Adolescent Arrogance

I reported last week of encouragement I got from the writers Guild to craft stories from my past. This of course is not the first time I considered such a project but alas, I have never got around to the project but maybe this time we knows? Hometown stories, Not necessarily memoir and fiction text from historical base. That would be the challenge I think changing history and fiction. I don't know if I can do that, change history and fiction. I found at least my personal history doesn't need fiction to liven it up, case in point the most remarkable ride. Actually, I just realized I wrote that story back in 2009. To be exact Thursday, March 19, 2009. If I really have skills I would make a link back to that very posting but that would take real skills. Perhaps When I have more time. I am going to post the image of Gene and I.

I like this photo. I got out of rehab about a year maybe a little bit longer, I felt I was getting my feet back on the ground, to use a bad cliché. I started high school and My life is strange as it was returning to some form of normality. I was getting up actually going to school during the week and on the weekends pretty much hung around the house. This picture was taken like in February if I remember. I can't remember if Eugene had returned to Bishop Kelly. I don't think he ever returned to high school. He was living at his home in the town just west of Boise called Meridian. I'm kind of amazed that we stayed in contact following rehabilitation. Certainly different from each other in a lot of ways except for being quadriplegic. The difference was Eugene actually got settlement fairly sizable though I don't remember how large. Settlement was large enough however to allow him to disown his family move into a long-term care facility in Boise. But until then I would periodically go out to Meridian hang out with Eugene and was really kind of strange. I don't know if Eugene was actually angry or just a prick. I kind of think it was a little of both. Plagued to live the rest of his life a high spinal cord injured male. I broke my neck too but my results were not nearly as catastrophic as Eugene's. I at least had some mobility in my arms and legs, kind of. There's a lot of things I did not understand at that time of my life regarding spinal cord injury. I still had sensation In my hands and legs at least I believe that I did. Eugene did not. Eugene smoked many times, I remember, knocking a cigarette out of his hands when the smoke have burned down to the but and onto his hands and he could not sense the burning flesh. Even if I could feel my hands were in pain I would spasm Probably enough to knock me out of my chair.

I was being – – or so I've been told – – I don't think I was mean as Eugene. It was weird though whenever I was with Eugene I sort of took on his persona. I'm always astounded at how much you know mimicked each other in this photo. Eugene essentially killed himself but it took a long time and in the end I don't think he really understood what hit him. Income through a decade of self-destruction and was climbing out his crafted hole of self-pity. Eugene and actually got himself in the college and got the job at died shortly after by a dumb infection. I lost contact with Eugene way before that. I got on with my life and let him languish. I still regret that. But we did have some interesting times.

A Peek Behind The Curtian

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شركة تنظيف فلل بالرياض وبالطبع يكون عمل تنظيف مساجد بالرياض أكثر صعوبة، حيث أن المساجد هي بيوت الله تعالى ومن الضروري أن تبقى مفتوحة دائماً لأداء الصلوات الخمس ، وعلي الشركة إتمام مهمة تنظيف الموكيت في أسرع وقت ويتم تجفيفه أيضا حتي يصبح جاهزاً للفرش والصلاة عليه في أوقات الصلوات الخمس دون تأخير . شركة تنظيف منازل شرق الرياض شركة تنظيف منازل شمال الرياض شركة تنظيف منازل جنوب الرياض شركة تنظيف منازل غرب الرياض &*&*&*&*&*&*&*& شركة تنظيف موكيت شمال الرياض شركة تنظيف موكيت شرق الرياض شركة تنظيف موكيت غرب الرياض شركة تنظيف موكيت جنوب الرياض on Bus Pass, New Frames and Clean Apartment!

Pretty interesting isn't it? I have no idea what language that script is in. I know that script comes from somewhere in the Middle East but whether it's Farsi or whatever I don't know. I suppose if I really cared I could check it out. I think it's almost as cool just to leave it be. I don't know how many of you ever noticed your comments you can leave at the bottom of each blog that I post it over the years a few folks left comments which I have appreciated. It really is exciting when someone actually reads the blog in response. I have noted over the years that some of the comments I think our machine generated generated by a bot or something. I'm wondering if the comment above is bot generated still it is kind of excitingFor me anyway.

I don't know if you can even check It out but on my screen I can click on certain area and will bring up the statistics page. This page shows me how many page views I have gotten, of course comments, and the needs section tells me where (kind of) but what country the page views might be coming from. Not a whole lot of information but again I'm amazed at how many people in Europe, Russia and other places have tripped upon my blog over the years. I've never expected to get a jillion tests or whatever but it's fun to realize that someone's out there reading. I think I'm followed by about seven or eight people which is kind of a hoot. I've really never gone out of my way to promote my blog I think primarily because the first 10 years or so I was a state employee and basically wrote my blog the first half an hour I was at work is a way to warm up to my day. I really didn't think that was a big issue as far as inappropriate use of state equipment/time but I wasn't going to wave a flag either.

Readers I do know of, I believe, read the blog intermittently. I sense when they first find the blog they read quite religiously for a couple of weeks then forget that if there is life intervenes. This is okay. Again, my main drive for the blog is for me to have something to write every day about. I've long past the thought that I could write enough material for a book – – which is again one of the other reasons I started the blog just to see if I could come up with a couple hundred pages – – which I have actually a couple thousand and counting. So I really think I could write a book and I really need to start soon or think I'll lose that window. Not that there is anything dark happening in my life, actually feeling pretty good except for today I played with a tender tush. I hope beyond hope that it is not a skin breakdown though that thought has been lurking in my mind like the Raven on the bust of Pallis.

I don't know what the script says but I think it's fascinating even more so that the writer took the time to post it. It's probably just a bot, even if it is a bot bit wrote to different comments this bot definitely knows character.

Elevating

I never realized how disabled I was until three years ago when I had my stenosis operation which left me more dependent than I have ever been in my life. Up until that point for some reason I is seen in my disability as an inconvenience but not a disabling condition. Oh, I could sense something was coming, and I would debilitate but that's something far off down the line I thought. I did not think debilitation was relevant to me at the time boy, was I wrong.

Since those days following my waking from the operation which left me more impaired then I had been all my life, I began to contemplate the place that assistive technology plays in my life. Power chairs rocker knives, zipper pulls, it's and electric beds. I take off almost daily (in good weather and bad) in my power chair not thinking specifically that I can be stranded literally out on the tarmac in many times I have causing me know little about stress. Luckily, each time I have been stranded out of the tarmac I've been able to get assistance from altruistic passerby's . I truly appreciate their intervention. There is nothing more unnerving to me then when my systems fail. It's like one seconds the universe Superman, hero of independence in the next second is sitting on the sidewalk at 400 pound piece of art not going anywhere just been admired by passersby. In that instant the reality of your disability is brought to bear front and center in your mind. What is really weird is that you are basically safer having your fail in publicthen at home.

That is what happened to me this morning just after 6 AM. For some reason I had woken up around 4 AM hand had not been able to get back to sleep. Finally around 6 AM I decided to get up and do some cleaning before my home health professional arrived. I cooked a roast yesterday and some other items the kitchen floor was a mess. I had clothes I still had to hang the washing from the weekend and when I went to actuate's my pendant to raise my bed so that I might transfer into my chair to bed would not. The other functions of the pendant worked just not the raising and lowering of the mattress/bed. The bed was in the down position, as low as it would go in a new there's no way I was going to be able to do a traditional transfer from the bed to my chair, I could about one time but not now. I mean I was stressed, a little freaked but I knew that worst-case scenario I could call my brother who would come over and get me out even though he is at work or I can just wait around in my own health person would eventually show up and do the trick but that was still an hour and a half away. I laid in bed and fretted for a while – – there was little else I could do. Then towards 6:30 AM I left at the front of the bed of and I also lifted the back of the bed that changes the better to select a chair and when I did that I realized my hips were very close to the same height of my wheelchair. I realized if I swung my legs ove r the seat and scooted to the site of the bed I can throw myself partially on the cushion of the power chair and then pull myself onto the chair after which packages the power functions of the chair to set me up. This I did! I could tell this was not healthy for my chair up a lot of stress on the front of my chair but I could do it I could make the transfer.

My home health person came over and I got my activities out of the way. I called the manufacturer of my power chair after finding the number of the files for its purchase. I spoke with a young man named Ben. He advised me that rather than a burned-out motor which I sort of thought might be the problem that I should check to see if a wire had come undone on the side the motor. He said many times this was the situation. Later on my brother did come over and sure enough we found the wire which was the culprit. My brother reconnected the wire and then zip tied the wire into place and now I'm safe from having the wire from coming loose. Once again I was back in the race. I would be able to get myself to bed and up again independently.

I'm so lucky to have the technology I enjoy. I must remain vigilant however not it over confident and be ready to accept anybody's help, anytime anywhere.

Corned Beef Anguish

When I moved out of the house and worry I came along with about six cans of corned beef. I love corned beef. I would be corned beef every day if I could but I know that I cannot. I know corned beef is one of the red meats as bad for me but I still love the flavor of corned beef and I am particularly fond of canned corned beef. I don't know why I think I might even like the flavor of canned corned beef over that of real corned beef. I believe I've written before about a meal/dish I make with frozen potatoes, garlic, onion, cheese if I have it. I'm sure in some form corned beef hash that I cooked up some where along the line. This dish is one of my favorites I like to make it on the weekends usually on Sunday. I like this dish particularly because it renders great leftovers. Little by little the usage corned beef. As I got near the end of my stash of cans of corned beef I've been considering purchasing more. When doing so I was astounded at the increase in price. Even more astounding I was shocked at the price of corned beef in the can on the Internet. It seemed like it was even more have to buy six cans at least at a shot. I don't know why the price so shocked me, it just did and I never purchased any of the cans. Been a number of weeks now but I've been without corned beef so a couple days ago when as in the market I picked up a couple of cans the product. As to my nature I went for the cheapest/least expensive product-find. I found for about a dollar less I could get it can of corned beef for about $2.99.) That brand was Western Family the market brand of the store. That's okay corned beef is corned beef on fingers that much difference. Of course I first had to get the corned beef down from where it was conveniently stacked out of my reach. I noticed after I got the cans picked up off the floor that the can was the old-style that one opened with a key. I shrugged my shoulders when I saw the key, truly an inconvenience but I've opened up these cans before and it's never been a problem. I grabbed two cans of the corned beef checked out

The snow fell during the night, not much here and Taylorsville, enough snow to let me know that winter was still with us a perfect reasonto make gabroc. I processed the garlic, I processed the onion and I processed the broccoli. I took the potato rounds from the freezer for that the frozen spuds in the frying pan with the onion broccoli and garlic. I put them on a low temperature then went to get to meat. I put the key in the the bottom of the canned corned beef and turned and I cannot get the seal to break so I figured I was turning the wrong way so I changed, I'm sure weakening the tab, I did this three or four times to finally the little nub of steel gave out and snapped off. I set the can aside and found my other can of corn beef and to my dismay the same thing happened! I have two cans of my favorite product cannot access.

I was not going to let not having can't be slowed me down. I remembered I still have half a pound of fried hamburger from tacos I made a couple weeks ago hiding behind something in the fridge. I found the burner and threw it in the mess. I added the cottage cheese and thought about throwing in a couple of eggs but in the end left the eggs out. And the morning mess was good. I have to cans of perfectly good corned beef that I have to figure out how to access. This can be done just going to take some time and I have that.

Reading Music

click here to enjoy the automated score of this piece of music

I like music actually written music fascinates me. I can kind of site read music but not as I should. I went through flute-a-phone, that plastic monstrosity that public schools used to train students in the old days. The flute a phone itself was a reiteration of and even uglier piece of plastic. Then of course three years of accordion but I really should've learned to sight read. I learned enough to get by but still I should know much more. In college however I took my ability to sight read to another level.

I was living in the dorms – – Chafee Hall. The hall is/was located on the east end of the campus. My major was psychology and the psychology section of the library was actually on the second floor of the main library. Early on in my freshman year I learned that the music section of the library is also on the second floor not far from the psych section. I also learned there were photographs scattered through the music section of the library students could use to listen to music. Clunky square boxes with the turntable on top and the controls and three or four headphone jacks so multiple students can listen to the same piece of music. But I also found that year was that there were countless scores of music shelved in the library. Soon, my research in the library was augmented by listening to music. I spent freshman and sophomore years listening to everything from Broadway musicals to concerts and sympathies of the classical nature. As I indicated I also realized the library also had scores to the music. I enjoyed reading the musical score to say West Site Story as well as the Fantasticks are Fiddler on the Roof. Then I got really ballsey when I started listening to George Frideric Handel. I actually found the scores to the organ concerts. I played a game to start reading the music as the concert started and I would when if I ended up finishing a piece of music and the music finished in my headphones.

So I've just recently discovered that many of the musical greats have YouTube versions of their music online, the video follows the music so you can actually listen to the video and watch the score zip by the same time. I'm currently working on Haydn's third mass or the Lord Nelson would have loved for years. It was great fun and enjoying this new form of technology.I haven't had a lot of time to explore the many options open to me now. Just knowing I don't have to purchase complete scores is quite a load off my mind not that I was going to. I actually have a couple scores already The Lord Nelson being one of them. I don't know I suppose that the same concept holds true on tablets and maybe even the cell phone that I might be able to play this game of Follow The Score,on the train, on the bus or I might want to be – – you got a love technology.

Sweet Dreams

I don't know how I got on St. Joseph's mailing list and I did sometime around Christmas I received a pretty hefty package from St. Joseph's Indian School. It was the standard package please give us some money and you  can have everything in this envelope  consisting of two pages of stickers, two pages of adhesive address labels with my name and address neatly printed, actually very nicely done, some hand-drawn ending  with kids pictures of the reservation I suppose and a dream catcher as well as the regular paraphernalia explaining  why I should be sending them all kinds of money. And I'm more than welcome to keep all the stuff came in the mail even if I don't send them any money – – like I'm going to bundle this whole pile stuff and send it back. I mean this package of materials must have cost a bundle to produce and mail out. Don't they (the Indian guys) know what I'm thinking?  Hey why should I send them money for them to produce more of this weird stuff and send it looking for more money? I promptly  threw it all away except for the mailing labels and three Christmas cards. I didn't think much more of the event until last week when I got another package for St. Joseph's Indian School. This package is identical to the first package except minus the Christmas cards I assume since the mail out was done after the first of year. I cannot believe this. I really believe these guys actually think now as we get close to tax season that all these guys that stiffed us for Christmas by going to do a taxable donation or something. I was almost pissed but I threw the whole package on my little desk and forgot about the mess until earlier this week and Cindy my cleaning person came over.

Each visit Cindy focuses ona specific area to attack in my abode of chaos, besides the regular apartment cleaning, and this visit that was the the desk area and of course the first thing she latches onto is the dream catcher. I would not say dream catchers fascinate me but they do hold a certain interest, after all I love Stephen King and he writes about dream catchers I'm going to be interested. Still I regulate items like dream catchers to the same area as numerology and zodiac signs. But Cindy probably believes in the dream catcher concept and of course the first thing she did with dream catcher in hand ties into the boom over my bed the boom which my trapeze hangs from. I figured it was easier to let her apply the dream catcher Ben to get into elongated discussion on the hocus-pocus of boogie-woogie Indian stuff. I don't know if I like the dream catcher hanging off my trapeze bar but it's out of my way and makes my housekeeper happy.

I cannot say for sure it is too soon to tell but maybe just maybe I am falling asleep quicker but I go to bed, I am staying asleep longer and when I do wake up it almost feels as if I go back to sleep immediately. I'm not going to give the dream catcher credit right now but I must admit I might be thinking about it. Good to give it a couple more weeks and who knows maybe I'll send a check to the St. Joseph's Indian School…

Writers Guild Lunch

Mark and Jerry, homeboys flashing signs at the Village Inn

Today was another full day of activity and commitments. I like these kind of days make me feel like I'm still a useful part of the world I live in. It's the best part of this day was the Writers Guild lunch, you will remember the Writers Guild is that small federation of one professional writer well maybe to professional writers and one want to be the latter would be me. I've noticed that Writers Guild is becoming almost therapeutic for me in the regard of support in my writing fantasies.

Y'all might remember my friend Lori, is actually employed as a professional writing instructor the local community college. She knows what she's doing. My friend Jerry is a real writer with books and the column under his belt that is written for years with one of the local dominant newspapers here in Salt Lake. Both of these folks in put I totally value. Your member number years ago after a Writers Guild lunch break displayed some of my donkeys and art that Jerry actually purchased some of my work! This is really a shock in my artistic maybe feel the need to be working more on my artwork. I should have but I did not probably letting a golden opportunity slide through my fingers.

Today it was me again. We spent a little time on Lori what she was up to as we did with Jerry and some of his projects but it seemed in an inordinate of time's was spent with me and a writing project that I should pursue. Of course, me being the exhibitionist I am, enjoyed the adulation's and the stroking certainly put me into a “why not I can do that” thought process. Jerry went on and on, and Lori certainly supported Jerry's thought process. In short the thought was I should consider producing some young adult fiction about life in the 60s Idaho be a teenager with a disability in the less than supportive environment. I of course considered such writing but never really been coached on such a possibility of ideas on how to positively effect and ending I would enjoy. Actually, I have written a number of posts to the blog over the years which I think I might go back and examine and see what I might have. I then could add a few more posts about specific events in my post disability adolescence . I need to really commit to a project like this – – strike while the iron is hot. So why not give a shot? What I got to lose? I'll be sorry if I don't?and all the other clichés that go with such a commitment.

The next round of storms was supposed to come in today, the storm is supposedly a slow-moving storm. I have expected to be pushing through horizontal snow at the end of our lunch but the sun was out and oddly the day looked bright and promising as we broke up and headed are various ways. I had been fortified by two of my best friends into still thinking that somewhere deep inside I still might be a writer of some sort. Hopefully I will have something to show a report at our next lunch.

Enhancers Of Chaos

I have often referred to myself as the destroyer, the Great Destroyer but ever since I came home yesterday from my days outing into a perfectly ordered apartment I've been trying to be careful not to do anything to mess up the place. But it's strange matter what I do I seem to drop something, spill something or break something. So yes I do some destroying but more often than not I do something chaotic, it seems I am an enhancer of chaos. I was born to help ordered reality to non-order. Now I don't think this is a good thing per se but does not the universe need enhancers of chaos? Natural breakdown is part of the natural order I'm only doing what is natural.

Still being the Enhancer-- which makes me sound like a superhero or super villain – – of chaos you would think that I would don't get frustrated when my actions result in either things not working correctly, not being able to perform as I would like or just making my environment hard to appreciate and enjoy. I have this drawer in the kitchen that I pulled and have placed the board across the open drawer acting as a work surface. In the process of doing this I have pushed the front of the drawer completely off. I know that is difficult to visualize but imagine the drawer with the front so it's just the space/open space that still has everything that drawers have in them in the kitchen when there's more to the top. Now remember a number of months ago my occupational therapist was going to put hinges on the back of the board mounting the board to the counter so I be able to lift the board up to get to the items in the drawer. I hate think about how my OT has sort of dropped the ball on the drawer project. I have to watch every minute when I'm working on that surface but I don't wish that drawer and so far that the work surface tumbles and everything on it tumbles to the floor or in my lap. These inanimate objects that I tend to animate, so easily, due to my chaotic coefficient is just doing what it wants to do but then I have to figure how to restore order to the chaos I've made. Enhancer are not really this ordering really pisses me off. Then there is tipping of my was a desk top in my living room. This surface is usually covered with pens, pencils, mail opened and unopened, art supplies usually stacking layers. This goes on until invariably I backed my chair into the corner and everything falls to the floor this is a major mess is not me feel good at all.

Whining as I have been is not been that unproductive. In fact I'm beginning to feel pretty good about my life in chaos. I'm positive that I will not magically start living and ordered life but the job that Cindy my cleaning person does is so good that I want to fight my natural self and reign in my chaotic features. I built this last month when she cleaned and worked kind of hard to bring this about enough that Cindy noticed and mentioned as much. My goal now is the doing better this next period of time to get even more positive strokes. I me after all is that all about the strokes ;-)?

Bus Pass, New Frames and Clean Apartment!

Today was a pretty good day. I accomplished three things and spent way more money than I had anticipated but in my little mind I guess it had be done – – spending the money. But I was busy and I was out of the apartment to important things for me especially since my regular Tuesday morning meeting had been canceled. The days have warmed up even though the nights are called the snow is falling recently and many of the sidewalks that I want to use are still quite clogged with snow ice I sense the earliest stirrings of spring. The days of grown longer, winter does not stand a chance matter, the hours and minutes of daylight overrule the darkness bringing on hope. I figured it was time to reclaim my bus pass which I last more than a week ago but state capital. The holder of the pass, one Andrew Riggle, who is ever present at the Capitol building when the legislature is in session, of course was there today. I decided to make the run-up and grab the pass.

The trip was pretty straightforward – – what used to seem like forever and very challenging – – is now swift and easy as pie. I the train to the courthouse stop, and then boarded the 500 up to the Statehouse. I started at the cafeteria. I figured it was going to take a while to find Andrew,  because I was sure Andrew would be in one of the meetings scattered through the whole legislative complex. Fortunately I was more than lucky seeing Andrew as I rolled into the state House cafeteria. I couldn't believe my luck. We visited briefly I surrendered the pass I had gotten from the legislative intern and Andrew gave me my pass which looked like it had broken in half which is kind of weird but oh well a bird in the hand.

I felt pretty stoked so I decided I would head for  Costco on the way see what it would take to replace my glasses I destroyed. I'm always startled at how different Costco is during the week as opposed to the weekend. So much more civilized during the week. Again I was shocked at how smoothly my operation went at the Costco. I found that the exact  frames I destroyed, in stock and the tech would make the change while I waited. The only pinch in the whole operation was the frames, $71 altogether cost me $85 by the time I got out of there. Once again, I figured cost of doing business and try not to think about it. It's the end of the month by state pension deposited yesterday and my Social Security should be in by tomorrow I'm okay.

But the best part of my day was coming in the apartment on my return trip. Cindy makes any person had been in today. But she did an astounding job. I love my place, once Cindy has been here. Everything is clean. I saw her little bit this morning before I left for the capital and she kind of complimented me on how well at The house in the last two weeks. Her comments stroked my ego. The place really looks like an adult lives here – – go keep up the illusion.

 

And the last thing that I accomplished was calling Utah transit Authority and replacing my broken bus pass. I was informed that any puncture, breaking each other care to the bus pass somehow breaks the past and the pastoral no longer work on electronic equipment that identifies the user. The authority is sending me out a new pass – – no charge!

The day cost me real money probably upwards to a couple hundred bucks but it was situational. It's not like our law, glasses everyday in the cleaning person comes twice a month – – I may have to rethink the frequency of her visits. Still though it was a pretty good day.

Mr. Irresponsible

I started wearing glasses probably when I was about seven. At that point in time I wore glasses minimal just when I was in class or reading. I think having glasses was my really first experience with true responsibility and what I remember most I didn't do too well in his department. There wass a giant field, a 40 acre field between our home in the main road and Boise Avenue the main artery that went in town. The surface of this 40 acres change from year to year. Mostly the service was qualifies, similar to a rough lawn. This texture was from alfalfa when old man Johnson ran hay. Other years the planned corn, the corn years left row upon row where the corn had stood.

I wore my glasses and had a cool little pouch which fit on to my belt. I thought the pouch was cool because there's nothing else better I can say. After all, glasses or glasses and four eyes are four eyes. Actually, nobody really made fun of me, I just felt persecuted for having to have corrected vision. As I said, 40 acres stood between us and the main road and every morning I had to cross that field or go the long way following the road up to the corner that up to the main road cut across the field was much faster. So every morning, I would fly out the front door crawl under the fence and tear across across Johnson's fields. Then in the afternoon I came home the same way. Crossing the field when it was alfalfa was much simpler than negotiating deferrals and Johnson had planted corn. It didn't matter what was planted it seemed like once a year crossing the field I would lose my glasses. Either the whole pouch somehow fell off my belt or the pouch was not secured and the glasses popped out. I would be devastated. I have to praise my parents for not thrashing me present must've cost a bundle in those days in our family. I always retrace my steps moaning and groaning and sometimes even crying and always praying (I really was a believer in prayer or maybe just superstitious behavior, I would try anything.) Sometimes I actually found the glasses but more often than not they were never seen again.

Today, I have to wear my glasses all the time I am conscious. I accept I am at that point in my life where I'm always looking up from my glasses so I can read things up close. My glasses are prescription of course and I have prisms, the invisible kind. Thank goodness I never lose my glasses now. Now, I'm just irresponsible and still the destroyer. Today, I had tilted my chair back to ease the pain off my butt, I had my glasses riding on my forehead. I've had this set of glasses about a year now little over a year and they're beginning to stretch out meaning the glasses don't stay on my four head like I wish they did. Invariably when I am tilted back the glasses will slide off my head in her onto my lap or they'll fall under the floor. Today, the glasses fell onto the floor. I can't remember if I got a phone call or what but something distracted me. I forgot everything and tended to whatever was taking my attention and sure enough when I went to find my glasses what I found was the remains. One Temple was completely destroyed the other was hanging on by just a screw. I was able to twist the remaining Temple somewhat in the place to where the glasses well enough to balance them on my nose I'm going to have to replace the glasses, thank goodness I have my backup pair of the glasses I wore before these. I got the broken pair from Costco so the next day or so I plan to make a trip over there and see how long it will take to replace the frames. The lenses are still good I just need frames and one of those nifty replacement policies.

Poor Man's Roast Beef

Sunday night and I have a meatloaf in the oven. It seems I've been cooking this little meatloaf for hours but maybe I'm just anxious for one of my favorite cuts of meat. Does meatloaf even count as a “cut” of meat? I'm going to count meatloaf as such. I was kind of surprised I had to go back and check to see how many meatloaf references I have and I have more than I thought. Some have to do that a lot now at 2500 posts I've just about covered everything—but still hopefully I can do fresh twists on all items.

I call meatloaf the poor man's roast beef. I understand there are some people who do not like meatloaf which I find hard to comprehend. Friday was “food box” day. That is when the good bank delivers boxes of food and bread to qualified residents here at Plymouth View. I do not qualify for a box but I go down every food box day just to enjoy the excitement of the seniors getting the food boxes. Actually, I don't know how many the seniors actually like getting food boxes I just like the event. The food bank always delivers way too much bread so I always grab a loaf or two if it's bread that I can deal with. Truth is I rarely take any bread, just because of the calorie content. However this week all they had was white hamburger buns and I figured it would be good to have some white bread to use for meatloaf. I'm due to put together a meatloaf… Soon. Hamburger, I guess is a cut of meat that is often relegated to folks of low income. I guess I understand that. I have written about how the frequency of hamburger based dinners at our home tended to increase as we consumed the poor beef Steer flextime who had been sacrificed for our family's freezer. All the white butcher paper wrapped bricks of protein be they ribs, steaks or roasts had been systematically devoured. Even though we regularly, every Friday night, had hamburgers we still had blocks of one-pound packages left which of course turned into spaghetti sauce, sloppy Joe's and my favorite, meatloaf.

I am loving the smell that is filling my apartment at this writing. The meatloaf I cooked today from its frozen state in the refrigerator. I've never done this before, cooked a frozen piece of meat straight from the freezer but I read up on the concept and found I just have to have an inner heat of 160°F. This meatloaf is a mini-meatloaf, I picked up a few weeks ago that the market and the “quick sale” bin. I was a little reticent because who can make a better meatloaf then I? But I figured at three bucks for complete, granted,small meatloaf how can I go wrong? And if I didn't get the meatloaf I would experience buyers remorse. I bought it and stuck it in the freezer.

I actually pulled the steak from the freezer when I took out the frozen meatloaf. I washed my usual Sunday load of clothes today and didn't feel up to destroying the kitchen any further than I have this weekend especially after the frijoles event. The meatloaf one out, I want to use the package before became so freezer burned the meatloaf would be non-usable. I'm going to throw a potato into the microwave, pull out what's left of my ketchup and have a great little poor man's roast for dinner… Bon appétit.

Stir Crazy Me? Not Yet!

I'm not here yet, but it's coming

I'm doing okay for February and snow and ice so think that I don't dare leave the apartment complex just yet. This last week that made one trip away from the complex and that was for my Thursday book club. Actually, if you count going out Tuesday morning to the bus stop in getting stuck I guess that would be a trip out but I hardly count that. I'm not yet buggy, stir crazy or whatever. Luckily I'm out of apartment complex large enough about I have enough stimulation to ward off the insanity that comes with being locked in. Got food and resources, an Internet connection and people to visit with should I feel the need. Granted, many of these folks are folks that I would not typically visit with but they are good people and provide adequate social interaction.

I've got projects. This weekend's project has been making refried beans from real dried beans. Couple weeks ago I made refried beans from a can of beans which was okay. I wasn't totally pleased with the refried beans but they worked for what I needed. The trouble is you can only make as many frijoles as you have cans of appropriate means. Now if you have bags of dried beans that's a whole different ballgame but takes a lot more work. Actually I started my project on Thursday I don't have a bag of beans into some water to soak overnight. At the end of this time the beans were getting a little soft but they were a long ways from being what I would use for refried beans. So I dug out my crockpot but the beans in and cook them all day. Last night when I tested them they were still slightly crunchy so I put them away and put them on again this morning. Finally, midday the beans were socks I think they're going to get so I got my mixer out and beat the beans into a quasi-mash. I really need to get a potato masher that's what everyone uses but I still think might beans were totally ready but I was totally ready to get the project underway. I took the beans with garlic and onions, green peppers and that could in jalapenos and about half a cup of juice from the can of jalapenos. I used about 3 cups of chicken broth to cook the beans in. Now I have to admit along the way I may have removed 2 cups of beans while they were cooking towards the end just to eat. They were darn good, I think I would be just as happy to have eaten these beings as beans and not necessarily mashing them up but I was focused on refried beans and that's what I ended up with. Trouble is, I was kind of tired of the beans by the time I finished mixing them up with the beater to put everything in a plastic box and shoved it in the refrigerator. I tend to use the beans with my Mexican dinner plates.

This project, left my kitchen in a shambles. I am going to clean a little bit tonight and maybe tomorrow.I can't remember if more snow is forecast for tomorrow or Monday but more snow is coming. I need broccoli, bananas, grapes and. I'd like to cook a roast. I may try to make a run for it in the morning if the looks at all doable if not maybe I'll just make garbroc and call it good.

Easter Seals – – Idaho

click for early video of Easter Seals – – Idaho

More snow fell today. Fortunately for me I had no appointments to consider nothing and no reason to go outside the premises of my apartment complex. Any snow removal which has been accomplished yesterday now is all in vain when the days new snowfall. A good day to hang out and do some research. Couple days ago I reached out for an old friend of mine. You and I have known each other for about 50 years. He has cerebral palsy and you know I have spinal cord injury and we become old man which is really hard to fathom. Anyway, I want to follow up with Henry for some time, his name is Henry we met at Camp Easter Seals which I did a fairly good job of describing in a posting about nine years ago. Every couple of years I get an itch to develop Some sort of document or media representation of that period of my life. And let me be specific and saying not necessarily of my life of all the campers lives who went through time at Easter Seals. As much as I may have just been this place in my 2009 posting the truth is I loved my time at this place. I'm infected now with the desire to make contact with other folks from that same period of my life. In my research of this facility I'm shocked that there is not more information available. Thus far I've been able to find one video which is rather crude but identifies the camp and its reason for being.

Camp Easter Seals which became camp Roger C. Larson and which is now a camp for the Coeur d'Alene Indian tribe was run and maintained by Washington State University or WSU. Staffed by faculty and health sciences students mainly occupational and vocational therapy students. I know that WSU has the historical records of this facility and staff who attended for the years. They probably also have a treasure trove of images taking over that time. I think for the next couple months or whatever I'm going to start making inroads to see if I can get a hold of some of those images to document if nothing else my time at this facility. My friend Henry spent a lot more time at this facility than I do with years. I think I only went there twice over the summers. I'm sure my friend as many more contacts that can shed more light on this history.

In my own personal research I found two images of Henry and myself taken and I believe in 1968. These images were taken on a path from our cabin (72^nd K cabin) to the docks where we swam every day. I have included with this post the video an gives a good representation of camp and some of the activities which we participated in. Heartbreaking, for me, the video does not show as much of the buildings as I would've liked but does a good job of showing some of the activities. I apologize for the video being as crude as but keep please in mind, this video was made in 1962. I just wish the audio was present but you get what you get.

My buddy Henry

Me (1968

I Wanna Be a Paperback Writer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xmVwo2DxkGg

I love books in the paperback format there's just something liberating about paperback book. I probably really started reading paperbacks in the seventh grade and I started hanging around a crowd of readers. I've always liked to read I just don't read well. Reading does not come easy to me, reading never pass, but I still love the sensation of falling into a book. I struggle to read but I find the process highly rewarding. I went to school, grade school, on the college campus that I graduated from. We were a training ground for potential teachers we called them cadet teachers or student teachers. I often thought we were the guinea pigs for a lot of educational things going on. I worked a number of years in a program called SRA (Scholastic Reading Achievement). This was a graduate of reading program that encouraged the participant to increase speed at which they read as well as the comprehension. I suppose it was a good program but it sure didn't help me in my reading speed. Unless, I was so in and as a reader that exposure to these reading principles levitated me at least to the level where I am now.

In junior high I started hanging with the group of guys that read. One of my best friends at that time got me reading Ian Fleming novels i.e. James Bond 007. One of my other friends turned me onto Kurt Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle and Slaughter House 5. I loved the convenience of having the book, the whole book, stuck in my back pocket that went with me wherever I went. I was never alone and always had something to do. I had something to look forward to and that was reading, reading the paper back in my back pocket.

Paperback Writer was released by the Beatles 1966, in June of that year. My accident was in July so I have almost a month of listening to this song which definitely had major impact on my life. I don't know why, perhaps my mother was a big influence on my writing desire but I love playing with the idea of someday being a writer. I wrote poetry because I thought it was simpler than prose. A poem I could start and finish in one sitting. A story or short story, not only did one have to write but then one had a proofread afterwards proofing I found dreadfully intimidating. I did not have the patience nor the skill sets to be a good proofreader. I kind of wish I had had someone who has sat down and drilled these writing skills into me. Only now, at this late stage, I'm beginning to feel I can come to grips with proving and rewrite. I don't know if I'll be able to totally pull it off but the process does not freak me out as it had once done.

I love the whole song PaperbackWriter, I love the concept of expanding the book just because whoever the person is writing for wants more words or changed one way or another. The writer is totally mercenary and I find that totally intriguing. I want to be a writer someday and above all else a paperback writer.

the

Worthey And Love Is Blue

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xs7QyPIlpWc

In 1968 the Vietnam war was raging, my older brother was in Vietnam as it raged and I was in my second year of disability. I pretty much got the lay of the land down as far as living in a wheelchair in Boise Idaho. Accessibility to anything with a challenge but I found with a little bit of tenacity and support I can just about bring up anything. I was 17 and even with partial quadriplegia I was still quite a handful. Somewhere along the line I figured I was going to have a normal life as I could pull off. Granted my parents pretty much felt the same way but I think they're a bit perplexed on how to do it. I think my parents were overwhelmed with taking care of me and the rest of the family. I, of course, was oblivious to the stress and strain I put on the family and pretty much went on my selfish mid-teen way trying to find my life as a teenager with a disability.

I had not realized how many folks with disabilities were running around Idaho at the time. There were enough that private nonprofit entities had gotten quite a stronghold in the do good business in that area. Easter Seals was a heavy hitter in the doing good arena. Easter Seals foundation had put together a camp for kids with disabilities. An actual, fly away from home, camp on a bona fide lake in northern Idaho, almost too beautiful for eyes to contend with. The camp of course was called Camp Easter Seals. The private nonprofit organization rounded up kids with disabilities for two camping sessions during the summer one for younger kids up to be 16 and then another for 16 to 18-year-olds. The camp was beautifully built on Coeur d'Alene Lake in Idaho , actually Idaho was on one side of the lake the state of Washington on the other. The camp would host approximately 70 to 80 campers . The camp was staffed by students from University of Idaho and Washington State University, the students were from the Department of physical therapy, occupational therapy and pre-medicine. The camp had about 14 cabins spread around the campgrounds. Each cabin was named for the organization of our company which supported are donated the cabin.

There was only one cabin for people who used wheelchairs for mobility, just cabin was coed and house the only washer dryer for the camp.The capital course is flat with a fine concrete floor perfect for wheelchairs. We were cabin 72 the Kiwanis cabin and of course I shortened that to the 72^nd "K" cabin I thought the name sounded military. I think I was the oldest kid in the cabin that summer. I was the only kid would actually been able-bodied on time. I pretended I hate going to the camp. Actually, I love going to the camp. We boarded some company aircraft myth was up to Coeur d'Alene Idaho. For a week we got away from our parents and family and the restrictive environment of an able-bodied world to spend seven days with folks that similar challenges and frustrations and desires. I eventually went three sessions. I was a bit of a bad boy with the same time a role model. These kids never had a chance to be badly influenced in their disability lives. The year I was the oldest person in the cabin I sort of got attached to a young spina bifida named Worthington or just Worthey. Worthey was a cute little kid. He carried a transistor radio with him everywhere he went. That summer I turned them on to the musical piece Classical Gas by Mason Williams. Worthey was transfixed by this music and everything and I hear time I hear this song I I think of Worthey. Somewhere, I have an image of Worthey but couldn't find it for today's post. But I do have a link to the music video. I lost track of the little kid or the years. But like to know what happened to him.

Stopped By Snow

My toes can be a mess. I really have not been a good steward of my toes over my lifetime. I have to praise my former wife Dianne on her attempts to keep my toes and more specifically my toenails in check. I used a fight her attempts to trim my toes and keep them not only presentable but healthy. I hear and now publicly apologize to DD for being such an obstructionist to her efforts. I am now, in an effort to practice adult good health decisions, seeing a podiatrist every six weeks to the nail trim. Today was my follow-up to a trim six weeks ago. I really did not anticipate any problems getting to my appointment after all the podiatrist is just 40 blocks south of my apartment complex. Taylorsville. I figured I would just go to the intersection cross the street to my bus stop and go. I don't know what I was thinking really. I saw the snow yesterday. I also knowledge of the fact that I saw the snow last night coming down as I went to bed but I did not think snow would be an issue for me this morning making my 8 AM appointment.

I actually started going to bed early last night, I did not make it, so that I can be sure to be up early to catch the right bus to get me to my 8 o'clock. I was kind of surprised at how well everything went this morning getting up, dressing even making breakfast. Yesterday during the storm I made sure that the guys who are dozing our parking area pay special attention to the sidewalk that leads to the gate to the sidewalk which surround the building. They did a good job but they stopped at the property line. I cannot fault them for working to the letter of the law but she would've appreciated a bit more spiritual interpretation of that snow removal. I wish they could have cleaned the past to the bus area itself. This morning when I got to the end of the gate I met a three or 4 inch wall of snow just on the other side of the property line and even more snow up and down the sidewalks and especially the bus stop. I don't know what I was thinking because I knew there is no way that once I got into the snow I would stop or be stopped by the snow itself. Sure enough about 6:45 AM I was up to my axles and snow and I wasn't moving anywhere.

I stayed in that exact spot for the next 15 to 20 minutes trying to flag down somebody someone who could help me get back on to the sidewalk or the walkway back to my apartment complex. It was still quite dark and the snow was still coming down slightly. It seems the harder I waved trying to get people's attention to let them know I needed help the happier they were the wave back. I can't imagine them thinking I was one of those bizarre wheelchair people that sits on the side on the Street waving tothe people trying to bring happiness in their lives. I was not panicking because I knew that sooner or later I would find someone – – in fact I even corralled a high school student who was lumbering by and asked if he would stop at the fire department and send someone down to assist me. The student assured me he would advise the fire department which was two blocks down and on the weight was high school. No one ever showed up but that's okay, they may have, because finally three blokes came walking up and asked how they could help and soon I was happily traveling the walkway back to the apartments to my warm apartment.

I spent the rest of the day trying to find a way to get my bus stop clear of snow. I did speak with one representative from Utah transit Authority collecting wealth be able to bring about some assistance to clean out my bus stop tomorrow. I also need to contact the city of the state of the county where is responsible for the sidewalk next to our building and the Park adjacent to our property to see who can remove snow from that long stretch of sidewalk. I don't imagine this is going to be a quick fix but I need something done by Thursday, day after tomorrow, when I have to go be part of Next Chapter book club. I am just thankful that is 20 February and that this winter is almost over as opposed to it being October and the snow season just beginning. Overall it's been a pretty nice winter season as far as snow and the lack of it goes.

Thank you Very Much

The snow came in today white and cold. What is been a very warm and dry winter is now turned cold and snowy. Things aren't looking too bad though, however I did not go out today, tomorrow however I should make up for being a shut in today. I have 8 o'clock meeting in the morning with my podiatrist and then later in the morning in downtown Salt Lake I have my Assist meeting. I would not be surprised however, if David cancels the meeting because of the snow.

I actually found about canceling my podiatrist appointment because of the snow and the cold and the ungodly hour of 8 o'clock. But you know what I live right on Redwood Road, all I have to do is cross the street and wait for the bus to take me to the podiatrist because his offices on Redwood Road to just down the street 40 blocks. Granted I have to switch buses halfway in my trip but it really cannot be easier even with the snow. I was a little worried because of the snow on the sidewalk but I sort of sat on management's head here at the apartments and saw that they got the snow off the walkway to the main sidewalk on Redwood Road. Chances are that hasn't been cleaned and snow but that's okay all I have to do is get to the intersection cross the street which shouldn't be too hard even if there's more snow tonight, which very well might be.

There are moments in my day that I very much think we're on the brink of dark times especially folks with disabilities. I was texting with my friend Lori tonight for a few minutes and we texted about how dismal living alone can be sometimes special when trying to stay warm. Lori pays for her heat and I do not, mine is included with my rent, I'm not too frugal with the heat whereas Lori has to be frugal. What are we going to do if the current administration does begin to ravage the social systems and networks of our country and people dependent on entitlements? I try not to think about these scenarios, I know they are coming there really is no other way to play the cards as they are currently dealt. I have yet to get really depressed yet but thank goodness I don't get caught in cyclic thinking about such tragedies. I hope maybe when the time comes the motley crew of people I hang with put together some sort of living scenario that will get us through. In our conversation we made reference to Dickens and some of his characters that live hand to mouth, gutter to Street. I wonder sometimes if we as a culture have romanticize Dickens writings more than he would've liked. In trying to keep with my current fixation of trying to build my blog around a piece of music I quickly visited Scrooge for one of my favorite songs Thank you Very Much these characters make being poor look fun. But maybe when/if the times turn dark, people with disabilities might ban together in small clumps here and there in the community sharing housing, food, transportation and even attendant care. Maybe we can find some one perhaps a kinder version of Fagin( Oliver--Oliver Twist) will kindly sent us on our way each morning to pickpockets, steal bread and an occasional piece of meat… Thank you very much

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jo41y-kZ9WY

Sugar Sugar

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TSP0e5rXUl8

In the spring of 1969 I was well into my third year of life with a disability. I had been to rehab and had been back to the house, spent a year in North Carolina with my brother and sister-in-law to you my parents a break and I was back going to school. I had actually taken home economics as one of my electives for either my junior or senior year electives. Three of the four girls who who sat at my table volunteered on weekends at the state school and hospital 30 miles west of Boise. Idaho STATE School and Hospital was a huge facility housing 600 or so folks with developmental disabilities some very severe. I was a very opportunistic teenager in fact the very reason I was in home economics was because I figured out home economics space was a good way to meet girls. Taking this opportunism a step further I talked the girls into giving me a ride over to the hospital so I can see what it was all about in the hopes of volunteering myself.

Soon I was going over every Saturday. My workstation at the facility was in the crib ward in the main hospital. Crib ward as the name denotes was a portion of the hospital that served the most severely involved residents. We refer to these folks as kids even though most of them were much older than I. They were manifestations of the worst birth defects imaginable. The kind of things I've seen only in books in the parts of the library that were off-limits to most folks. There were a number of kids with hydrocephalus, heads as huge as watermelons. There were other folks could have got jobs working at the Circus in the sideshow. I was kind of freaked at first but soon grew to love the kids. My job was to feed these guys. I usually worked from early afternoon till just after dinner. I basically fed puréed food these guys. I talked to them even though there was no proof that even heard sometimes they would track by voice but basically turned her head and neck touched her cheek with a spoonful of food. It was a messy ordeal but I grew to enjoy the process.

The state school was housed on a huge campus. The buildings were ancient, huge hundreds of residents to a building. In the center of the campus wasan acquainted little building called the canteen, I wish I had images of the canteen. It's very much reminded me of an old drugstore cafeteria. The higher functioning folks on campus hung out at the canteen. The canteen was the campus hangout. I was amazed at the social structure that existed at the canteen. In the canteen of course there was a jukebox in the season that I was there sugar sugar played constantly. There was a number one son on campus it was the Archie's Sugar Sugar. I usually packed lunch and get something to drink at the canteen but you could get hot sandwiches (premade delights thrown into a microwave and nuked). They also had an impressive selection of candy offerings.

I ended up volunteering at state hospital for about a year, later I did a internship there in behavior modification. That is a whole another post. I totally enjoyed my time at state hospital, my time there truly influenced the rest of my vocational life. I met incredible people residents and professional staff alike I always said you can't tell the players start a program and anywhere that is true it was at state hospital.

Roll Like A Man

I got positive reinforcements from yesterday's post one reader really liked the post. So I'm going to do another music video post blog and see how it works. When I was in high school – – remember I had to go to the rival high school. I sat at the seminary table in early morning study hall. This was a place to house all the students who got school early. Someday I'll write more about seminary tables but not today – – but I will say was that many of the folks who sat at the seminary table for also thespians and theater students in one year they put on West Side Story. I was totally blown away with the whole process. I had visions of rewriting West Side Story and having the modified version take place in a rehabilitation facility and everybody in the play would use wheelchairs. I even wrote some music on the road lyrics to some of the songs. Instead of Sharks and Jets again to be quads and paras.

I've been interested in presenting a number of different disability treatments to various pieces of music. When the concept of music videos came about in the 90s I really had visions of music videos of people with disabilities. I do not know how politically correct this would be, probably could be argued the disability focus in these music videos might be somewhat discriminatory but the project would certainly be fun if not liberating. Another group like the Vogues, who I really like a lot was the Four Seasons. And like the Vogues a lot of the Four Seasons music struck particular chords with me. I always liked Walk Like A Man but after my accident the whole concept of walking like a man was hilarious. I sort of like the idea the back of my mind for years and just smiled whenever that song came on during “golden oldies” weekend or whenever. It was when I went to work with the independent living center that I really began to cook on the idea of doing something musical/theatrical with people in wheelchairs. Of course we had a number of people who are paraplegic and staff as well as quadriplegics. I thought it would be great if we could get the music of Walk Like A Man playing in the background while a bunch of guys in chairs did sort of a locomotion across the viewfinder and lip-synch the lyrics. I just think this would be the best video.I can see three or four paras rolling across the stage together in formation lip-synching “walk walk walk”with four or five quads off to the side doing the chorus.

Of course this is just a pipe dream even less than a dream, really since I no longer work for the independent living center. The concept probably isn't even as hilarious as I tend to think it is and probably way from being politically correct but still what fun it would be to put Walk Like A Man into video format. Who knows maybe someday.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YlHsOmTPqaI&index=1&list=RDYlHsOmTPqaIthe

Walk like a man
Oh, how you tried to cut me down to size
Tellin' dirty lies to my friends
But my own father said "Give her up, don't bother
The world isn't comin' to an end"
(He said)
Walk like a man, talk like a man
Walk like a man my son
No woman's worth crawlin' on the earth
So walk like a man, my son
Bye bye baby, I don't-a mean maybe
Gonna get along somehow
Soon you'll be cryin' on account of all your lyin'
Oh yeah, just look who's laughin' now
(I'm gonna)
Walk like a man, fast as I can
Walk like a man from you
I'll tell the world "forget about it, girl"
And walk like a man from you

I Hear What I Want To Hear

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQQuQbtIsdY

THE VOGUES
"The Land Of Milk And Honey"

Play "The Land Of Milk An…" on Amazon Music

Yes it's true for most of my life I spoke devil
And I did my best to dodge anything that looked at all like work
I was prone to standing on corners smokin' cigarettes
And talkin' about anything I didn't know
Oh, how I needed to go

Please take me to the land of milk and honey
To the land of love and sunshine
To the land of milk and honey, Please take me

Time passed and I got a little older
Takin' on trouble just a little bit harder and a little bit bolder
I was thinkin' colder, fightin', lyin', cheatin' & cryin', I gave up
Givin'-up the voices of evil that were pullin' me down
You know, I was givin' up ground

Please take me to the land of milk and honey
To the land of love and sunshine
To the land of milk and honey, Please take me

Then it came and it sounded like thunder
Shot of light in the dark of the night and you were really there
Tellin' me that you care, your warm love took away the cold
And were you walked the cobblestones turned to gold
And when you touch my hair you know take me there

Please take me to the land of milk and honey
To the land of love and sunshine
To the land of milk and honey, Please take me

One of the songs that pulled me through my accident in 1966 was a piece of music by a group called The Vogues. This seemed to be a time from 1964 through 67 or 68 the Vogues music seemed to be everywhere. These guys were overshadowed of course by the Beatles but I always like their music especially In the Land Milk And Honey. For some reason I thought the song was written especially for me especially when I was in recovery from my initial accident. The reason this song meant so much of me was for one line in one verse… “Fighting for my life and teaching karate”. I was enchanted the first time I heard this. I envisioned some special forces guy, who had come to an epiphany in his life and waded through struggle and war and finally got into a good place. I started hearing the song a couple months before my accident. The song took even more precedence in my life after my trauma ,and I seemed to be acting out the struggle, it seemed, just what I needed just to stay alive, to live.

I got on with my life and so did the music. The Vogues music lost favor and soon disappeared from playlists delegated to elevators and grocery stores as background noise. In comparison the Vogues music was wholesome compared to the music of the day. As the years passed the Vogues music became part of the Golden oldies playlists which is all right with me. I loved the sensation I got every time this piece of music came on the radio. I even bought their cassette of greatest hits. I would listen to the selections until the poor batteries ran down in my little meager cassette player.

“Fighting for my life and teaching karate”. I was sure I was only one of the few who knew they were writing about black belt in karate because you can only teach karate once you get a black belt. And of course “fighting for your life…” The guy was involved in the Vietnam war, in the deepest part, relying on his martial arts to stay alive. I was one of the only few wwho knew this.

I don't know why today, I decided to go back and find the lyrics, this piece of work that has meant so much to me. I just wanted to see the words “fighting for your life and teaching karate” written out verifying my elite-ness. The search was no problem, I found one of the YouTube videos and played the version that looked clearest. Sure enough, I heard the line “… teaching karate”. The next search for the lyrics which was a little more difficult but not bad. I pulled up the lyrics and scanned them and couldn't find the words. I couldn't believe it. Somehow I found the only version of the song on the Internet that had put up the wrong lyrics or a distortion of the lyrics. I went to another Internet address that purported to have the lyrics and search those came up wanting again. Then I had to realize the horrible truth that I had miss heard the song for 50 years! I have heard what I want to hear not what was there. My mind slipped in the words that were not there..

I still love the music, particularly this piece for what it got me through regardless of how I bastardize the piece in my mind but I have to come clean now those were not the words I was supposed to hear. I'm still having to process all this. And it's a little difficult but not important and all the other things in my life which I think are. I still wish I was in The Land Of Milk And Honey.