Grrrrrrrrrrrr

I am so mad I could spit.

Two weeks ago the HR office (about 10 states away from here) from my wife's company mailed out their yearly request for verification of my daughter Kristina's status as a full-time college student, as she is over 17 and therefore not eligible for coverage under their health insurance unless she's a full-time college student. We couldn't get the verification at the time because the semester hadn't started, but we weren't worried since school started on the 16th and the deadline for turning in the verification wasn't until the 24th. Plan A: the normal way to obtain this verification is to request it over the university's web site. So, on the 17th we went to the web site and requested the verification, but the most current information was for the (since finished) summer semester. Nothing to show she was registered, paid, and attending classes for the current semester. Enter plan B: I drive down on the following Monday to talk to the registrars office in person to explain our delimma. I meet my daughter and we go in together. We are told that the web site isn't updated with information about the current semester until drop/add is over, but not to worry, fill out this form and it will be processed in 2 to 3 business days (she actually said business days!). So my daughter goes in today (2nd business day) and is told that she cannot get a verification letter until at least tomorrow, probably the next day as the information won't be in their computer until at least then.

never mind that their computer knows she's fully paid for the semester and never mind that her schedule is in their computer showing she's taking a full load, apparently the computer in the registrars office doesn't talk to the computer in the financial aid department. This lady doesn't care about health insurance, doesn't care about my daughter or her problems. If it isn't in her computer, there is nothing she can do. I am driving down again tomorrow and see if I cannot make her care.

you know, these days going to college is all about the internet. You can apply to the school and be accepted (or be rejected) on-line, apply and receive (or be rejected) financial aid on-line, register for classes on-line, your advisor review and release your schedule on-line and show up for classes (which are sometimes on-line) all without ever having talked to a person. How efficient. When I went to college you had to fill out a paper application, mail it in, and then be interviewed by someone in admissions before you were accepted (or rejected) by the school. You then filled out LOTS of forms for financial aid and then sit down to talk to someone in the financial aid office before you got (or was rejected for) financial aid. You then had to actually, honest-to-god, MEET with your advisor - who actually talked to you about your wants and needs, career and life goals, who then actually ADVISED you as to what degree to try for, what classes to take (and at least for your freshman year) had to sign a piece of paper to show they had advised you and approved your classes. You then had to go through the circus of signing up for classes (1000 students in a hot sweaty gym running around to different tables to sign up for each class hoping there were seats available by the time you reached the front of the line - but sometimes you could talk the professor into letting you in even if the class were full if you REALLY needed the class THAT QUARTER or you wouldn't be able to graduate on time.

There were people in the process who's job it was to evaluate each student individually, taking into account each's needs. After all, college is about teaching people, right?

but not today. today it's all on-line, fill out this web-form and wait for an email.

Several years ago, when my son was a freshman at this same university, he was hospitalized for a week, and had to spend two weeks at home recovering. While he was in the hospital I called his advisor and told her about his situation. She sent her best wishes, said not to worry about classes right now, for him to contact her when he was able to go back to school. 3 weeks later he calls her to ask what he needed to do about the missed time and she didn't even know who he was. He was listed in the university's system as withdraw-fail for not showing up for classes. I called her and asked what was going on, she told me that when I called she thought he was a student in one of her classes (which he wasn't), that it wasn't her responsibility to let his other professors know about his hospitalization and subsequently not attending classes - it was my son's. So I then go to see the dean of students, who was the first (and) last person I talked to there who took a personal interest in my son. While she couldn't override the departmental head's decisions regarding my son's status in their classes, she did call and personally speak to them letting them know why he was out. Each department then worked with my son, letting each of his professors know why he was out and in each case they let him resume classes and worked with him to make up missed classwork and tests. The Dean of students had shown me that someone did care, that there were people dedicated to the kids and not just drawing a paycheck, that this was truly an institution of learning and not some unfeeling corporation with limited resources and a bottom line to consider above all else.

and then this stuff happened. (I didn't even tell you about the parent loan application I submitted to cover room & board for this year. I was afraid I'd pop a vein if I continued the rant. more stuff to straighten out tomorrow.)

I have always revered education. it is your path out of ignorance, an opportunity for you to grow as a person and to gain the knowledge to improve yourself. I have always held academic institutions in the highest regard, special places where kids are allowed to finish growing up and be launched into adulthood. When I went to college I was made to feel like they were there for me, to help me be whoever I wanted to be. I envied my children when they started college, here was their turn to have that experience. Instead, it's one gigantic faceless bureauocracy. hell, that's just like work.

Hello. hello. hello. Is there anybody out there?

Thank you all for being patient with me and for the encouragement, your comments to my last post brought me many a needed smile.

Amusing has tagged me for this @#$%&*! meme, which has caused me much angst. I am not very good at tooting my own horn. It took me some thought go come up with these.

10 Things I Like About Me

1. intelligent. No rocket scientist here, but moderately smart. If I can’t always grasp the details of something, I can almost always understand the concept.
2. polite, considerate of others. I cannot remember deliberately saying or doing something to cause someone hurt (since I’ve been an adult). In fact, I will often suffer myself instead of hurting others.
3. good listener. I often find myself the receiver of confidences and/or a sounding board for someone else’s problems.
4. loyal & trusting. I take people at face value and trust them until they give me a concrete reason not to – and then I feel as if I’ve been betrayed.
5. good friend. I have few friends, but I will do almost anything for those I have.
6. responsible. It is rare that I make a commitment and don’t deliver.
7. thorough. I can’t stand to do things half-assed. This frequently keeps me from starting something, as I don’t want to not be able to do a good job of it.
8. open to new experiences. I like trying new things, going places I haven’t been before.
9. I can see both sides of an issue. I frequently will take up the opposite side of a debate if I think someone is less aware or accepting of the opposing point of view.
10. thirst for knowledge. I want to know stuff. I like learning new things.

I have to be honest and say that I slip-up on some of these every so often, but these are things I value and am proud of about myself.

I don't generally tag people for memes, so only if the mood strikes, take up the gauntlet.......

Roger & David, they knew something.......

Hello.
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?

I haven't posted in a while. There are several reasons, some practical, some not.

Come on, now.
I hear youre feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain,
Get you on your feet again.

Work has take a large part of my energy the last 3 weeks. A project we've been working on since January was implemented the weekend before last, and we've been cleaning up since. It has been difficult to think of anything else lately.

Relax.
I need some information first.
Just the basic facts:
Can you show me where it hurts?

Summer has hit full blast. The drought from the beginning of summer has given away to rain, rain, rain. At least, so it seems. I try to mow the lawn, or work on the house, or go outside to play with the dog and it starts sprinkling, or it's just finished raining.

There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ships smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I cant hear what youre sayin.

But it's more than work or the weather. I've been mired in melancholia for a while now. I don't seem to have any mental energy. I've no creative energy. I can't find anything I'm sufficiently interested in to blog about. I read your blogs and I am hard pressed to find a comment, so they wind up being half-assed, superficial blurbs.

When I was a child I had a fever.
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I got that feeling once again.
I cant explain, you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.

I read through posts or comments of the people who went to Blogher and see the enthusiam and the obvious blast that it was and (other than a slight envy that people are meeting in person) all I get out of it is a "eh, so" kinda feeling.

Ok.
Just a little pinprick. [ping]
Therell be no more --aaaaaahhhhh!
But you may feel a little sick.

I don't know right now what I can do to kick myself in the ass and wake up here. It isn't that there aren't things to look forward to. I'm 6 - 8 weeks from my trip to Bahrain. I had been tutoring myself in Arabic, trying to pick it back up and I've lost interest in that too.

Can you stand up?
I do believe its working. good.
Thatll keep you going for the show.
Come on its time to go.

I did wake up briefly for HP7, but that was quickly gone too (I read too damned fast). The movie was good, saw it the same day I bought the book. Somehow, I don't think Balls of Fire will make up for the ending of the HP series.

There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ships smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I cant hear what youre sayin.

So, this is why I'm not on top of my game right now. It's been easier not to post than to. But I haven't stopped trying. The pendulum will swing, as it always does, and I will get back into things. Just be patient with me, I would appreciate it.

When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse,
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown, the dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb.

little black cloud........

"gloom, despair, agony on me.
deep, dark depression, excessive misery
if it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all.
gloom, despair, agony on me."

crappy week so far, hopin' for better.

school daze

in a fit or originality (not) I thought I'd steal this meme from meno.

High School

(just as a preface, I went to 3 different high schools, but all of this is from the last where I was a jr. and sr.)

1. Who was my best friend? Van. He and I hung out and double-dated until we graduated. He and I went to different colleges. After our first quarter (I finished before he did) he invited me to spend the weekend with him on campus. It took him all weekend to work up the nerve to tell me he was gay. I didn't care. from then on, whenever he and I were back in our hometown at the same time, he would take me to the greatest (gay) bars I never knew existed and we would dance the night away. I learned a lot about how gay people are treated here in the south (and maybe everywhere) and it left me with the ability to accept people for who they are and not what they do. I also learned how to gracefully turn down offers for "dates".

2. What sports did you play. none. didn't have the jock mentality, and high school and college sports in the rural south are almost a religion and me an atheist.....

3. What kind of car did you drive? an early-seventies Mercury Comet for basic transportation. it had a 3-speed manual and was fun to drive. For dates I would drive a 1972 Pontiac Catalina ( a boat of a car with bench seats front and back. GREAT make-out car). for special occasions I begged to use our "good" car, a 1978 Buick LaSabre - turbocharged!.

4. It's Friday night, where were you? During football season I would hit the local pizza joint. off-season, I was at home. date night was usually Saturday night for me.

5. Were you a party animal? oh, hell no. I was reclusive, wasn't part of any "in" group.

6. Were you considered a flirt? oh, hell no. (see above). I was also painfully shy around girls.

7. Were you in band, orchestra, or choir? I was in the marching band, orchestra, and jazz band. (marching band = football season after game pizza joint)

8. Were you a nerd? we were called squares back then.

9. Did you get suspended/expelled? oh, hell no. (see #5 & 6).

10. Can you sing the fight song? I remember we had one, I had to play it in band, but since I was always playing it I don't ever remember learning the words. In any case, I can't remember the tune nor the lyrics.

11. Who was your favorite teacher? I guess I would have to say our band director. He worked our asses off but we consistantly made 1's in our competitions.

12. School Mascot? raiders (pirate).

13. Did you go to prom? I went to my junior prom but not my senior. I had broken up with the girl I had invited to the junior prom a month or so before it occured but we went anyway. we wound up getting back together sometime during my senior year and we were still together when I left town to go to college. it didn't last my first quarter.

14. If you could go back and do it over, would you? oh hell, no. (I wrote about this briefly here.) The gist is that I wouldn't be who I am today if I hadn't been the person I was then. but that isn't to say I haven't thought about it!

15. What do you remember most about graduation? losing my tassel when tossing my cap at the end of the ceremony. I was an honor student and it was a special tassel and I was proud of that/it. I went to the school the next day and scrounged another one.

16. Where were you on senior skip day? we didn't have an official senior skip day, and I wasn't hip enough to know if an unofficial one was planned/taken.

17. Did you have a job your senior year? I worked weekends at the local library in the fine arts department - Van was working there and let me know of an opening. The director of the department was openly gay and he wound up hitting on me one night. I was "rescued" from him by the deputy director of the library that night and upon, in turn, I hit on. after I left the library (when I went to college) my former boss was brought up on charges for making anonymous threatening phone calls to another official at the library. I had a second job during the summer after I graduated high school cutting down trees.

18. Where did you go most often for lunch? I didn't each lunch, I went to the school library and worked.

19. Have you gained weight since then? oh, hell yes.

20. What did you do after graduation? During the summer worked for a one-man tree service. Usually I would drive his dump truck and load it with what he had cut down, but I did climb & cut for some time while he recovered from falling out of a tree and spiking himself. near the end of the summer he was driving me over to pick up the dump truck when someone ran out into the road in front of us and we hit him. As it turned out Gary (the one-man) had a suspended license from a DUI so he ran from the scene. After spending 20 minutes at his aunt & uncle's house trying to establish an alibi, Gary took me back to my car and I split. I called the cops and they asked me to help look for him, so I spent the next hour riding around town in a cop car scared shitless we would actually find him (he was made of muscles and had a hell of a temper) - but we didn't. (he turned himself in the next day). needless to say, that was the end of that job. I started college that fall.

21. When did you graduate? 1980.

22. Who was your prom date? I am ashamed to say I cannot remember her name right now. We didn't go to the same high school so I can't look at my annual to see. weird thing is, even though I can't remember her name, I can still see her face and I still know how to get to her house.

23. Are you going/did you go to your 10 year reunion? nope.

24. Who was your home room teacher? don't have a clue.

25. Who will repost this after you? don't have a clue. I'm not omnipotent either.

TGIF - I think?

***edited, go to bottom***

here's a summary of how my week has gone:

Saturday - I installed a window and prepared the wall for the siding.

Sunday - biweekly visit to mom & dad. left mid-afternoon to start on siding and the flooding commenced. got donuts instead.

Monday - sunny all day, left work to start on siding and it started sprinkling. just enough to keep the weeds growing, and to prevent wall construction. ate rest of donuts.

Tuesday - ditto, except with jello & cool whip.

Wednesday - work from 9:00 AM to 9:30 PM putting up siding. fell off of ladder onto old A/C window unit, huge scratch and massive bruise on thigh. (very impressive, too. I'd post a picture but it frightens even me, I don't want to make the internets green around the gills).

Thursday - find out daughter's laptop battery won't hold a charge, take out second mortgage to buy new one. ipod will have to wait until I can spare a kidney.

Friday - come home, plug my cell phone in to charge - it won't charge. battery almost dead. (there are numbers in there I don't have anywhere else and don't know how to replace). time for new cell phone? start on trip to visit hardware store and cell phone store and supper and car breaks down halfway between towns on interstate - in a almost dead spot for cell signal. it starts to rain. do the bizarre-gestures-like-for-surrealist-painting-find-cell-signal-pose and yell into phone and redial umpteen times to call for tow truck & daughter to come get us. (knew there was a reason I kept up the roadside insurance w/Laura's cell phone.) wait 1.5 hours for tow and when it finally arrives and is being winched up onto the truck a part falls out from the engine compartment. take car to shop, resume interrupted trip for hardware getting to the store 20 minutes before close and do my best O.J. Simpson airport impression to get stuff (on opposite sides of cavernous building - of course) - and finally eat supper.

tomorrow - find out if it will take an arm or an arm and a leg to fix the car, start putting the trim back up around the eaves to finally finish wall, and hope I can stay on the damned ladder this time.

if I don't surface after the weekend, you'll know it was 'cause one more incident pushed me over the edge and my head exploded. send CSI over, it will take a whole team to find what's left of my sanity.

addenda

I decided (at her insistence) that since urban-urchin was brave enough to show her injuries, mine couldn't be ALL that bad, so:



actually, it looks better today than it did a day or so ago.

also, I want to leave you with an exchange between the tow truck guy and Laura:

TTG: What year is this jeep?

L: 1988

TTG: And it's still running. (in an admiring tone)

L: it was until a few minutes ago.

8 Things meme

At first I thought I could maybe come up with 8 interesting things about me to share, but the longer I worked on the list the more it became just 8 things about me. I had to struggle to actually come up with 8 things period, but I am nothing if not stubborn so here are 8 things.

1. when I was a young teen I used to sneak my mother's romance novels from her room and search for the sex.
2. from when I was 4 until I was 8 I lived in germany. I spoke german idiomatically (purely in self defense, we lived in a german village and all of my friends were german) but remember virtually none of it. whenever I struggle for a word in any foreign language now, german pops to the top. I have learned (and mostly forgotten) german, spanish, pidgeon greek, and arabic - so far.
3. I have long white nose hairs that I have to pluck. (related to this?)
4. I have recently pretended to remember someone when I didn't have a clue. (I have a terrible memory for names, too.)
5. I am told that I am distantly related to Jimmy Carter (via the marriage of a (now deceased) great aunt). I haven't presumed on that supposed relationship, but I would dearly love to meet him.
6. I hate to perpetuate a stereotype, but I think farts are funny. And I have denied that it was me, even though it was.
7. Once, when I was in college, I had "exclusive" relationships with 3 women at the same time. (I am not particularly proud of that, and have not done so since.)
8. I will tell you that your supper was excellent even if I had trouble choking it down. ('cause my momma raised me right.)
   

I didn't think I lived in the backwoods

there is a baby possum hiding somewhere in my utility room.

***update***

it is nowhere to be found. both times it was seen, it scarpered behind the washing machine & dryer. We looked behind and under both appliances and it was not there. BUT - the dryer vent has a hole in it (big enough for a large rat or rat looking creature), and the vent on the outside of the house has no cap. So, we think it was coming and going through the vent to get to the cat food. I have blocked the end of the vent (without backing up the actual venting process of the dryer) until I can get to the store this weekend to buy a vent cap for outside.

mystery solved. (I think)

blah de blah blah

I have had the most difficult time lately coming up with something to write about. Part of the reason is that I am normally a reticent person - once past the first blush of acquaintanceship where you talk about your history and discover your mutual likes and dislikes - I am normally the listener in any conversation. Even with Laura - she does 90% of all of the talking. I've been blogging just long enough that the remaining topics I am considering writing about will wind up being longer projects (living on crete, for example) and I just don't have the energy right now to find pictures, check my version against Laura's better memories for fill-in-the-gap and correction and do the hard work of crafting a travelogue.

So, today you get...........movies. (I know, big whoop.)

I really, really like movies. I don't actually get to see many new ones. We don't have a local theater, so a movie outing to the nearest one involves a round trip of @40 miles. So - I have to rely on movie channels. Once in a blue moon, when I'm feeling down, I will stay up all night watching movies. (Isn't cable wonderful?) I dip into movies to try them out, sometimes staying, sometimes moving on if it doesn't grab me (I see a lot of pieces of movies). Here's some I've dipped into within the past week:

Love comes to the Executioner (bizarre, kinda liked it)
Mumford (I really liked this one)
Clueless
Psycho Beach Party (parody of '60s beach movies - fun)
Superman Returns (I've only seen the last 20 minutes, I'll eventually see the whole thing)
The Deer Hunter (I can't watch the whole movie again, it was tough to watch the first time.)
Die Hard 3 (I like action movies, I liked 1 and 3, 2 not so much)
That Thing You Do (light fare, not so bad for Tom Hanks first write/direct/produce effort)
The Mark of Zorro (I didn't know that Banderas made a sequel to the his first Zorro movie...ehh)
Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo (don't ask, I didn't hang around long)
The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly (the 2nd best of Leone's spaghetti westerns - Once Upon a Time in the West is a little better, but I have always liked Clint Eastwood's westerns)
Comanche Station (good oater with Randolph Scott)
Six Days, Seven Nights (okay, not much to write home about)
Delicatessen(bizarre french film - black comedy - set in a post-apocalyptic france where the landlord(butcher) of a building kills and dismembers people to provide meat for the tenants of the building.)

I will watch almost any kind of movie - I only actively shun the modern gory horror movies. I was going to list my favorites, but there are way, way to many. I particularly like comedy/satire, old westerns, old war movies, foreign films, and a good many of the action movies. I usually prefer the originals instead of the remakes, although the Birdcage was better (to me) than La Cage aux Falles - it was a bit too vicious for me. The original Producers was better too, I thought that Matthew Broderick didn't do enough to make the role his own, he spent too much time (poorly) being Gene Wilder. I haven't seen much of The Shop around the Corner, but You've got Mail is okay. Stalag 17 was the inspiration for the TV show Hogan's Heros - but is no comparison. I like (some) animated movies, I am a big fan of Nick Park (Wallace & Grommit) from way back. Pixar has made some good ones, it is amazing what computers can do these days. I enjoy camp - or satire - depending on the emphasis. Lust in the Dust and Rustler's Rhapsody are particular favorites, John Waters made some really good ones, but you have to watch for the raunch. Mel Brooks made the definitive satire of westerns (Blazing Saddles) and horror movies (Young Frankenstein). His sendup of Hitchcock - High Anxiety was pretty good too, it was fun to pick out which movie he was making fun of during each scene. Hitchcock defined the thriller for me. Birds, Rear Window, Vertigo. You can't get a better leading man, romantic or comedic, than Cary Grant - from Bringing up Baby to Father Goose to An Affair to Remember. He and Hitchcock made some classics together, the epitome being To Catch A Thief and North by Northwest. Notorious and Suspicion aren't bad, either.

I like to experiment with foreign films. Amelie is a particular favorite, as are several of Almodovar's - particularly Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. I've watched some of Eisenstein's stuff, most famous of which is his (propaganda) film Alexander Nevski. I also like a good bit of Kurosawa's work, including - of course - The Seven Samurai. (which was remade as The Magnificent Seven.) Other of his films were remade - A Fistful of Dollars by Sergio Leoni, one of Clint Eastwood's spaghetti westerns of his character The Man with No Name.

Do you have any particular favorites? I could discuss them for hours.

Have you heard about the lonesome loser?

I went to a concert last Friday night. It was one of those bands who have reformed and reformed and, while having - and played - a little new stuff, knew that people are paying to see them perform the music they made during their heyday - and so 95% of what was performed was. Although this group was fairly popular during the late 70's, early 80's, for some reason none of their albums have been re-released on CD. The only CDs I can find are greatest hits and their recent few (which include mostly their old stuff rearranged).

So, despite not hearing them on the radio or not having CDs (I do have some vinyl, but not a functioning turn table) I was pleasantly surprised that I not only recognized 95% of what they played, I remembered most of the lyrics. I can't remember the name of someone I met 5 minutes ago but I can remember the lyrics of songs I heard as a teenager. pathetic.

The guy I was sitting next to was REALLY getting into the concert and at one (apparently climactic) moment he turned to me and said: "I'd totally go back and relive the 70's." I nodded in agreement and he resumed reliving his past.

But I don't want to relive the 70's (or the 80's, or 90's). I still enjoy (some) of the music, and I have fond memories from those past decades, but - I also remember the pain of growing up, of figuring out girls (which I have yet to do), of figuring out what to do with my life (which I have yet to do), of figuring myself out (which I have yet to do). I have no desire to be a teenager again. I was inwardly confused and outwardly a know-it-all. Not that I'm not that way now, but I think I'm less so - on both counts. I definitely have figured out that I am not the world's foremost authority on anything (while still having strong opinions) and while I am still somewhat confused about who I am, I have learned to live with the confusion.

Sometimes I fantasize about going back in time, but usually so it is so I can keep from embarrassing myself, or to keep from hurting someone who I've hurt, or way, way, in the back of my mind to say that totally perfect line that would've allowed me to score instead of bomb. Sometimes I wish I could go back and re-experience the kids when they were small, or to relive some part of our lives (on Crete, for instance) so I could remember the minutiae of our lives, those memories that Laura has that I can't dredge up.

But just for a while. I don't want to give up who I am now. I may not have achieved the dreams I had for myself but I am comfortable with who I have become. I am by no means perfect, and I am not the man I could be - but I am the man I can be right now. Some qualify their wish to relive their youth with the caveat "only if I can go back with the knowledge I have now". That's cheating - I would be a different person if I went back to relive the past with my hard-won maturity. It wouldn't be the same.

Every year (one of) the college(s) I attended has a day of celebration of the founding - and founder - of the college. I go about every other year with my roommate - and still my best friend (except for Laura, who will always be my bestest friend) and we see what's changed and we recall the memories we made there. Some I still remember, some I have to be reminded of. I have a good time, see a few people I recognize, and am always glad to go home. It isn't the same. I am not the person I was then and am glad of it. I worked hard to grow up and have no wish to revert back to the person I was when I was a student there.

Life may not be as easy as I thought it was going to be "when I grow up" - but it is easier. To be me. I'm not giving that up, it was too hard won.

This old house

We don't have central air. Our house was built in 1947 and we bought it from the (estate of) the couple who built it. So - we have window units in the bedrooms. The one in our bedroom gave up the ghost a few weeks ago, so we bought another. This past weekend I was pulling the old one out and noticed a hole in the window sill under where the a/c was - and the wood around the hole was rotten. I started picking out the rotted wood and used a flashlight to look into the wall and saw - more rotten wood inside. I pulled the shingles off of the side of the house and the wall boards so I could see the stud wall and.........the bottom half of all of the studs and the sill plate are all rotted away. Apparently this window unit (which has been in place since we bought the house) has been leaking water onto the window sill and into the wall for over 15 years. I had s-u-s-p-e-c-t-e-d something when the paint on the plaster wall below the window started cracking last year.

I'm going to save the plaster wall, so I am basically rebuilding that whole wall, sill plate, framing and all from the outside. I will add insulation, of which there was none, too. Since it will take over 2 weeks to get a replacement window that looks like the others on the house, this will take a little while. I can at least close in the wall (framing and sheathing) without the window and then put plastic over the opening until the new window arrives. I was also able to track down replacement shingles - as many of the ones I pulled off, being brittle, cracked. Not to say, they are made of asbestos and cannot be found anymore.

It rained for the first time in a month this past Sunday - when I had removed half of the outer wall and the only thing between my bedside table and the great outdoors was the plaster.

I am wondering who I pissed off in a former life.........

Cars

***edited to add content***

I had a conversation with someone I work with that turned to how many and what kind of cars I've owned. I was surprised at the number, I hadn't realized it was as many as it has been.

These first two don't really count, as I didn't own them. But, as they were mine to use I am including them.

mid-70's Mercury Comet GT:


(only mine was green. it had the same hood scoop and side-stripe, part of the GT package.)

I got my driver's license in 1978. My dad had just retired from the Air Force and got a new job. He also bought a new car. Since he couldn't get his asking price for his old car, he wound up not selling it and it became mine to use. I had to buy my own gas and oil, dad paid the insurance. It had a 302 cubic inch V8 and a 3-speed manual transmission. It was fun to drive. I drove it for 2 years, until I graduated high school and left for college. The car stayed home and became my brother's. When he graduated high school (and joined the navy) the car went to my sister. I'm not sure how long she drove it - she went to a local college and lived at home, so I expect she drove it until it fell apart or was sold or something.

1972 Pontiac Catalina:


(mine was dark green. I think my folks had a thing about green cars for a while)

While I was in college, I borrowed this car from my parents (again, dad had bought a new car and couldn't get what he wanted for the old one, so he kept it) for a while. It was HUGE, a BOAT. It had a 400 cubic inch engine with a 4 barrel carb and there was still so much room under the hood you could sit on the wheel well under the hood while you were working on it (back in the days when you had to - and could - tune it up. Anyone remember how to gap plugs or replace the points in a distributor?) From our years living in Biloxi the salt air rusted out the back end so much it was more fiberglass than metal. It would FLY. You pressed the accelerator and it would sit down and go. You could sit 6 people in it comfortably. It was also an excellent date car, the front seat was a bench seat and it had a roomy back seat. (I still remember the tap-tap of a policeman's flashlight on the window and frantic buttoning of buttons....). My best friend in high school and I went on a lot of double dates in that car. It also drank gas like it just traversed a desert. I didn't use it much in college, I couldn't afford it.

1974 VW Goldbug:

(not the best view, but I think everyone knows what a beetle looks like. I picked this image because it is the exact one I had)

This is the first car I ever bought. It was 1982 and I was living in Atlanta going to Georgia Tech and my only transportation was a bicycle. Not so good for downtown. I had been looking for a car to buy and only had $2400 to spend. I was renting a house from the Dean of Admissions - who, while reviewing my transfer application asked if I had somewhere to live and just happened to have a room free in a house he owned. When I mentioned I was looking for a car, he mentioned that he also had a '66 mustang for sale. He had bought it for his daughter who didn't want some old car. It even had factory air. The only problem from my point of view was he was asking $2400 for it (what a coincidence!) and I wouldn't have any money left over for insurance. I kick myself once in a while for not buying that car, but at the time I wasn't enamored enough of mustangs to find the extra money. In any case, I loved my goldbug. It had a 1600 cc engine and zipped in and out of traffic. The sunroof was great - unless you didn't close it snug. If you didn't, when it rained it would gather water in the roof behind the sunroof, so when you next opened it and were driving around, the first time you stopped, you'd get a lap full of water. My roommate and I drove that car to Niagara Falls to visit his girlfriend. I parked it in my parents driveway when I joined the air force. When Laura and I married and then our first child was on the way, I asked dad to sell it as it wasn't the best family car. I still miss that car.

1969 VW Bus:

(Mine was Orange - body - and white - pillars and roof)

Laura and I had moved to Texas for my Air Force tech school. We didn't own a car. I asked one of my instructors, who had returned from Crete not long before, what did he recommend that would be easy to get parts and get fixed there. He said there were a good many VWs there. We went through the classified ads and found this for sale. It cost $600. I was familiar with VW engines - something I could fix if it broke - and this would have plenty of room for our growing family. So I bought a book (that I still have, with oil smears on many of the pages. check it out. It didn't have pictures. the hand-drawn illustrations are awesome) and bought my first tools (craftsman, of course)). Laura didn't know how to drive a manual transmission, so I taught her on the bus figuring if she could learn how on it, she'd be able to drive any stickshift anywhere. Anyway, I finished tech school and we had 30 days until we had to get on the plane to fly overseas. We drove that bus from Texas (in August - oh. my. god. driving a car with no air conditioning, a pregnant wife and 100 degree temps was........ an experience) to Kansas City to visit Laura's family. On the way, the starter stopped working. The van would run, just not start. The first time we discovered this, we had stopped for gas. So we had to push-start it, and there wasn't anyone to help. There was a rise in the road just ahead for some railroad tracks. I explained to Laura the procedure (put it in 2nd gear and when I holler, let out the clutch). So, I pushed the van up the slope to the tracks. I didn't think I was going to make it. I am about to give out when it finally crests the hill and it starts rolling down the other side. It gets up some speed and I holler to dump the clutch. The car chugs.......to a stop. I run to catch up and can't figure out why it didn't start when I see that Laura didn't have the key turned on. We were having a....discussion.....about this when our savior arrived. This guy offered to push our car with his. Back on our way, we finished the trip to KC by parking on slopes or not turning it off. (As it turned out, the problem wasn't with the starter, it was with a loose battery connection.) After our visit, we headed off to Georgia to visit my family - with no further incident. We left there after a week to drive to New Jersey, where it was put on a boat to be shipped to Crete. We took the middle seat out and put the kids' car seats in the back. Whenever they wouldn't go to sleep, we would load them up back there and they would be asleep in 10 minutes. We drove that bus all over Crete. We would drive into the mountains and find an overlook and park, open the side door and picnic in the van, with views of the valley just out the door. We brought the van back to the states with us, where it finally died. It blew a cylinder and we decided that it was time to move on. I loved that bus, I have a picture of it in my office:

(not that you can tell, but I am in the driver's seat. This was taken on Crete in a mountain pass coming back from Agios Nikolaus).

1988 VW Jetta:


This was the first new car we had ever bought (or since, for that matter). It had a 1.8 liter, fuel injected engine with a 5 speed manual transmission and was a blast to drive. When the '69 bus died, for a series of reasons we decided that it was time to look at new cars. We had narrowed our choices down to either a Jetta or a Honda Civic. After driving around town and having extremely BAD car dealership experiences I learned of a program our credit union offered. You applied for a car loan. You told them what kind of car you wanted (color, make, model, accessories) and they did the looking for you. No dealers, no @#$%# sales tactics. After two days, I was at work when I got a call - they had found a car that met our specifications. I walked from my office down to the front door (the credit union had offices in our building) and the car was just outside. I took it for a test drive. I went by the house and got Laura to drive it. We decided we wanted it. I drove back to work, told them I wanted it, I signed a piece of paper and it was ours. Best damned car buying experience I've ever had.

We had a 5 year loan on the car. So 4 years, 6 months later I paid the car off early. 3 weeks later we were driving down a country road late at night. It was dark, no moon. We rounded a curve and there was this huge dark shape in the road. It was a cow. I swerved around it, ran off the right side of the road, got back onto the road but overcorrected and ran off of the left side of the road and skidded in the ditch - until we got to a driveway and the ditch ended. The car completely flipped 360 degrees (over a mailbox) and we landed back on our wheels. The roof was crushed on one corner, glass was broken out of the rear and side windows, and no one was hurt (thank god for seat belts!). I was able to drive the car home. I called the county sheriff to report the accident and to let them know there was a cow loose on the road. The deputy sheriff showed up the next morning at the house and chewed me out for leaving the scene of the accident. (I wanted to ask how I was supposed to call from the accident site - this was before we had a cell phone - and was I supposed to wait for them there all night?) Anyway, I got a lecture about swerving to miss animals in the road (like I was supposed to hit a 1000 lb animal at 55 mph?) and a hastily written accident report. The insurance company totaled the car. I was upset - I was going to drive this car until it fell apart. It was in good shape, running well and only had 80,000 miles on it. Oh, well - we were on the search for yet another car.

1982 Volvo 240DL:


Having just paid off the Jetta, we weren't in a hurry for another car payment, so we shopped for a used car. Volvo's had a reputation for safety and reliability and the older ones were inexpensive (read, the insurance payout on the Jetta would cover it with some left over) so we bought it. Plus - I still had all of my tools from the VW beetle/bus years and Volvo's too are metric, so score! I bought a volvo book and this volvo for about $2000. (this isn't ours, but it's the same color and model as ours). It had a 1.8 liter fuel injected engine. It grew on us - ugly as it was. It was easy to work on, despite the fuel injection. It was our first automatic transmission. It rode very smoothly, very comfortable. We kept it running for 3, 4 years.

1986 Celica GT:


(Ours is white, with different wheels)

Sometime around 1996 Laura started working. At first, she worked swings so I would come home and she would take the car and leave for work. But we decided that we needed a second car. One of Laura's coworkers had a little white sporty car and one day Laura drove it home. It has a 2.0 liter fuel injected rocket of an engine and drives like a sports car. We've had it ever since - Laura and I take turns driving it. We paid $1000.

1983 Volvo 240DL:

(I won't repeat the picture, it looked just like the '82 above, except it was green)

About a year after we got the celica the volvo started acting up, so we decided to look for another car. (@1997) Since I had the tools, and a few spare parts, already - we looked for another volvo. This one had the same 1.8 liter fuel injected engine as the blue volvo, but was a 4 speed manual (with overdrive - electronically operated, a button on the shifter). We paid $1200 for it. We still had the blue volvo, I took turns driving both volvos. Laura had a coworker who had just left her husband. She didn't have a car, and she had a little boy to take care of. So Laura loaned her the blue volvo. Laura quit that job about a month later and we never did see the blue volvo again. We kept the green volvo for 3, 4 years.

1989 Volvo 760 turbo stationwagon:

(ours is blue, with different wheels)

In 1999 the green 240DL blew a head gasket and so - time for another car. We spent a few weeks looking when we ran across an add in the autotrader for this car. We drove up to look at it and test drove it. It has a 4 cylinder, turbocharged engine with an automatic transmission, leather seats, a sunroof, power windows, electronic climate control (set the temp and it did the rest), so for $1900 it was ours. Up until now, we had had good luck with our used car buys. They gave little trouble, so we didn't have to put much money into them - and I did my own mechanic-ing, and with a source of parts nearby (there's a place in atlanta that takes apart volvos and sells parts - you can get almost anything from them) I didn't have to spend hardly anything on them. Well.......this time we didn't do quite as well. This volvo has come to be known by us as the $800 car. Every time something goes wrong, we wind up spending $800 to fix it. The ignition switch wore out - $800 to replace it. The ECC (Electronic Climate Control) stops working - $800 to replace it. About once a year something would happen and we would have an $800 repair. But - we still have it. Right now, it is sitting in the driveway - needing an alternator.

1988 Jeep Cherokee Limited:


Christmas 2005 we went up to Kansas City to visit and sitting in Laura's dad's driveway was a red jeep. I was surprised to find out it belonged to her dad - he's in his 80's and it just didn't seem to be the kind of car he would drive. The story was that he had a friend who bought it from his daughter. He really didn't want it, it was a favor to his daughter. Well, he was looking to get rid of it and offered Laura's dad a deal. I still don't know why he took it, though. In March Laura's mom had her last stroke and went into home hospice. Laura flew up to take care of her mother full time and while there she wound up using the jeep to get around in. When Laura came home 3 months later, her dad gave her the jeep. We've had to spend a couple of grand fixing it, as it turned out the radiator needed replacing and soon afterward the fuel injectors, one by one, started leaking and had to be replaced.

As you can see, I HATE a car payment. I've had pretty good luck with all of the cars we've had. Our insurance (until the kids started driving) was pretty low - older cars have lower rates and we only get liability insurance, the cars aren't worth full coverage insurance. I have to admit that the older I get, the less I like crawling under a car to fix it. We just might wind up with a new car when one of these cars gives up the ghost. My goal is to get my daughter out of college and the loans paid before signing on the bottom line.

We've owned 8 cars (I don't count - and didn't list - the two cars we bought for the kids) in 25 years. So maybe, not so many after all.

How many cars have you owned? Got any good car stories?

How can I have forgotten this?

I left out one vehicle:

1971 VW bus:

(see picture of VW bus above, it is virtually the same and the color is almost identical to mine)

In 1992-3 I was spazzing for another VW and I ran across a want-ad for a '71 bus (before the mid-year model change - which caused me fits getting parts). An army sergeant was PCS'ing (moving) and had to get rid of one his cars. His wife mandated it was going to be the bus. Laura and I drove over to look and - bought it. I drove it for 2-3 years and - as is typical in VW engines - blew the #3 piston (the oil cooler sits on top of that cylinder causes it to continually run hot). It sat parked in the driveway for about 9 months when a neighbor must have complained because the police came by and told me they were going to cite me for expired tag & insurance. I just did not have the time to fix it (I was constantly traveling for work) so I sold the van to a local guy who works on VWs.

I haven't had a VW since. I am thinking about getting another!

home again, home again, jiggety jig

Laura is back, exhausted! She traveled all day Saturday and slept half of Sunday. Yesterday her sinuses started a revolt, they apparently aren't pleased at their return to the land of pollen.

A few anecdotes from her trip:

They got locked in the Louvre. It was Friday and they were to leave on an afternoon train to return to England. Their only activity that day was their visit the Louvre. Having wandered through the museum for several hours time was drawing near for them to leave and they were making their way out. There were a few stragglers and they began to run behind schedule. Finally, everyone caught up and they were in the entrance area about to walk out the front doors when - the gates came down, locking them (and everyone else) in! No one could tell them why they were locked in nor when they would be able to leave. 30 tense minutes later they were released, facing a cross-city trip on the metro - in rush hour. They barely made their train.

They were touring London. They had just left the Tower of London and everyone was getting hungry. Laura was trying to convince them to cross the Tower Bridge, there were bound to be places to eat there. Nope. Everyone was dithering. Maybe they should go back to the tower grounds, there was a place there to get snacks. No one could make up their mind, no one would cross the bridge with Laura to look there, and after way to long Laura remembered a restaurant recommended by Antonia and she put her foot down - they were going to Chimes Restaurant. She wouldn't hear any more blather, she forced them to go. So after quite a trek (and a bazillion tube stops later) they finally arrive, tired and hungry. It was closed.

There were lots more stuff to happen, (apparently they severely flustered an english taxi driver (with an off-color joke) and several french youth almost lost their heads spinning 'round to see an ill-advised, form-fitting , cleavage displaying top Laura's sister wore to Versailles.) We are working on recording it in some form or fashion, pictures are forthcoming. While I didn't get the beefeater hat (nor a bearskin) I asked for, I did get a toby mug of a beefeater - so I guess I really did get my hat.

Meno had asked previously how I felt about being apart from Laura while traveling. I missed her terribly. Laura and I discussed this after she got home and we agreed that it is easier on the one traveling than the one staying home. The one traveling is outside of their normal environment, so the missing spouse - while not forgotten - is one more thing mixed in with the differences in the traveler's life. The spouse traveling is busy with whatever took them away from home, living in a temporary room, eating at restaurants, and either sightseeing if on vacation or working all day. I find if I'm the one gone I miss my wife mostly when I am eating (alone, usually) or going to bed (alone always!) . The spouse at home, however, is missing a large part of their daily existence. The traveling spouse is the only thing different, and so maybe the loneliness is magnified. While Laura was gone I found I thought of her more than usual during the day and the house seemed empty when I got home after work. Even though the kids were home ( my son works swings and is only home in the evenings for dinner or on the weekends, and while my daughter was usually there she was frequently in her room or gone to visit friends) it still felt wrong. This is our home, not just mine.

I am usually the one gone, but this isn't the first time Laura has been. Last year she spent 3 months in Missouri taking care of her mother. I had put that time behind me, but was reminded of how tough it was when Laura was in England. Maybe this time would've been a little easier if we hadn't spent that time apart last year. This trip has also made me much more sensitive to the effect my traveling has had on Laura. I went through a period from '96 through '98 where I was frequently gone two weeks, home two weeks, gone two weeks, etc. The kids were in grade school and one of them would usually sleep with Laura. I now understand why. It is hard getting into the bed alone that you share every night with your spouse.

I will soon be leaving for my own trips overseas, probably a month each. I have been eagerly anticipating going somewhere I've never been, experiencing cultures I've had little or no experience with. I am a bit less eager now, knowing what Laura will be feeling. I wish she could go, but I realize at a practical level that it wouldn't work. Being apart a day or two can be good, everyone needs a break every so often. You would think that the longer you are married, the older you get, the easier these separations get - and to a certain degree they are. But really, it doesn't get any easier to be apart from your life's partner.

confessions of a closet dramatist

They say that depression is suppressed anger. If that is true, then it is amazing I am still alive. 'Cause I do love to get angry. And I keep it deep inside. I don't mean that I harbor all of the ills done me (real or imagined) - although I can still remember the doozies - it's that I don't express my anger. Instead, when someone says something or something happens that makes me angry, I will later construct these huge arguments inside my head, building one statement on another, imagining the responses from the other party and then constructing counter arguments to those. This will go on for 5, 10, 15 minutes, or so, depending on what touched it off.

And it is stupid. I read something today that ended with a statement to the effect that (what was being written about) showed almost as much bad taste as eating at olive garden. I went nutso. I ranted in my head about how not everyone is lucky enough to have a restaurant nearby that can serve authentic italian dishes (not that olive garden doesn't - I haven't been to italy to know what authentic italian food tastes like), or that some people really like the food served by olive garden and whats wrong with that? I then broadened the argument in my head about big box, chain businesses that may be someone's only place to shop. I don't like what Walmart has done to the retail environment but there is NO OTHER PLACE TO SHOP for clothes or electronics in the little town I live in, and many other people live in similar places. And the nearest town that has alternative shopping is 20 miles away and who can afford to blow 10 bucks in gas in addition to paying higher prices just on principle when they are just barely making ends meet and anyway the shopping alternatives are other big box retailers anyway, who has locally produced goods of sufficient variety today that they can even have an alternative to the big box boys, I mean who has someone in their town that makes cd's or clothes or furniture and not all hand made furniture is of a quality to become antiques, some of it was crap and until ikea came along and offered decent - I mean it won't be antiques either but it'll stand up to wear for as long as I need it and is of a decent price, and, and, and

you get the idea. This kind of thing goes on in my head, and sometimes I restart the argument trying to come up with better arguments if my line of reasoning fails! WHAT is this vitriol doing to me? I don't share this with anyone (or rarely do) as I have a hard enough time making friends without subjecting them to this stuff. (and if only a hundredth of this makes it out of my mouth just think what those around me must endure!) So, all of this stuff turned inward, suppressed - is it any wonder I have a difficult time being happy? I don't know how to stop it. Some of the stupid stuff (like above) I get over pretty quickly - and if I ever speak about it, it turns into something like, well everyone is different and people make the best of their opportunities and so do I. But the crap I go through to come to that decision - argh.

I commented (kinda negatively) about teen-aged angst yesterday and the lack of maturity it shows, but am I any more mature for going through the same angst but keeping it inside? A lot of nice things were said about the lengths I went to so that Laura could go on this trip with her sisters, but inside OH GOD HOW I WISH IT WERE ME WITH HER and what if we never get to go together, yada yada yada - how mature is that?

So - how many of you are internal drama queens too? (how sexist is that of me? maybe I should say drama royalist - is that a good neutral term, would anyone get drama royalty without this diatribe, maybe I should delete this.......)

Jobs

The other day I ran across a blog where this guy described all of the jobs he had had in quite some detail - a post per job. While I certainly don't intend to bore all of you with that level of detail, I thought it might be interesting (at least for me - as a memory exercise if nothing else).

Here's a list of the things I did that might be considered jobs, but I either didn't have to apply for them or I didn't get paid for them:

worked at my granddaddy's store (free candy, cokes, and anything else I could sneak)
mowed lawns (just a few up & down our street)
babysitting (our next door neighbor's kids a few times, fell asleep listening to their partridge family records once)
worked at a fishcamp (peeled 50 lbs of shrimp and set up tables when some help didn't show once)
cleaned out boxcars (Mr. Y.T. would let me drive his truck (I was 10 or 11 at the time))
worked on my granddaddy's farm (breaking ground, plowing, harvesting, mowing, all things involving driving his tractor over endless rows of peanuts & corn)

This is a list of the jobs I had to actually apply for and earned a paycheck doing:

1. Worked in the fine arts department of the public library.
I was in high school and this was my first real job. It included checking materials in/out, reading the shelves (putting everything back in order), cleaning & inspecting films that had been returned, and a few other odds & ends. I worked every other weekend, Saturday & Sunday. One Saturday, the library was involved in bringing a group to town to perform at the local theater. I was to usher (hand out programs) and was emergency pressed into service on stage as a page-turner for the harpsichordist since I knew how to read music. This indirectly led to me loosing my virginity that night. In somewhat unrelated events, the fine arts director was later involved in a scandal which involved, among other things, him making anonymous harassing phone calls to the director of the library.

2. college tutor.
When I was a senior in high school I went to college in the mornings. One of the classes I took was a basic/fortran programming class. I did so well during the first half of the course, and there being a dearth of programming tutors, that I was hired by the college tutoring program to tutor. I don't think I did very well. I understood the subject but had an extremely difficult time explaining programming concepts to people who had never seen a computer, much less programming one.

3. Worked for a tree service.
The son of the lady my mom worked for ran his own tree service. It was a small operation, sometimes just him and me, no fancy vehicles (cherry-picker, stump-grinder, etc) just an ancient dump truck (that I drove) and his el comino that he used to haul equipment around in. This was a summer job between my freshman and sophomore years in college. He was a bit careless (he dropped a piece of trunk on an air conditioner once, and limbs on a few other things occasionally) and he and I parted ways the day he hit a jaywalker with his car (I was a passenger) and ran from the scene.

4a. Worked in the college dining hall.
I worked here for most of my freshman and sophomore years in college. If you need someone to cook spaghetti for 800 people, I'm your man. Start with 80 lbs of ground beef..... About twice a quarter I had to cook 400 steaks for the weekend crowd - and wrap 400 potatoes in tin foil to be baked. You start as a general gopher for the ladies that ran the dining hall, and this included cleaning dishes, and progressed upwards to cook and the epitome was backing the serving line. This involved managing the serving line, keeping it stocked with food and calling in orders for more food to be cooked depending on a good many variables - the goal being to serve the last serving of each dish to the last person to eat - which rarely happened.

4b. Farm laborer.
again for the college. It had an agricultural school with a dairy program and a lot of acreage mostly devoted to silage. I spent the summer between my sophmore and junior years at college working for the farm shop. A good bit of that summer involved stringing barbed wire fence. Other parts included cleaning out the dairy barn (oh. my. god. the. stench.) and any other little shit-job the full-time workers didn't want to do, so get a college part-timer to do it.

4c. physical plant laborer.
once again for the college. We were pretty much gophers for the guys who kept the facilities repaired. Replaced broken windows, fixed doors, fixed plumbing, fixed holes in the roof, trapped possums (I helped make the trap!). The BEST job was inspecting and refilling fire extinguishers. This job involved signing out a truck and driving all over campus, to each building, and checking each fire extinguisher was full, and replacing those that weren't. It was a given that the water extinguishers in the dorms would be empty (butt-slide contests were very popular). Water extinguishers were refilled by the college (2.5 gallons water, 100 psi compressed air). The chemical extinguishers were refilled by the fire department. I had this job for most of spring quarter. I also got to roam the normally off-limits girls dorms. primo job.

4d. butcher.
I spent one quarter cutting beef carcases. The college farm would have it's cattle slaughtered commercially but processed on-campus. It was primarily for the dining hall, but would sell quarters and halves to faculty & staff. I would occasionally sneak a couple of steaks for a weekend cookout, but by the end of the quarter I swore off beef for a month or so.

5. UPS driver-helper.
At this college we got a 6 week break between fall and winter quarters. UPS would come around recruiting for the busy Christmas season. The first year I applied I had long hair and a beard. I read through their appearance guidelines and told the guy I interviewed with I would shave and cut my hair if I got hired. I didn't get hired. The next year I had shorter hair and no beard. I got hired. I rode around with the driver making deliveries for the 4 weeks preceding Christmas. Those guys earn their money. The guy I worked with didn't eat lunch, preferring to work through it and finish early. HAH. We literally didn't stop from 9:00 AM until the truck was empty - and the last week I worked it was between 9:00 and 10:00 PM before the truck was empty. (he did have pity on me and let me get a coke and an candy bar if it looked like a long day.) In 3 1/2 weeks I made, after taxes, $1600. I didn't paid that well again until after I had been working in this job for a few years. I don't know if it is still true, but at that time UPS drivers were the best paid of all the teamsters. They earn it.

6. pizza and short-order cook.
When I transfered to large university, large city school, I got a job cooking pizzas at a local eatery. We made chicago-style deep-dish pizza. We also made sandwiches, spaghetti (not for 800) and lasagna. Next door was a bar & grill owned by the same people, so I would work there occasionally cooking bar food (burgers, nachos, fried mushrooms, sandwiches). The work was much more hectic, but when they closed the doors we would get a free beer while cleaning up. There was one manager I worked a lot for that would open the taps after we were all done closing. I spent many a late night/early morning getting either drunk or high at this place.

7. Assembly-line worker.
Just before joining the Air Force I worked for a temp manpower agency doing almost anything. after 3-4 jobs I got sent to a grill manufacturer who needed some seasonal labor and worked on a packing line. This job lasted a month and was THE. MOST. MONOTONOUS. JOB. I have ever had. Sometimes I would get a different position on the line, but the novelty went away after an hour or two. The better jobs were for permanent employees and were bid on. If I hadn't been waiting for my delayed enlistment into the AF to end I would've been hired full time. Not on your life. If you ever want to teach someone the value of a college degree, get them a job on an assembly line.

8. Cryptologic Linguist.
I blogged about this job here.

9. IT Project Manager.
This is the current iteration of the job I've held for the past 17 years. I began as a programmer-trainee and worked my way up. I've supported the same processes since I was hired, but on different computer systems, written in different languages. At first I supported hardware as well as software. When you support hardware, you learn to ask stupid questions. (the majority of the users I supported worked in the mills and were not used to computers of any kind.) Someone would call and tell me "my computer don't work". I would remotely log on to their system and everything would be fine. At first I was confused, but soon learned to ask a series of questions. "Is the screen dark?" I would ask. "Is the screen plugged into the computer?" I would ask. "Is the switch turned on?" I would ask. "Is the screen plugged into the wall?" I would ask. "Does anything else work when plugged into this outlet?" I would ask. Only then would I take them a new monitor. I learned the meaning of patience doing this.


The last two jobs were professional in nature and lasted 6 years and 17 years (so far) respectively. The other jobs lasted anywhere from a month to 2 years. With the dickey state of textile manufacturing in the US I don't know how much longer I will be here. If it will hold on another 18 months I might get a job bolting on bumpers at the car plant being built a few miles up the road. And probably make more money doing so.

Ye Olde Countrie

Laura is in a minor panic. She leaves Saturday morning for her trip. One minute, she's ready, the next, she'll never be ready on time. Par for the course. She has her wardrobe planned, but not packed. Shoes selected (comfortable for walking long distances, something nice for special occasions). Since she hasn't practiced using her new camera hardly at all, I will sneak the instruction manual into her suitcase. We ordered pounds and euros from our bank, I picked them up yesterday. With apologies to our cousins across the ocean, it looks like monopoly money. (it sure as hell costs more, though. The exchange rate is kicking our ass. Good ole' US dollar.)

Antonia (bless her pea-pickin' heart) has prepared a few sightseeing suggestions for Laura and her sisters and has posted it for everyone's edification. Laura is now officially excited. Outside of London, they are planning to go to Bath and, come hell or high water, Stonehenge. There is a 3 day trip to Paris which is to include Versailles, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and what ever else can be done in 3 days (which probably isn't much).

Laura is collecting addresses for postcards and requests for items to bring back. If she doesn't watch out, all she'll be doing while there is buying tourist trinkets and writing post cards. (although that does sound a lot like the family vacations I've been on in the past). She's asked me at least 5 times what I want her to bring me, so far all I can think of is a beefeater hat. I don't think it'll fit in her carry-on, though. So, I guess she'll have to just surprise me. Having her home safe, sound, and happy will be gift enough.

While there, Laura has promised to go to a pub and drink a beer - for me. She CAN'T STAND beer, but knowing my penchant for it she will have one and I will have to enjoy it vicariously. There is also the promise of having some "traditional" English food. Bubble & squeak, toad in the hole, fish & chips, bangers & mash. I don't know if (some of) these are really food eaten by the indigenous population or a practical joke on visiting Yanks. Food in France is a no-brainer. A chocolate croissant & cafe-au-lait for breakfast; a baguette, cheese and wine for lunch; and something fabulous for dinner. (Laura looked up horse in her phrase book, it wasn't even in there. She's a bit worried that their trying to hide something.)

So, she'll be gone two weeks and I will be......mowing the grass, feeding the cats, playing with the dog, trying to keep the plants alive until she gets back. Last year while Laura was in Kansas City nursing her mother most of her plants, well, didn't to so good. But this year I have the incentive of fresh tomato sandwiches, fresh sliced tomatos with mozzarella and basil and a touch of olive oil, fresh tomato in my salad, bruschetta, (sense a theme here?) so I will assiduously water and weed the garden, the first crop should be ready when Laura gets back. Kris is taking classes during the summer semester, but since classes are only two days a week she'll be living at home - so no bachelor parties for me. (right. these days I have one beer and I fall asleep watching TV.) Since Zack works swings, I never see him until the weekend anyway, and then he's usually going somewhere. I am working on relearning arabic anyway, that'll keep me out of trouble during the evenings.

So, keep your fingers crossed for safe, on-time flights, no missed connections, sunny MILD weather, no snooty french waiters, and a minimum of misunderstandings (have a fag? no thanks, I'm straight - and married).

Cheers & bon voyage.

anyone want to be me a while?

Sometimes I hate being a grown-up.

Which is weird because when I was a kid I couldn't wait to grow up. It constantly irked me that I had to get my parents' permission to do anything. Especially when I was a teenager in high school. Twice my parents called the cops to report me missing because I didn't come home when I was "supposed to". The first time was when we lived in Austin. I was 15 and in the 10th grade. Texas required driver's ed if you wanted to get your license before 18. I couldn't get into the school's driver's ed course so I took a commercial one. One day a week instead of riding the bus home, I took a city bus downtown for the class. I would take the city bus back to the high school and my parents would pick me up from there. This particular time the school orchestra had a concert on the same night as my driver's ed class. I didn't want to carry my uniform and instrument to school on the bus one of my parents (I can't remember which) gave me a ride to school. After school, as usual, I went downtown for my lesson and when I got back to the school afterwards I changed into my uniform and played in the concert. After the concert I called home to get a ride and my mom was almost hysterical. What class? What concert? All they knew was that I didn't come home from school - and they had called the police to report me missing. I swore to them that I just knew I had told them about the concert - hadn't they given me a ride to school that day with my instrument and uniform? Didn't they remember I always had my driver's ed class that day? But it was a good chance that I didn't. I had made my own plans and the situation was covered.

The second time they called the cops on me it was totally my fault. I was 17, we were now living in Georgia, and I was a senior in high school. I was playing in the college symphony and had been invited to a frat party by one of the college students in the symphony. I told my parents I was going to the party, they told me to be home by 11:00. I was having a good time and didn't want to leave the party, so I called around 11:00 and told them I gave them some excuse why I couldn't leave immediately, so my folks told me by home by midnight and no later. I wanted to stay and knew I couldn't get them to agree, so I didn't call home again. The party broke up around 4:00 AM, I went to Denny's for breakfast with some friends and toodled on home at 6:00AM. Mom read me the riot act. Dad was out looking for me. He called home after a little and Mom told him I was home. When he got home, I got the riot act again. I got grounded for 6 weeks.

I have always had a really strong independent streak. (read stubborn here and you won't be far off of the mark). I wanted to make my own decisions. So I grew up. I make my own decisions. Little did I know what those decisions were really going to be. When we first got married we weren't making a whole lot and sometimes the decisions were - which bill were we going to pay this month and which could be put off a month? The baby hasn't eaten for over a day. Is he sick? No fever, no other signs of being sick. What to do? Should we rent a house when we move, or look to buy? I hate paying rent but what if we buy and I loose my job? 30 years is a long time. My job sometimes requires me to travel at the drop of a hat. Who will keep the babies when Laura has to go to work? She'll lose her job if she can't go to work. I'll lose my job if I don't travel when needed. I can't afford a car payment, but if I buy a used car will it wind up breaking down a lot and costing as much or more? How do I find someone to take care of the cats while we are on vacation - not just anyone would volunteer to scoop litter boxes. Do I look for another job while I have one or do I stay here where I am sorely needed - but don't know if we will be in business next year?

All of those decisions (and thousands more) were made. That's life, huh? But my teen-aged self had no concept of the no-good-choice, make-the-least-bad-choice decision. And my teen-aged self really had no concept of the level of responsibility I would be taking on. Not that I shirked it - even then I always accepted and bore the brunt of the results of my decision-making. But I had no real concept of how my choices would effect the others in my life. That they too would have to pay the consequences for my choices. I've learned that lesson the hard way. In terms of the two police episodes up above, I now know, being a parent, how terrifying it can be not knowing where your child is, hoping they are okay. My parents had to endure the consequences of my selfish decision to party. I have had to pay those same consequences once or twice when raising our kids.

There are larger consequences to the decisions I make now. I read about the problems the world is facing and I wonder. In driving my 20 year old car, am I damaging the environment by polluting and consuming more fossil fuels or saving resources by keeping the car out of a landfill? I don't volunteer a lot, so am I part of the problem because I'm not part of the solution? I donate what I can afford to local charities, but is that a suitable substitution for not being there? I give someone on the street a few bucks, will that money be used to buy crack or a sandwich? Am I a bad neighbor because I don't pick up that hitchhiker due to being afraid of being robbed or attacked, but I remember my car breaking down in the middle of nowhere and wishing someone would give me a ride. Which candidate do I vote for? Was this shirt I want made in a sweatshop? On and on and on.

In general, I accept that as an adult the decisions I make are made as well as I can make them. I can only do so much, the woes of the world are not my sole responsibility. But when it comes down to it, though, I sweat each one of them. I worry if I did the right thing. Every time.

Sometimes I hate being a grown-up.

Friday Miscellany

There is finally a tentative schedule for the system installation in Bahrain. Nothing is written in stone yet, but it looks like I will be leaving the last week in May and staying a month. I've been reading up on visa requirements and getting an international driver's license. The Department of State has the standard warnings for any middle eastern country, but nothing specific or current for Bahrain. I'm also trying to find out what is just across the causeway in Saudi Arabia that would be worth seeing. I'll probably try to cross the border just to say I was there. Insha' Allah. I've got my old vocabulary flash cards out and a few of my old text books and have started trying to relearn enough arabic to get by. I am also listening to the BBC news broadcasts in arabic while at work, thinking maybe that if I hear it enough some long-dormant brain cells will wake up and I will recover some of my old linguistic ability.

If this schedule holds I will be leaving the week after Laura gets back from her trip to England & France. At first I was going to be leaving while she was gone, but things so far have worked out so that I don't. Two weeks and counting before she leaves. She's getting nervous - and excited - about her trip. All of her preparations are complete, except for buying some euro's & pounds from our bank. They are looking for a place to have a high tea, but from the prices it maybe won't be so high. She doesn't like beer but promises to go to a pub for a meal and a pint just for me. I tell her she should try some scrumpie but hasn't been convinced. Neither is she up for toad in the hole, but might go for some bangers & mash or maybe some bubble & squeak. If anyone has any don't-miss destination suggestions, now is the time to suggest.

Now if she can convince her sister (who is a nurse and has an untethered imagination) that she won't die of an altitude-induced blood clot during the flight(s) or get mad cow disease from eating british beef, yada, yada, yada, they should have a good time.

I wish I could go with her.

Meanwhile, Kris' spring semester finals are on the same day that Laura leaves for England - May 5th. She only has 2 to take, and they are one immediately after the other on the same day. She then gets a week or two off and then she starts the summer semester. She's doing really well. The state of Georgia has a lottery-funded scholarship program that pays for tuition & fees for students who maintain a B average - which she has. I'm really proud of her.

Zack has settled in where he works. He is making friends there (which is difficult for him) and seems to enjoy his work. He works swing shift and that fits right into his normal wake/sleep schedule. That also means that during the week we only see him if he comes home for supper. During the weekend he's usually out doing something. Last weekend he used his tax return to by a new computer. Sometime or another, when I can get around to it, he's hinted at me maybe running a network cable to his room - but no hurry, after all he still has his laptop with a wireless card so he can still get to the internet. He won't outright ask for anything, he always comes at it sideways. Usually I hear about his wants through Kris (via Laura) way before he starts dropping hints to me. Dads are always the last to know.

Truthiness

I left a comment over at De's recently wherein I said the following "Blogging has given me a way to reach out in a controlled way - I get to decide how much of me everyone sees....". This was said within the context of De describing how little she sees of her neighbors and how little she feels a part of the neighborhood. What I meant to say was that I was much like her in that I see little of my neighbors and that blogging has given me a way to reach out and create a community that I feel I can belong to. But I do believe Freud intervened and I have inadvertently stated a truth.

The challenge for me in blogging is, much as it is in real life, to be completely candid in what I write here as well as what I comment elsewhere. None of you know me in "the real world" and can't call me on any untruth I might tell. It would be easy to write about myself as I wish I were instead of how I really am. But I don't. At least, I don't here any more than I do when talking about myself anywhere else. Much is said about the anonymity of the internet and the license it carries to do and say anything. But I don't exercise that license. Bob is my real name (nickname), but I haven't shared my full name here nor the specifics about where I live and where I work. I worry a bit about something I write here coming back to haunt me, but I don't know what. I'll never be popular enough for groupies nor controversial enough for someone to seek me out but there is this niggling worry I haven't yet got rid of. All of that being said, I really try to tell the truth about myself and what I think about any given topic.

But I haven't discussed several things here that I might have. There is a line that I have yet to cross. I'm not sure where the line even is, but I am aware of the reluctance in me to discuss certain things. Sex or politics, for instance, are topics that I don't see being discussed in the blogs that I read that in turn read here - so I don't blog about them. It isn't that I don't have views or opinions about these topics (ask Laura, she'll tell you in a hearbeat that I have an opinion about everything!) but I guess the absence of posts about them in the blogs I regularly read leads me to believe that they aren't topics for discussion here.

Don't get me wrong, there is little I won't talk about if asked. But much of the decision to talk about something depends on who is asking or who the audience is. I don't see the anonymity of the internet as freeing. I tend to base my decision on whether to post or comment about something as if I were talking to someone.

Do you have topics that you consider off-limits? Why?

*** This post was really published Thursday, 12 April - not Monday as stated above. I began it then and forgot that blogger hangs onto the original date unless you tell it otherwise - and I forgot to tel it otherwise. I only mention this because I am frequently disconcerted when seeing a new post at a blog I visit daily and it is dated 3 days ago!***

5 Questions

I threw my hat in the ring for the 5 questions meme, and I got mine from Chani.

1. If you controlled the flow of time, what would you change?

Jeez, we only have @10,000 years of recorded history! I can't decide, so I get two answers! In terms of world history, I would probably stop Archduke Franz Ferdinand from being assassinated. Europe, the middle east and various and sundry bits of the world were literally remapped after world war I in a way that, I believe, directly or indirectly has led to the majority of the conflict (and suffering) in Europe and the middle east since then.

In my life, I would not change anything. There are many things I wish I had done differently, but each was a learning experience. Primarily, though, my wife and children are the most important things in the world to me and I wouldn't change the path of my life that led me to them.

2. If it's true that our choices are a result of beliefs and desires, but desires and beliefs are based on what we are taught, are our choices really free?

Yes, in the large sense. Beliefs are shaped not only by what we are taught, but also upon our interpretation of that teaching. Every person experiences the world in a unique way. What we are taught, interpreted through the lens of personal experience, that makes each person's beliefs unique and therefore allows for free choice.

I don't know that I can accept that desires are based on what we are taught. (they can influenced surely, but based upon?). I don't think it is nearly as straightforward and that this is a question of nature vs. nurture.

3. Does the end justify the means?

No. We should be held accountable for how we live our lives, not by what we achieve.

4. If we are all "special", how does that make any individual special?

We are all "special" in the sense that we are individuals each with our own strengths - and weaknesses. That doesn't preclude that there are those people that have characteristics or abilities that are developed far beyond those around them. Not everyone can be a Mahatma Gandhi, or Albert Einstein, or Rosa Parks, or Benjamin Franklin, or Martin Luther.

If we would teach our children to accept themselves for who they are then we wouldn't have to have these interminable ceremonies where every child gets some kind of award or certificate for fear of them feeling inadequate or left out.

5. For the final irritating question, what would you choose as a universal priority?

That every person on this planet have the opportunity to be the best they can be.

Now - let the discussion begin!