to chaos now I have to please someone besides myself the pressures back on…

Yearbook Season

What a weird year?! Everything is different I don't know what I would do if I was a graduating senior this year. Actually, yes I do, I would go with the flow that's what you do when you're in high school even in college end up going with the flow more often than not. Interestingly however I have noticed a meme develop in the Facebook arena which is everybody is posting their yearbook graduation images. This is cool if you have such an image. Oddly I don't. High school was so bizarre for me (I've written a number of posts about the fact that high school that I graduated from was actually the crosstown rival from the school are supposed to graduate from but could not because of the major architectural barriers to a student in a wheelchair). The the bizarreness gets even more strange when one considers the fact that I did not I was not able to graduate with my class because of being held back a year for the time I was in rehabilitation following my accident.

I cannot remember how much the cost of the 1970 yearbook was to the students I think it was something like $15 or something 1970 dollars. I'd gotten to know the students I went to school with of course and I wanted a yearbook and I got one. Sadly like so many other events of my life of which I majorly participated in I did not get visual recognition. I think I still have that yearbook somewhere in my library but I haven't been able to put my hands on it this year. It's my fifty-year anniversary of my graduation from good old Borah high school. Where high was a big school I think I graduating class was something like 1200 students it was a long commencement. At the time I didn't really think a lot about what was going on. Since I really didn't live in the school district I didn't go to a lot of the end of the year functions. I did go to junior senior prom, and some of those kind of things. But overall I just kind of quietly slipped out of view. I'm currently sifting through all the images I have in my photo journals/albums and chaotic mess and I know I have some cap and gown images that outpost one of these first days maybe not hear it on Facebook. It's kind of sad though even though I graduated from high school I didn't really want to I'm glad that I did and actually I do have a warm spot in my heart for high school and Borah high specifically. I actually thought about going online and purchasing a yearbook and I was amazed to see yearbooks going from (1970 Safari) $75-$200. I guess it's a scalpers market for people who desperately want to capture their yearbooks. Also through my library again and see if somewhere my yearbooks been misplaced and then find some quiet time and wander through the pages of the year I was there but somewhat invisible…

Dirty Money

Luckily, I'm not far from my market and there's a fast food joint across the street actually, and Arctic Circle for what that's worth. Not real impressed with their menu but it is fast food and sometimes you just want to be irresponsible and enjoy something greasy, salty and not necessarily good for you sometimes you just want to celebrate being alive. I was going through a little bit of need to celebrate the end of a week Friday evening so I ventured across the street for some tater tots. Arctic Circle exit does a good job on her tater tots if you ask me – – even if they didn't tell you drowned tots in ketchup and come with a fairly edible meal.

I just been the market ahead everything in my little basket that I carry with me now to the market. I found out last week this market no longer allows private bags you know those trendy little our big bags which were common for weeks ago. In fact markets and shopping places often rewarded shoppers for bringing in their own bags as they are trying to get away from those the only plastic bags that are ubiquitous. I was shocked to weeks ago when I produced my bag and I was informed that they no longer allowed such devices because they were “dirty”. I had been in the market so few times not to realize that due to the virus things are changing in one of those things were no more personal bags, back to plastic unless you bring it a basket like I've got. I got 20 extra dollars when I paid for my groceries. I'm trying to build up my cash supply. It just seems to make sense in these bizarre times the least so I thought. Try surprised to see that already had what looked like 20 or $30 in my wallet already. Like I said I'm really not using or getting into my wallet very much these days.

I find it so weird places like Arctic Circle, which are still open, have their doors locked you can only order either through calling ahead of time in placing your order are going through the drive-through which I've done in the past just as a lark especially late night when they close their walk-in part of their operation. So dutifully I got in line right behind some kind of hybrid wagon I was afraid it was going to take a while but surprisingly the orders went pretty fast if one I came up to the window they asked if I was going to charge or use my debit card. Oddly, one of the reasons I got cash was to spend on my night out going through the drive through. It was just easier to pull my card out and zip zip then I noticed a sign in the window which said “we no longer accept cash”. I couldn't believe it and I still don't believe it but at that point in time in the afternoon I was not about to argue the whole concept of legal tender in the US government. Actually I was unsure, I always heard that merchants could not refuse “legal tender”. But now in this time of quarantine who knows what's going on and had not heard the whole thing about no longer taking cash. I guess the virus could live on cash but it seems to me it can live just as easily on plastic. I've kind of wondered if part of this whole social distancing is been an excuse to tie up a lot of loose ends like senior citizens, people disabilities and going to a cashless economy. I don't want to be the paranoid one but sometimes things look a certain way you think?…

Photographic Chaos

I don't know where the time went last night or yesterday but somehow the day did get away from me and I went to bed without posting in the blog. I'm trying to convince myself that not posting is not a big deal but it is kind of a big deal to me some of his prided himself on posting at least 500 words for us long as I have each day throwing up 500+ words. Really, a day go by without my posting. Truth be known I can go in, I have figured this out, how to go in and change the dates to which you want to give the illusion that I posted something yesterday that I actually wrote today. That's cheap like sewing labels for the expensive shirt into a cheap shirt that's what it's all about is that not correct? Appearances. What a joke. Hiding behind something as trivial as posting 500 words a day every day day in day out week after week year after year. I need to not lose sight of the love of writing versus being perfect in my postings.

Last week I had Annette, my helper, pull my dreaded box of photos from the bookcase. This box holds all of the visual data accumulated through my life. It is the revenant's of two or three family albums my mother put together during her lifetime many of which of disintegrated in time leaving only the photos randomly thrown into my chaos box of photos. My goal for the last couple years is to organize this material and somehow scan these images onto a hard drive in the hopes of producing some kind of a document before I pass my kids. I don't know why this is important just seems like something one should do at least for me. I know it's difficult to throw photos away, these individual snippets of life. I just want to hold onto them so badly. However the technology I can go the next step and at least tried organize them somehow. However, the task is daunting and many times overwhelming I have to sneak up on the project do a little bit there and a little bit here scan a little scan a lot and then wander off to do something else the only problem is I still have the mess on my kitchen table and other places in the apartment. I don't want to frighten anyone but there are so many stories with these images that I just might start incorporating some into my blogs. Not that my life is so boring I have to rely on outside stimulus like faded photographs but maybe that's the case. They say a picture is worth 1000 words I only have to have 500 for each pitcher. Or, what if that was my goal to write 1000 words on each image THAT would be a challenge. That might be fun to do and who knows might be a way to creep up on publication or possible publication of the book about my life. Droll as that sounds it could be fun. Not the life has to be fun but at this point in time when struggling with social distancing which means stay-at-home what a perfect thing to do.

Gut Punched

I'm a much bigger whiner than I ever thought and never has this been brought to my attention since this last earthquake which is about a month ago. I'm very definitely calling the beginning of this phenomenon the earthquake. I'm designating the beginning of this phenomenon at least a starting point. This morning as I was getting ready for my day – – it's Thursday and that's the in between day as far as my home health folks go – – but all of a sudden I thought I heard my neighbor upstairs what I thought was fine out of his chair. Steve, my upstairs neighbor is a good guy just kind wears me out sometimes. I'm very much aware of his presence however. Whenever he flushes the toilet my whole unit shakes or seems to at least appear in the bathroom. This morning, as I said, I just shaved and was bopping around the apartment getting ready get dressed actually I was in the middle of dressing with one leg in my shorts. When I hear what I thought was a “thud” followed by and ever so slight queasy that my stomach when I realized “son of a bitch!” That was an earthquake!! Sure enough another earthquake or as the news media locally is portraying these events and aftershock! I really do believe someone is trying to put a not as dangerous on these aftershocks as they really are.

This morning's quake/aftershock was weird what the phenomenon sounded like something heavy dropped on the floor upstairs (Steve's apartment not heaven). It came and went almost instantaneously quite frankly it felt like a slug in the gut, like a gut punch you know when you're not ready for it, unsuspecting. Like when you stand in line at the bank or the supermarket and the guy insanity turns around doubles his best and and shoves it as hard as he can into your unsuspecting stomach knocking the wind out of you and you most likely on the floor looking up totally confused not even yet feeling the trauma to your abdomen that is still seconds away. Today I got the gut punch but no abdominal trauma just a queasy feeling. I was waiting for things to really start rock 'n rolling the R&R never came which I guess is a good thing. I've really convinced myself that I'm going to be okay here at the apartments since there built on big “earthquake rollers”. Some sort of technology designed to take the stress and strain from an earthquake. Here I hope this is true and that the organization that I volunteer for Utah Non-Profit Housing Corporation got the money's worth when they built this property and some of the others we have on these earthquake rollers or whatever they are. I have to admit I know that I've got some form of an PTSD because whenever I hear rumble are the apartment shakes or even the dump truck/garbage truck passes outside my window I sense my heart racing just a little bit quicker than before. I doubt/hope this unhealthy feeling of anticipation will not mature into anything significant but something's changed in me and the world I guess. But something HAS changed!

Its A Wonderful Life

Like an exceptionally cold winter this plague of Covid 19, I think is beginning to break up and move on, but like said winter it slow very slow. However, it seems infections are becoming fewer as are the deaths secondary to this disease. This means that possibly there is light at the end of this tunnel. I'm sensing this and I get the feeling that others are as well. On the national scene many are anxious for the epidemic and for political reasons, economic reasons and possibly for humane reasons as well. I try to get feeling that a lot of folks feel that things are going to be back to normal just like they used to be but I kind of don't think that's going to happen. This engine is huge machine of human productivity/economy is one big piece of equipment to start once it stopped. The machine has been going for so long, And gotten so big and intricate that when it came apart and finally stopped the silence was deafening. Now, possibly, we're going to try to get that engine up and going again I think it's going to be possibly is challenging as the fight to conquer the plague if we have. This part of me that's saying 'don't let your guard down, keep your dukes up, keep an eye out for the sucker punch because it's out there and it's coming, remember I grew up with an older brother I know about sucker punches'

This past couple of weeks have been like we been living in a made-for-TV movie or one of those old movies starring Jimmy Stewart. You could watch what was happening and sometimes grasp what was happening but overall it just didn't seem real. Felt like it was make-believe but at the same time in the back of your mind you knew it was real and that little person who lives in the back of your brain keeps screaming “this cannot be real! Make it stop make it stop” and now feels like it just might. I'm totally amazed Dianne got her Stimulus money!. She's only one I know who has that's so cool it's bringing a little reality to this nightmare. Now, people are beginning to talk about what they're going to do once the things get back to normal. What's normal? That's got to be the major question and will we recognize “normal” when we get there? I hope so I think things can look different. Things as simple as a handshake or can be different. I don't think the fist bump or the double bump is going to suffice. Someone I spoke to today over the Internet suggests the Japanese might have a right in doing a deep bow. I kind of like that it shows a bit of respect as well as decorum I just don't know if the Western mindset can slow itself down enough to accept this kind of recognition of another individual.

They say coming back to “normal” is going to be a slow process which mean things are not going to be the same. Giant football games, baseball games, basketball games parades and even new year celebrations great and small are probably going to take another form if they happen at all. Actually, also in the back of my mind I think that you know what things are going to go back to normal in three months, six months may be a year or more. Little bit by little bit, even if big brother says nobody gets together anymore, the 6 foot rule stays in place, people are going to find a way to get together just like they found a way to get their hooch when it was illegal, and drive than 55Mph. After our human, the top of the evolutionary food chain. We are, as a species, arrogant the point that nothing will overcome or overtake us. We'll forget the crisis and the struggle and the sacrifice we all had to make the survive. Will do just fine until we get Roundhouse with the sucker punch that's out there because there's always a sucker punch and there's always another test…

Patience

I really wanted to strap on my mask head out the door drive down the sidewalk to the bus stop and ride into the Costco down on State Street. I had an excuse, had a good reason had driven over my glasses earlier in the week and were put together by my home health person, Annette. Costco does not open until 10 AM but I straight a head out the door at 8 AM. I checked route 47, the bus I would need, and they're running on 30 minute headways at 55 minutes past the hour and 25 minutes past the hour. In my head I figured I had adequate reason to be out in public, out in the world out in the virus.

I was trying to think of things to absorb the time So that I would get to the store by the time the store opened. I thought about doing my physical workout but that would put too much pressure. Somewhere during that time my phone rang and I was not able to get to it in time, of course. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had gotten the feeling that I had an appointment that I had either missed I was coming soon. In fact somewhere I was even notified about some appointment with my main Doc, Dr. Reddy. When I checked my calendars nothing showed up but still something worried the back of my mind something was due. For some reason I am not able to check messages left on my answering machine. I think it's something do with invading apps. However the phone number that I was not able to get to looked familiar to the point that I decided I'd return the call and sure enough it was my doctor's office. I finally got through on a number other than the one I was called on but that person told me that it was probably my doc's receptionist calling about tomorrow's appointment, but she would have the person who is my doctors receptionist, back. Now, I had a reason to stay home and work out at least until I got the phone call. Sure enough three force the way through my workout I got the phone call and could not answer the phone in time.When I was finally able to get through to the office I found that my doctor is not having people come in but will do a Tele – appointment. Essentially I will wait around until 10 o'clock when she'll call me.

Dr. Reddy thinks this virus is bad enough that she is rescheduling over patients to Internet/phone call appointments – – I know it's not just ready it's probably policy from Intermountain medical Center – – but enough caution that I started rethinking do I really need to go out, on the bus on this beautiful spring day? I had been getting by with the jerryrigged repair that Annette did on Monday but I dropped my glasses last night I must've ran over them again unknowingly because the lens was out this morning as they were laying on the floor by my chair and matter what I did I could not get the lens back in the eyepiece. This was motivating me to saddle up. However, I dug out my backup glasses – – the last prescription I had and I actually get but I with those specs. This certainly not as nice and less proficient as my currently prescription But the glasses are wearable and will get me by. I really don't need to go in. I can just hunker down for another day in the apartment and patiently wait for this scourge to pass…

Clean Shirt Mean Shirt

Classical paisley design

I've come to the reality that I should never wear white method I don't like wearing white. I do but for various reasons one most important is that it makes me look wide, very wide and the other Is the whole battle of keeping the vast expanse of cloth clean. I've always been cursed as far as keeping my closed clean. Lately, with the last couple years I've been trying really really hard to keep myself presentable but it just is a no go. I would love I would love to be able to blame this on my disability on the fact that I have hands that are less than functional but you know what I was a mess before my accident. So perhaps the messes on the front of my clothing would not be as monumental as they often are but they would still be there I know they would be. I am just a downright messy person.

I am amazed at people most notably women who could wear a white frock day in and day out. Especially on Mondays. When I was working I would notice colleagues and workmates Come to work wearing something white, a blouse, a white shirt, light-colored pants. They would wear these all day then show up on Tuesday wearing very close to the same outfit. I could never do that. Somewhere along the line from the time I'm finally dressed to the time that I meet somebody in public I'm going to drip, spell or wipe something inadvertently on whatever I'm wearing that day. It is taken my nearly 70 years to realize the best bet to looking halfway presentable to wear something dark with brown streaks or designs – – I was at my best I believe in the late 60s and Paisley were the rage a person can hide a lot of dirt on a paisley design. I'm still quite amazed that my mother purchased close that were actually in style at the time when it was time for me to go back to school after my rehabilitation.

This last weekend, Sunday morning I was actually making French toast! I haven't made French toast for some time but since I happen to come into some soft white bread earlier in the week and I still had a carton of its scrambled egg I had to use a.this is a perfect time. I don't know why I was so careful I wanted to be so careful not like I was going anywhere that day, Easter Sunday. Not like anyone is going come over to visit – – which could of happened but didn't – – I just want to keep myself unspotted. Over the years Dianne has made me towel ponchos. She would take a large towel could a whole at one end for my head that I would use that to cover myself often coming from bathing or shower. I begin to wear this item when I would cook and even eat on occasions when it was relatively important but I stay spot free. Yesterday I looked high and low I've pretty much worn out my towel ponchos. I guess I need to make a couple more. I do have one garment like this is not towel and fits way too tight to be a anti-splash device. But now I have some great excitement as I contemplate making a towel bib for the old guy. After all I know a bib Is not that flattering and I know that but neither is spots and stains all over a white turtleneck shirt…

Easter 2020

This is not the Easter Bunny but one of the rabbits from WaterShip Down it just seemed appropriate. Happy Easter everyone

I am really ready for this pandemic to start winding down. The novelty of home isolation and social distancing is pretty much run its course. I don't think I'm getting stir crazy per say because I have good interaction thanks to the Internet but I do have to admit I'm getting more and more concerned about what is going to be the result once this thing is passed. Already, I've noticed that UTA is cutting back its bus service which is going to impact me one where the other. I know this sounds very selfish and self-serving but it's true I am nothing without my transportation. Not that meetings I attend will probably ever be the same. Bureaucracies learn to get by with technology specifically with software like Zoom. Zoom has lots of problems that seem to be working and I think they will get those bugs worked out of the system and soon nobody will be meeting face-to-face anymore. Bureaucracies state and federal will save boatloads of money on travel and feeding the parasites who people the boards (I can say this because I'm one of them). Maybe I'll feel different once this cold spell that of Me cooped up in the apartment passes and I will at least be able to get out to the parking lot to read and out to the park to hang out in the sunshine.

Yesterday my cleaning person was over and I had her get down my giant box of photographs and photo albums in various states of disintegration. I really want to try to organize that pile documentation into something somewhat usable. I had her put it on the table and I just haven't had the energy are will to dive into it. I don't know where to start. The task seems overwhelming. Maybe I'll put it back up on the shelf and wait till cold weather arrives again to give me something to do while cooped up due to the cold. It's Easter Sunday but been very quiet here at the apartments of course. The high point of my day was Dianne coming over and delivering some treats from Harbor freight and hunks of her Easter ham and a great cookie. Pretty excited about the Easter ham however, I did have a small quarter of a ham sliced which is sliced and wrapped. The kind slicing it makes a perfect ham sandwich or something else that flat pieces of hand can be used for possibly scalloped potatoes but that's about all I think. I suppose it could be used for ham and bean soup or just ham and beans. Even though the ham is great and tasty the fine red meat just does not feel like real ham so Dianne's gift is greatly appreciated and very well may end up in some ham and cabbage casserole. I think I have all the things I need for it.

Tomorrow's Monday, ho-hum Monday, it's another day in the neighborhood if your social distancing. However, I will at least have my arm bike to look forward to – 40 minute Monday just maybe I can start working out on my rickshaw again. Even if it's cold outside, relatively speaking, I can push the weights down little bit. Then I write my blog and journal and enjoy the week. Hope this is not too despondent as I'm not it's just it's hard to write when all you have is your memories you can get out and make more…

Grandson Fun

It's kind of weird to say but I only have one grandson and that grandson's name is Asher. Interestingly I have four granddaughters and two step granddaughters. I don't have much contact with Asher which is too bad I think he is always been wary of me. I don't know if it was the wheelchairs are the power chair or maybe it's just me but I think I've always sort of frightened him. Interestingly, I'm beginning to have more contact with the lad as he grows.

Asher's almost 9 years old and I think he's pretty bright, not because of his grandfather are because he's a grandson of which I have only one but because the things he seems to know and do. Just recently I have become aware that he has at least one YouTube channel and I think he may have more but I don't really know how to access the other channels. I think he's done a splendid job for an eight-year-old almost 9 in fact many of the episodes on the channel were made two years ago at least it seems to be 100% Asher.

I wish I were better grandfather. I think I may have gone over this before in other postings about how I wish I was the like the grandfather in Sloop John B by the Beach boys. The grandfather in this song I think was a bit of a rascal bug. This grandfather and grandson somehow get work on this boat/ship and sounds like a party together, work together and just hang out together. And one of the renditions of the movie Last Of The Mohicans There's a grandfather Indian kind of guy Who is acting as one of the guides for the group. But this grandfather Indian knows how to throw a mean Tommy Hawk and is not afraid to use it. He runs and jumps and he fights just as good as his son and grandson. I'm not a very good grandfather, I know this. I've written about this in the past as well. I think I'm trying to be better, case in point the letterwriting campaign with a couple of the granddaughters that been doing over the last decade or so. What few conversations I've had with them over the phone of been quite stilted and limited and in real-time conversations also significantly limited. I would like to throw the blame on the distance between us and the lack of contact with each other but I also have another granddaughter in the same county here in Salt Lake that I also feel that we're greatly distant. I think she has tried over the last couple years that she's matured and I've tried to be there but they live in a distant part of the county and seeing each other is quite a task (honestly, this was the case as well when Dianne and I were together and I still had a van that I could travel with). I don't know if the letters of done much good except to establish some form of proof that I tried to be somewhat available in part of the kids lives.

One of the best parts of ashes foray in to video, Specifically YouTube is that there is a place to leave comments. I watched one of Asher's more in depth videos where he pretty much describes one of his favorite video games. The document is more than 10 minutes which I think is abnormal to anyone who produces a video. I left a comment which upon me going back and looking was quite extensive special for a little kid and my surprise within a day's time Asher had read my comment and responded, very adult like. I was impressed and proud and and somewhat encouraged to comment again when he decides to put up another video.

I love my grandkids even though I don't tend to show it too much. I don't know how and I know that's a copout just because I didn't have the kind of relationship with my grandparents that I wish I had. All I know is that I did not want to be like them well I one grandfather, my dad's side I think had real potential. Grandfather Smith at one time was a logger and I can see myself with him working on logging camp had things been just a little bit different…

OT And Me

In trying to be responsible citizen of this planet I'm trying to comply with the whole concept of social distancing. I'm seriously cutting back on the amount of travel I'm doing especially as the weather turns absolutely beautiful with the advent of true spring. Because I am not as mobile as usual and the meetings are no longer there as are the bus trips gone. I'm having to rely on being much more creative in my blog entries. This means to some degree going back into my history. Some like the “way back machine” for me anyway.

I think I mentioned once or twice my new respect for occupational therapy in the life of a person with a significant disability. By the time I got to the Elks Rehabilitation Center in the late fall of 1966 I was beginning to stabilize as far as a person of the disability. All my wounds it pretty much healed, with the exception of my spinal cord injury which basically never would, I was sitting up pretty well without passing out of throwing up or anything like that. I was definitely ready to begin my rehabilitation. Rehabilitation is kind of like being in school the concept is to provide the individual with rehabilitation classes as well as continued healing and adjustment to be a person with some major paralysis. Since physical therapy is a professional occupation professionals work eight hours a day so my rehab was a hours a day more or less Monday through Friday. Had six or seven classes throughout the day, that's what they call them classes, PT of course, mat class, rickshaw, resistant pulleys, standing board, and occupational therapy. Occupational therapy is a discipline of vocational therapy I guess. I really wasn't sure what it was supposed to do and because of that I never gotten a very good or healthy respect for the discipline. All I knew was that at 2:30 PM I would have the last class of my day which was OT (occupational therapy). I would be shoveled off to the side section of the building. It could not call OT a room it was a good-sized area even larger than physical therapy. They had a number of work tables with all kinds of tools and such. They had a room that look like an apartment with couch table working stove sink etc. the unit had a mockup car that I suppose people can actually learn driving skills (I never did) it seems part of my time was spent with electric typewriter writing which I love to do with as having to learn to do this with pegs (pencils attached to my hands usually some sort of glove device) and then type on a Selectric typewriter for 45 minutes. This is okay for day one day to the got boring really quickly. The OT, and interesting young woman reminded me in later years of Terry Gross, I couldn't really figure out what she did except try to keep me busy. She was nothing like OT's I would associate with later in my life. She finally settled down to a leather project like something you would pick up a Tandy craft. This was a session where I had a mallet and various tools for working with leather. I assume similar to those projects were to get this triple leather and end up making a belt out of it. In my creative moments and an effort to keep the occupational therapist happy and off my back I developed a monogram of my initials MLS which I spent at least four months pounding down to a diamond shaped piece of Leather about six or 8 inches long. I think I still have that piece of work I've driven around for the last 50 years. It's like one of things your kids give you for a gift on Father's Day You don't know quite what it is but you don't know how to get rid of it without hurting feelings so you hold onto it for eternity or until they carry you away clean out your desk.

This last experience I had with occupational therapy for my last neck operation has been totally different from learning how to swallow the learning to get around. Since I've pretty much learned to survive his past 50 or 60 years there was the whole lot they could teach me except how to bond with my therapists and that itself is worth all my time. I see now what OT does it so much bigger than I thought or new…