Slinky

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the neighbor who called and left a message for me to contact him. I really do not know this guy except he is the “home-teacher” ( an ecclesiastical watch dog group that makes sure the local ecclesiastical unit is well and in good working order)for my neighbor. I blew off the phone call and he called again and blew that of and then he stopped by one day when I was at work and talked to Dianne. He is on disability and is starting a lawnmower repair business and wanted me to do his website. I basically told him I was not interested but he seemed a bit desperate to have a presence on the INTERNET. I told him I was not very skilled and that I had been burned by the city for not having n license and such the last time I did a business venture from my home. Still he persisted and I said “sure” I would do what I could and started waiting. The way I saw things the ball was in his court and I was waiting for him to contact me with the items he wanted on the website. It never came and weeks passed. And life happened and I put the event aside hopefully to be forgotten. Then Sunday I got a call( we never pick up the phone but elect to screen each call calling back those wish—how decadent is that?) m It was the neighbor and he was miffed. Was I going to do the project not he needed to know. When I heard this I figuratively dug my heals in and blew him off with great prejudice. Dianne said, “ You know this really makes us look like flakes” I said “So?” Dianne replied “it just does.”

This non confrontation festered like a blister on my heal all day long at work and maybe because the day as so beautiful or maybe because all the networks are in “rerun” mode that I decided to go over and have a ‘face to face’ with my neighbor the lawnmower repair man “LMRM”. Dianne thought I should call first but I did not ant to give him a heads up. I wanted to do a drop in and see what happened. I figured I had to do this or I would be slinking round all summer. I was not sure where LMRM lived but I figured there would be enough neighbors out they would direct me and sure there were and they did.

Of course there are steps going to LMRM’s house and luckily there was some leaving just as I motored my chair up the drive way and this neighbor fetched LMRM out. He was gruff at first and seemed like he grudged me like I my kid had broke a window in his green house and now what was I going to do. So I talked, I did not quite apologize and there was a lot of arms folded eye sparing but LMRM held out and I sort of wore him down and decided and we sort of agree that he was going to check in with another person he contacted and I said if this fell though or if he needed back up I would be happy to stand in. But I got the impression that it would be a long cold day innhell before he would ask me to do anything for him and that it OK. I did not want to do it any way.

We moved on and he showed me his new, old truck which he has outfitted to repair lawmowers at their own homes. It’s a Uhaul cast off but big and he has crafted a great work area inside.. I am envious. The face to face went off well, I think he will tolerate me now but best of all I will not have to slink.

Not To Night...I'm Just Too Tired

Today went to fast. I just finished writing my mom's weekly letter and am all out of energy. Tomorrow I shall write about my pesky neighbor the budding lawn mower repair guy and the how I go over and visit him and apologize for putting him off. But not tonight. I gotta crash.

Getting Old

I hate like hell settling down into old age but that is exactly what I am doing whether I like it or not and its not that I am a doting grandfather, I am not! BUT I keep getting caught doing things which might describe me as such. I hate it I just hate it.

This holiday has been marred by low temperatures, wind and lots of rain making doing the kind of things I would enjoy near impossible. As indicated in earlier posts GD1 has been at the house all weekend and I think yesterday morning cabin fever was beginning to set it. Actually, the day started off clear and fairly warm all things considered. Dianne was in need of further sleep or least a long nap and GD1 was in need of way more attention then grandma was able to administer so I stepped in and suggested that GD1 and I explore the neighbor hood and search for as garage sale or two. I noted on our return trip from Iron Man a couple of posted signs indicating as much. I was surprised when she jumped at the opportunity to go questing with me. So with GD1 at my side we bounded down the ramp and out into the neighborhood and looking for neighborhood garage sales and I knew a visit to the neighborhood 711 or equivalent would also appear on our agenda before too long. I soon realized what garage sales may have been advertised on various telephone poles and street posts were long over—very rarely do these events lapse into Sunday so we ventured east to our 711. Good old always open 711. Thanks to the homogenization of 711 GD1 knew where candy would be located and immediately drug to the spot. We picked a few pieces: Sour Watermelons, some sort hard candy, a candy bar for Dianne, sleeping at home, and a bottle of Naked—some concoction fruit and vegetable drink –GD1 assured me the Naked was a health requirement for a diet she was contemplating going on. We checked out with our goodies in plastic and headed across the street to a Starbucks.

I was not sure how Starbucks and 8 year old would go but GD1 is not your average 8 year old. She is hip, cool and knows what is down. She settled into the Starbucks environment immediately. The dark lighting, over stuffed chairs and young staff in black tee shirts wishing they were anywhere, on a Sunday morning but there. There were a couple other old farts reading the paper, some yupsters in shorts and tan baseball caps and couple dressed down business types waiting for a deal to be made or to make one and finally there was a semi cute couple. He with his lap top wyfing like crazy she I finally realized had a small human type firmly attached to a breast. GD1 is too shy at first so I have to ask what Starbucks has which is legal for kids and we soon found some form of frozen chocolate. I got a latte and we found a spot and settled in sipping our drinks, gossiping about customers and going through my backpack for items of interest settling on my sketch pad. We sat there for more then an hour being “cool”. We made fun of the Barbies who came in and made a major effort at being ostentatious and two other chicks dressed in black and white—exactly alike, I think they may have been waitresses at one of the neighboring restaurants choosing to sit out front and smoke cigarettes. We sat there and just enjoyed each other rare. We came to the conclusion together that Grandma had slept long enough and we should be heading back. But we sort of made a date to do this again, possibly in a forthcoming winter, sit there and drink lattes and kid lattes and watch the snow fall.

So is this doting? I don't think so but I kind a think, in the back of my mind it is an old guy thing.

What's In A Name ?

Anakah will now be GD1, Jasmine GD2 and Riley is GD3—this is the birth position not their social, loved or worshiped position because everyone knows the three are all loved to Infinity and beyond. For those of you who have not yet figured it out GD stands for Grand Daughter and for the record Jessica will be GDA( Alpha) and Summer GDB(Beta). I cannot explain why I have chosen this nomenclature but seems fun at this point in time.

It the holiday middle and GD1 came over yesterday morning. We went to Iron Man which we all enjoyed. GD1 spent time with GD2 which was a real surprise; GD2 was excited as GD1 for a reprieve from adult care. Dianne and I enjoyed an hour and a half of freedom before we collected GD1 for the movie.

It finally happened! The movie place I have written bout where management lets wheelchair users and their guest into the movie without payment. I have always felt this practice would not last for ever and sure enough there has been a change—when we presented ourselves for the movie yesterday fully expecting to have to pay for just one ticket we charged for two. On inquiry we found that the policy supposedly had changed and now just the wheelchair person gets the free admission. I just have to accept because I know there is no written precedence that I have ever found which clarifies the free admissions in the first place. There is no one to talk to no one to fight with it just is and people with disabilities just have to accept the change. Oh well, at least we did not have to pay all three admissions. Sigh, I know that I will be next, but I should use the free movie admission “card” as much as possible before they (who ever they are)decide to pull that bennie too.

Its almost noon on the middle day of the holiday—the weather has already improved with clear morning skies and promises of temps in the low 70’s with threats of thunder showers in the evening. There has been no discussion of BBQs, picnics or get togethers which is fine by me. I have graves to decorate but I doubt I will get out of town today or tomorrow. I think my dad and uncle would just as soon that I not stress the van or endanger myself or family by being on the road during a holiday weekend. Or maybe I am just talking myself out of my family responsibilities.

Friday at Dawn

It's the end of a tough, busy week. I drove in four days and I am again, driving today. I have a meeting at the University, work related. I have another meeting too and the boss leaves again today for meetings in DC and vacation almost three weeks gone with me in charge. I hope I don't drive the office into the ground. Hum. I still have not had my P.E. yet, a mixed blessing, and now I won't get the evaluation until Claire gets back. I guess I should enjoy the bliss...

Dress Up Day

It’s a dress up day and a drive in day. The rain is still with me and I am selling the office service. I am meeting with DSPD today to get their FAQ’s a new feature of Access Utah Network. Our plan to is to go to our funders and have each provide us with FAQs their consumers have asked and then have the questions and answers on a page on our website www.accessut.org. I am nervous as I approach this task and I have drug my feet a bit coming to the task but I am going to do it today break the ice and I am going to it well. I am also going to have to revisit my stand on not submitting gas mileage as I am using my van more and more. I may also start using public transit again even though taking the bus and train for meetings is time expensive and that is stressing as I sense I am having to do more and more with the job.

I was supposed to have my Performance Evaluation yesterday but the hou came and went. The boss was called out forma meeting “on the hill” and I spaced it off as well until I happened to check my calendar. So, supposedly, I have the event today but the office is going to be very busy but I am ready even if the PE is too short to be credible except to say that that the evaluation was done. I can live with that.

Tears

I really do not have much time for the newspaper, newspapers bore me or rather I don’t have the patience to read the paper front to back but not Dianne she reads everything and fills me in on things she feels I might be interested. So I intrigued this weekend when she directed my attention to an article regarding a local LDS missionary who dropped dead in England a few days ago. I recognized the last name of the missionary of a family I knew from my childhood days. Spjute, that name and spelling is fairly rare and so I researched the young missionary a bit closer and sure enough she was the daughter of my old friend Mark Spjute. What a shame what a beautiful daughter. Then I do some Googling and I realize this friend is actually living in the Salt Lake County what a shock. He is a CFO of a major company in the area. He is universes from me and my life style. But I signed the book on line on the obituary page of the Deseret News. I left my email and who knows. I’ll give him some time and see what happens and if I don’t hear back from him maybe I call in a couple of months and see how he is doing and see if he wants to get together or something.

“Vignette V6 Mon May 19 07:45:14 2008

LDS missionary dies in England

By Aaron Falk
Deseret News

A Farmington woman collapsed while jogging and died Saturday near Birmingham, England, where she was serving a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Sister Lindsey Spjute, 23, "loved life as she loved people and had a work ethic that didn't quit," said Richard McKenna, Spjute's LDS stake president in Farmington. "She was an incredibly fun-loving, energetic person. This young lady had a depth of character that goes far beyond her age."

An autopsy could not determine the cause of death, according to a statement from the LDS Church. Spjute's family was grieving but remained strong even through the uncertainty surrounding the woman's death, McKenna said.

"Clearly they're mourning her loss," McKenna said. "They recognize the emptiness and the loneliness and the concern. But they're also solid in their belief that there is life after this life."

Just hours after her death, Spjute's family received a call from the woman's mission president in England. He called Spjute "the perfect missionary," McKenna said.

"They could not identify the cause of death, but the family is at peace with that," he said. "They believe God's hand was involved in this. She extended her mission."

Spjute attended Brigham Young University-Idaho and later Utah State University, where she planned to complete her schooling in special education when she returned from her mission.

"She was well into her schooling when she decided she had to go on her mission," McKenna said. "The family takes great comfort in that. She was doing exactly what she wanted to do, exactly what she knew she needed to be doing." “

---

E-mail: afalk@desnews.com

It's May be Artifical but It Feels Like Real

I did it! Even with all my procrastination yesterday I eventually settled down and started filling out the data (I hope ) asked for on my performance evaluation which is due to be discussed my me and my supervisor this coming Wednesday at 3:00 oclock. I don’t know if I did the evaluation correctly and I just sent the evaluation to the boss who I hope will critique the document and let me know how I might better report my years activities. The experience flowed too smoothly so I am sure I did something wrong and I will have hours more to slave over this document before it become acceptable.

We had staff meeting this morning the first time in a couple of months, the meeting lasted a couple of hour and meant to let the boss know where everyone was at and what they were doing with their work lives; especially since the boss was going to be gone for almost three weeks beginning next week. Because the boss well be gone she wants to be sure the work of the office well go on unabated in her absence. So the pressure is on to make my works visible. Artificial as the stress may be it is stress non the less and I move pretty fast to relieve my stress. So expect concise postings for the next couple of days.

I Want My Widget

I should be doing my performance evaluation but I am not. I have just spent two hours trying to install a “Widget” on my blog. I had the thing just the way I wanted it but then I did something, I don’t know what, and the image and twitter box disappeared. So I went back and messed round till I got something close to what I want. This was after I did an afternoon BBQ which was OK and I was led to an epiphany I don’t like cooking the prepared or small meats and meat products like hot dogs, chicken tenders or even chicken wings. What I really long to cook on my grill is big meat like briskets, roasts and ribs. Steaks are OK everything else is kid stuff, finger food. I made enough to send a bag home with Auni when she leaves and still have enough protein for me to have materials for lunch all week long. Next week I think I’ll do some Mexican flat meat or maybe a flank steak. I really like flat meat something I can cut strips off of all week long .

In truth everything I have done today has been an exercise in procrastination to keep from having to come to grips with my performance evaluation. It may not be right but it is just the way it is. I think I hear my novel calling me.

P.E.

Performance Evaluation! Its that time of year when bosses start thinking about how you are doing—not because they particularly like you (though mine does) but because they themselves get a memo or email saying they have to get the staff’s performance evals in to some head office before a certain date and then the stress begins.

I have figured out that performance evaluations are the equivalent to vocational report cards and you are the parent and if you get a bad performance eval then you better rectify it one way of the other or else. I hate the performance evaluation—luckily I have never had to give them because I have seen how the supervisor, whoever they might be has had to sweat them. Historically I have worked in small shops, rarely over ten folks so your supervisor was usually also a close friend and they suffer almost as much as I would as these evaluations of performance were being rendered. In my former position at the independent living center—this was the first time I was exposed to the performance evaluation and was bout twenty years ago when evaluations came into to vogue. We were a very small shop and very close friends and when the boss started she was as inexperienced at giving thee as we staff were as getting them. She even did this intimidation thing some years and eventually gave to task my best friend Kim—who also tried very hard and with due diligence but was very difficult, for me, to take serious in that role. I am also so stupid I am sure Kim felt this insolence and too great restraint not to thump me mightly with his role of power. Then when the dread of impending doom wore off and the director tired of the game they looked to make the process less complicated and less work for management. This was when management started handing you the program evaluation form and then you were expected to be honest and fill out your own eval and the meet with your boss to “discuss” the evaluation and come to sort of agreement.

I think Alyson, my social worker boss, was one of my favorite performance evaluators. We actually did this dance where she would actually type her responses to her evaluation questions as she gave them during the interview and you would sit there and coach her on what to write. As a social worker, Alyson was always trying to be pleasant so the ordeal was not too bad. Actually, it was great everything was done by the time you rolled out of her office, for another year.

This year the email said to take you evaluation and type your responses in a different colored ink and come prepared to discuss(defend?) your responses. For some reason these evaluations always fall on a period of time before my boss is about to head out of the country for one reason or another and she has to execute these evaluations before she can leave; perhaps this is her way of getting the evaluations completed.

I hate performance evaluations. I hate performance evaluation season. I think for the most part my boss hates them too but admin says they have to be done, they are a task to be ticked off to get on with the rest of the work. I know all this and I am almost sure I will most likely survive( vocationally) but the season sure is uncomfortable.

Marsha's Lunch

Today we had a lunch honoring one of our workmates who recently received an award from the Governor. We had lunch at Market street Grill. Market Street Grill is a high end easting spot catering to the upward mobile professional not necessarily to State employees but Market is where we ended up today.

Since I was in my power wheelchair I took off early and zipped over to the Market to secure a table. I was wearing my tattered hood and my back pack between my legs I looked like warmed over homeless. But I got the table. I told the waiter guy we were expecting 7 or 8 folks. I swear I did not mislead intentionally--I get confused. However the waiter set out their famous sour dough bread for eight folk--we had lots.
This is the kind of place where there specials is $10.00 and everything goes up in price from there and Market Street's big offering is fresh fish, well, as fresh as you can get in Utah being a landlocked state. The boss bought lunch up to $10.00 if the meal cost more we paid the difference. I found a hamburger which turned out to be OK and I drank water with lemon.

It was a good day and a good lunch. We missed Chapman, our staff member who could not make itto work today staying home with her sick daughter, maybe next time.

Council

Its Council meeting today not whole lot gets done on Council meeting. Luckily , for me, I don’t have a lot of direct involvement, I don’t have to sit in the meeting which can be up to four hours in length or mingle with the participants. But I do assist with covering phone for the Council since our receptionist is also staff to the council meaning she has to be in the meeting, all meeting. So I am saddled with the regular calls my office gets during the day plus the back up calls the Council staff might get during the day as well.

The Council maintains a number of committees made up of Council members and I of course staff one of these committees meaning I have t talk notes , type them up and make sure committee members get them following the meeting. As I said I staff the Transportation committee. The Transportation committee is committed to assisting the local pubic transit system to better serve folks with disabilities in Utah and specifically Salt Lake. The meeting usually follows Council which means its members are usually burned out but usually generates three pages of hand written notes. The most redeeming value of these meeting is they are catered and usually really good and staff always gets to eat and so I eat.

So not a lot is getting done today, Council day. Even after the meeting is over there are always stragglers who tend to yammer on endlessly. Tables need to be cleaned and folded and chairs put away and some dishes done. The boss is relaxed and glad the meeting is over for the month and rehashes he meeting with different members of the staff and of course since everyone worked through lunch a lot of the staff leave round four—not me. am hear for the count. I must cover my phones until the end. In the old days when I had two full time staff I usually left at four and got home early. But not now. Now I just blog out the clock.

Lights Camera, Action

I was contacted last Thursday by a Communications student from the local university. The student needed to get some information regarding accessibility (disabled) in the 1940’s here in Salt Lake City. I am the main guy for accessibility questions in this town. I don’t know if this is good or bad because I am sure others in this area know more then I on general access but I can sure tell folks where to go to find this information if not be able to answer it myself.

During this phone interview I must have said a number of things which impressed this student because the next thing she indicated was that she would like to interview me for a documentary she Is doing for her class. I have to admit I was a bit flattered, as old guys like myself tend to be after such requests, and thought listening to myself talk for a bit might be fun. I envisioned a four eyed academic with a reporter’s notebook, a cassette recorder and possibly a digital camera. Imagine my surprise when the 20 something student showed up this morning with two bags of equipment containing sound equipment, four high-intensity lamps and a professional digital cam corder I would almost die for. It took her twenty minutes just to set up the lights and then she actually “microphoned” me with the lapel microphone I ran under my sweater. And then we interviewed for 90 minutes. I am sometimes shocked at what comes out of my mouth at times like these.. I am shocked that people tend to believe me when I am yammering on. The wheelchair gives me all kinds of validity. I try to cover myself by constantly justifying my comments as “this is me talking here” “that was how I saw what was happening when I was experiencing this or that event”. And as fair and impartial as I strived to be I know I slipped a couple of zingers here and there to the local establishment, bus company or housing authority. I don’t know what kind of distribution this documentary will have or how this student will use the interview and you know what: I do not care the event was fun and broke up the care some times that is as good as it gets for a Monday

Friday Mists

Remember yesterday I could not sleep because of my excitement to get to work? I was exhausted when I got to work and I was not able to very effective all day. Today is better I feel a little more focused. But I just wanted to discuss the reason I was so excited to get to work because I was going to finally start filming the snippets we are planning to start incorporating in our website. We have been talking about doing these short films for a long time but just talked about it. Well a couple of days ago Chapman and I decided to take the first step and we hacked out a short film on low-tech assistive technology. The snippet actually came out better them we anticipated for a first try. Chapman, filmed the document on it’s side for effect and she achieved that and actually the more you watch the snippet the more the snippet seems OK but we will film it again that right way when new get serious.

Pansies

Last night was one of those nights that I should have been able to sleep but was wide awake by 3:15 am staring at the clock wishing I could get back to sleep for even just a few minutes. I was too excited to sleep, excited about getting up and getting into work and getting busy on some projects we have been considering for some time. So I had idea after idea rattling round my head and all I could do was rest stair at the clock and wait.

The city was wet with late night Spring rains—I could smell the farm where I was raised in the mornings air four decades ago. There was no traffic at the hour I was going to work this morning and I powered my chair down the center of the street with my eyes closed trying to remember another place in another time. I was early though about a half hour earlier then I usually get to the office. Rather then having the driver drop me off at my regular stop I got off at the Galavin Station, dead center downtown. I had drop off my mom’s letter at the post office since I did not get to it last night do o the pouring rain.

The morning was beautiful as I powered through the city, wet, clean and just waking to the world. I stopped by some flowers, a whole host of pansies and it made all the difference.

Grants and Flowers

I am reading grants this week actually for the next two weeks. Luckily this year I have 11 grants, only 11 grants this year. In past years I have had up to 30 grants to read and reading thirty grant as in three weeks, for me, is a challenge. Fortunately this year the grants are fewer and I have realized that a number of the larger grants are “sweetheart deals” grants which are going to be funded regardless of what is written—so those I am not going to read—just glass over and list my objections, as I do each year and go on to the more interesting grants. This year I have noticed readability of the grants seem to reached a new low. Some folks just cut and paste parts of the same grant to the new grant forms each year but I swear some of the writers, this year have just plopped words together, done the math, ran the whole thing through spell check and sent the grant off. I read the same page over I don’t know how many times, yesterday trying to figure out this on paragraph and I final realized the sentences were not complete sentences. Granted I was trying read these grants following lunch and I was full and sleepy but still sentence fragments? So in my estimation I have about two grants left to read and ponder, evaluate and show up for the meeting on the 20^th of this month, get my lunch, discuss and leave.

Today’s image is from the tulips in front of out house. I am amazed at how will my little camera does on things like flowers and other items of interest.

Like Aliens

Friday night just about dark there was a terrible screeching in the neighborhood and when the screeching stopped and I peeked out the front door there was catapillar backhoe tractor parked infront of the neighbors house across the street.

A backhoe, parked across the street, just before dark was surreal. It looked like a dinosaur waiting for a neighbor to walk past walking the dog. Saturday morning with daylight the steel beast was still there and would remain for the rest of the weekend.

The weather yesterday was perfect, dry and almost hot in the direct sun. I burnt my head. I am so pathetic, but I love the hot weather allowing me to visit at length with my neighbor on his back porch speculating as too the work destined for the equipment parked out front in the street. The neighbor thinks it’s the City laying more water lines(pipe) which of course it is the CITY laying more pipe but sometimes I just wish it were more. Like Aliens

The Graduate

Dianne and I went out last night, again! Two weeks in a row where we actually went out and socialized. I had better watch out I may become just way too social. Last night there was a graduate party following work. Actually the invite came from the Japanese festival I went to last Saturday. Dianne was wondering round the festival and found a fellow Louisianan; Dianne has a most unusual talent of going out into a crowd and finding people from her home town. When Dianne finely returned with her new friend in tow and started to introduce Carmen to me I realized the person was Carmen, Marsha’s sister! Marsha works in the same office I do. I feel we have become good friends in the time Marsha has been staff. Marsha had told me that her sister was graduating this year with her masters degree. I thought that was cool but did not think much more of the graduation, ensuing celebrations and the happy times this family would be experiencing. Not Dianne though, she came back with a personalized invitation to this event, the Carmen graduation party. So Dianne drove in and picked me up after work and we made the drive over to the Cathedral of Madeline, this massive Catholic gothic cathedral. We were some of the first guests to show up. Dianne had made a Queen cake and put the cake in the kitchen with a growing pile of food beginning to grow with each new guest to arrive. In not time there were hams, cold cuts, cut vegetables, potato salad and bowels of “dirty rice”. Boxes of wine, coolers of beer and some kind of alcoholic red slush which might have been good had the day not seemed so cold, were waiting for visitors. A priest finally showed up and blessed the mess and the party began.

Dianne is a natural in groups, she is vivacious, she is great at striking up conversations, self introductions and finding a common thread between her and the person she has just met. Not me I tend to hunker down and sit at my table and blankly stair straight ahead and pray that no strangers comes up to my table and sit down. Dianne is helping Marsha and Carmen and I am guarding our table and trying to take pictures. My camera was having issues but I finally figured out it needed new batteries and I changed them. I still did not get any good images.

We stayed about two hours and figured we had done our duty: brought a cake, smiled and hugged and wished the graduate the best. Carmen was the graduate and the guest of honor and Marsha, poor Marsha looked like she was just about worked out. I know she had already put in a full day at the office and who knows what she did to prepare for this event and she or they still had to finish the party and clean up. Perhaps we should have stayed and helped but I was tired and I wanted to go home…this socialization is wearing me out.

Slow Friday

Its slow today even for a Friday, may have something to do with the return of the sun and fairly warm temps. Actually the whole weekend is looking better and better 70’s by Sunday and beyond. People, even poor folks are away from their phones riding the train, the bus or just walking to the park and does not have time to call the State guy and complain about what ever. That’s cool except that we live or die by the number of phone calls we have come in over a quarter, but at 3:00 o clock on Friday afternoon I just want the week to be over.
As the high pressure builds over the region I am also sensing social pressure building as well. One of he people who works in my office is having a graduation celebration for her sister tonight right after work. Dianne and I are going—I would rather just go over to the hospital for Cafeteria food but not this Friday. Hopefully tomorrow or Sunday I will be able to get my grill out and cook an iron steak I have had marinating for the last week. Anyway have a great weekend…here are train images for this past week

Happy May Day...Not

Its snowing and its been snowing, on and off all morning I hate it. It May, Damnit! Flowers should blooming and trees should be budding but no it snowing! Flower buds are being beaten down and orchards are being frozen and another weekend is being put in jeopardy being another set of days spent huddled over the furnace of my house trying to stay warm and longing for warmer days.

OCD KENDO

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

Old Ladies Rule

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

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

Ah So

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

Service Hell

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

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

What Have I Become?

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

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

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

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

Pray For A Second Wind

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

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

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

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

A Most Outrageous Game

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

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

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

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

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

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

Making Soup A Passing the Time

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

Please Look Awake

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

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

The Wave Has Past or Death and Taxes

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

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

Lake Stink and Taxes

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

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

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

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

Happy Birthday John

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

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

TGIF

Papers Please

Create your own visitor map!

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

I'd Buy That For A Dollar!

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

The best Part Of All

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

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

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

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

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

Where's My VISA

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

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

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

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

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

Reflections

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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