Thursday feeling like Friday...

I am plumb wore out, or just getting old. Rode the Trusty Triumph home from work, about a quarter mile behind the young lady on the Sportster - tried to catch up, but so many autos in the way and she does ride fearlessly, I was close once. I had dinner and looked at the news, then the blogs I follow - Americans are in two or more different societies... and I am just watching mostly. I catch that someone out there is celebrating nine years of marriage and bliss - both at the same time, according to some experts that is rare - but then good things always are rare, and precious.

I was asked if I would help, and I smiled, and I helped. I could have made the bed alone, my wife could have made the bed alone - she stripped it this morning, washed everything, came home and dried it all, and then we were making the bed. I don't always do it exactly to her standards and she will come over and tighten up the corner and slap down and flatten a wrinkle that I may have left, but we did it together without much talking - we do this kind of thing often, we repeat the successful patterns that get the bed made, the food purchased and prepared, the dishes cleaned up, the cars tuned or the garden watered. We trust that each will pull their share and do their best - don't have to talk much about any of it - normally a glance or a nudge and it is an entire conversation.

My father is gone, long gone now, and the first indication that my mother's life was alone was when she declared that she hadn't realized how much he had done around their life, until he wasn't there to do it. There are times I feel alone, but I know that she is coming back or I am going home and it will be better -- alone in the midst of many, all strangers that don't love me enough for me to trust and share, not a good place to spend too much time. I like being loved but being a very cautious, shy (?), quiet man I probably miss many signals and there are rules, so I am blest that I am loved - and I know it; good marriage is like that.

Just busy as a dead honey bee...

I did take out the .22 rifles today and fired a couple of dry rounds, sitting position, have to get some good sling instructions for the target rifle. Postal match from SailorCurt to shoot early Saturday and email results to him quickly. Deadline is midnight in another time zone or so. Still, it is time for rifle shooting. After all, Kim du Toit has announced his blog will end in December and other riflemen will have to stand watch.

Fourteen and a half minutes to go...

Well, The News Tribune article about the Library I keep open showed up this morning. I am not a real librarian (MLS) to those that know, but am to those that want one and only get me. Nice picture, Mister Lui Kit Wong, you are even better than I anticipated - made me wish I was that nice looking guy in the picture. Brian Everstine hit the right note, and wasn't jarring in his report, you the readers may make up your mind about what could be done. My sister asked if I thought it would get more money from the legislature and I had to say no. There isn't more money, and the priority will go to more police and laws, I will keep working on one better reader at a time...

Since my last blog about reporting on me and my work will disappear when this gets posted I will note it again, since their site has been updated. From my telephone interview with Ms. Mudd -- a PDF file of an article in the OCLC "Western Trek" magazine. I mentioned being interviewed and page eight and nine are the result. One nice lady at church this morning actually wanted me to sign my picture, I got a good laugh out of that, only fourteen and a half minutes of fame to go, best get back to work on it.

Carrying a weapon today, and why not? I did...

I see that why one carries a weapon is a current topic, and Concealed Carry Permits are trigger words - cute, huh? So since I was carrying a weapon today, with nary a thought about shooting someone - why did I do it?

Well, I am well trained in weapons, to the degree that once men of judgment appointed me the EXPERT on combat pistols, and rifles. So I would organize my classes, conduct practices, and qualification runs until all the soldiers were qualified. I haven't written a book nor run competition ranges, but I have trained soldiers for combat and that is enough.

Since I had the power of weapons in my hands I had to come to a philosophy that met the requirements of when to use the weapons and why it would be the right thing to do. I have that philosophy, and I know when I will use the weapons and take life. But my thoughts aren't public, and I think it is much too serious, taking life, to throw out for others to chew upon and judge me and my actions in situations still to come. I won't allow you to judge me on my actions in the past that you don't know about - you will have to trust me, as I do you.

I have said in the past that I didn't want to carry a weapon that I wasn't going to use - because it is heavy and a bit of a bother. Restrictions of carry being the most annoying, most of my life being trusted and unrestricted with weapons and ammunition I find the Gun Free Zones stupid and unbearable - why do I suffer fools in positions of power? Because I don't pay much attention to fools and don't live my life by their stupidity.

Recently I have begun to carry a weapon for the belief that I should as a responsible adult. I should love my fellow man, should help render aid to the hurt and unfortunate, that I should support good government, that I should smile and be polite. Yes, as a responsible adult I should be a good citizen and I should be prepared to do what I can to help in all emergency situations and to promote good citizenship in our youth and make the world a better place to live and love.

You should carry a weapon, you should know how to render first aid, you should know how to fill sand bags, you should be willing to step up and bring peaceful resolution to stupid confrontations, you should be polite and make the day brighter for us all. I trust you will prepare for the worst and bring about the best, really I do trust you, you are a responsible adult aren't you?

workday, how it goes and now you know...

I have an eleven and a half hour break from home, for travel to work, work and back, five days per week. Monday and Tuesday start at 9:30 AM and Wednesday through Friday start at 6:00 AM. So I raise the garage door and wheel the Trusty Triumph out, turn fuel valve, pull choke (not really) hit switch, and go back to pack lunch into backpack and put on helmet and goggles, grab gloves and lock down garage door and get on motorcycle. Take a breath, pull on gloves, zipper jacket, look at the Sunrise, push in choke (not really), hands on grips, pull in clutch lever, push down into first gear, look around one more time and roll down the drive engaging clutch friction zone, roll on the throttle and away...

It is a thirty minute ride, with all the traffic lights and stuff to slow me down, Lakewood police and photo speed traps. But it is a great day and I am mellow, alert and having lots of fun on the ride. I do notice with the sunny day and it being Friday that the roads are rather empty - did I miss the notification of a holiday? Is everyone calling in sick? I am so on top of it rolling into the parking lot and shutting down. I lock up, pack the helmet and goggles in the backpack and put on the baseball cap and start walking down to the dock. Thirty to thirty-five minutes, walking by the new construction on the High School and down the hill through the woods. It always reminds me of Pennsylvanian forest, oaks and maples with broad branches and leaves shading the roadway. Since I go so slow I approach a doe with her fawn, preparing to cross the road, lean and delicate she eyes me and twitches her ears in my direction, safe she walks across the road with the fawn in trail position, stopping as the fawn enters the wood to eyeball me and twitch the ears, making sure I am not following. Nature is to be part of, not just read about. Now if human females paid that much attention to me I would be in trouble, all the time.

I talk to one of the counselors about the article about the library - everyone with a computer and time on McNeil Island got a chance to read about it, some write and this man talks with me about it. He rides a Harley with all the trimmings when he feels Harley-like, only the best of days, with leathers, chaps, and boots. We load on to the ferry for the ride to McNeil Island. Loading takes twenty minutes, the ride takes twenty minutes - I could nap or read, so I read about shooting my rifle better "The Hunter's Guide to Accurate Shooting: How to Hit what you are aiming at in any Situation" by Wayne Van Zwoll. Foot race off the boat onto the floating dock (tide is twelve and more feet) and on to the prison. Pick up distribution and open the library, turn on the computers, switch back up tape and take my gear off and put the radio with fresh battery on my belt.

The first three hours are doing Overdue notices, answering email and checking in books from the book drop, then shelving and shelf reading, I get permission to add twenty-seven donated books to the collection and I download their MARC records, write the call number up for the clerks to make and give them the books to prepare for circulation, I will get them one more time to link them and check the processing. One of my workers has a visit, every two weeks if he is lucky, so he leaves after an hour. We do a hot trash run, recycle and trash with rag bag exchange - which means we get outside into the Industry compound and say hello to all our patrons at their jobs - and they do want noticed and appreciated. I have prepared the outgoing mail so while the clerks are back at their units until called for lunch I take the mail and overdue slips and pickup notices to the communications boxes and the mailroom. One bin for one bin, daily news papers, three magazines (two of them in Spanish) and eight interlibrary loan (ILL) items, a very light mail day.

I stop for my lunch; a pickle, sandwich and two red apples. I get two workers back after lunch and that looks like the crew, so shelving has effectively stopped. We take in, check out and find desired items. I register some new patrons and answer more email, and find I have two book carts approved for purchase - only sixty-six items and sixty dollars under budget - I will look at something to fill that gap. The missing worker shows up two hours after lunch, he fell asleep - it is Friday and I expect everyone that works will want to sleep early and long on Friday - it doesn't happen that way, but seems like it should. So the shelving starts again in the last hour, the new books are almost ready for linking (I will wait until Monday). We sent five CDs off to Acquisitions for processing, they were donated by inmates - so they could buy others, they are only allowed to own fifteen, I believe. I close up and put in the mail bins all the returned ILL materials from the afternoon, first out going mail is Monday at 11:30.

Book talk today covered: "The Last Lecture" purchased and read recently by myself and my worker with the visitor, he wondered that the author hadn't died -- I would find out later that today he did. Another worker has been convinced to read "Dune" and he doesn't do much fiction and science fiction isn't his genre - but he will do well with that one. He turned one of his buddies on to "Forever War" which he had recently finished, and I told him to try "First Blood" and forget Rambo the movie and put yourself in post Vietnam America. Being tough guys, the three of us have done all of Cormac McCarthy's recent works. Patrons want me to buy all the J.A Jance and Evanovich that I can get. One patron that is always on me about buying more James Patterson was worried about my long bushy eyebrows and I told him he would be talked about if he kept looking at me that closely. It doesn't grow on top like it once did, eyebrows might be all I get soon, look what they do for Andy Rooney. I am wading carefully in the book "A History of the American People" by Paul Johnson -- recommended by Jerry Pournelle, who is fighting his own battle with cancers, growths and age. I don't need more History, just a fresher look at it from this Englishman's perspective.

Recall is sounded, the library empties and the crew cleans off the tables, re-sets the chairs in place and says good-bye promising to show up in a couple of weeks. I turn all the computers off, one last check of email, put the radio and keys away, sign the tool inventory form and shut off the lights. Another week bites the dust. It is almost four and I have an hour and a half left before I ride up on the sidewalk at my home.

The afternoon is beautiful, the ferry ride isn't packed - some people must have left early and I talk with the tool sergeant about whatevers, and read more about that sight picture when shooting. We get on the first bus out, I get on my motorcycle and the day is perfect except for all the caged drivers hogging the road, sigh - the oil industry will have another great quarter of profits. At the same place I met her yesterday is the young woman on her Sportster. She has a blue shirt today, it was purple yesterday and this time she is a couple of cars behind me. Since this is the same time and place as yesterday, we are now in a relationship. I didn't like her getting ahead of me by taking the road she did, cutting four stop lights out of her ride - so today I take her turn first and she follows me - she rides fearlessly but not foolishly, and we are almost paired riding to and down Pacific, we go into the turn onto military road in fine form and on to where we will each leave the road - each to our own lives - just a short casual relationship, but she rides well and that is a good thing. It is almost five - thirty.

Home, dinner with my wife, Korean zuccinni pancakes, with seasame seed soy sauce and Smackdown awaits - but I will fall asleep somewhere during commercial breaks.

Freedom means being unchained and loose...

I have no danger from excessive cellphone use and possible brain cancer - I don't own nor use cell phones, I think they are tethering. "Where are you now, darling?" and it isn't just your wife that can find you but the wonderful benevolent government can, too. Which is a positive thing in mountain rescue (providing there is a radio tower relay close by) but for your normal marijuana and guns run into the county it could be embarassing. Anyway, they can't find me that way, until they plant one under the chin line or back of my ears.

No, my concern is with my computer or the television soaking up my time, they do it so well. I should be stronger than that temptation to read what Tam wrote... she hasn't even posted since I last checked at 23:15 PDT, it is now 04:28, nope. There she is! posted at 7:32 her time, whew! I almost missed that. And no telling what Jenny Hogan has to say about the commute to Seattle (always about how long it will take to get to Seattle - no one ever does anything but drive through or by Tacoma). So, as I try to catch up with LtG, now CPTG and the destruction of his blog and my link to his adventures for Freedom, the clock has slid on to 5:01 and more of my day is gone.

I have stopped looking at video, and I can empty two mugs of coffee in the load times between blogs, then I have to read and likely leave a message of boring tempo, like I was important enough to have an opinion. Of course I have an opinion, if I can tear myself away from reading the next post by SailorCurt or all the others in my blog list. Yep it is 5:15 and time to find some food, figure out the weather and news and then dress and depart on the motorcycle for work at McNeil Island. Until I get back and link up again... and burn up my time, ruin my eyes and keep becoming a puddle of soggy fat flesh because I don't exercise while stand at the computer... choices, I should make better choices and start living off the net, remember when you could? No, well let me show you a picture of when there was only one television in the home, and after Howdy Doody and Mickey Mouse there wasn't anything to watch so I went outside.... where I should be soon as I check to see if Breda posted something yet.

Bye!

Good enough or do you really need more?

There is a lot of stuff in my life, sixty years worth and adding to that every day. Looking at some blogs I notice that one gun is better than another - or so some would say. I like my two forty-fives and if I am serious about shooting I will drag them out and wear them. I didn't feel they were concealed carry so I went looking for smaller and still troublesome to those on the other side of my pistol. Got me a 9mm, and it almost disappears - with a pocket protector with pens no one notices. Just have to watch the happy huggers. But I was reading about my pistol on blogs and I got all kinds of comment - good and bad.

So I take it to the range and shoot, and don't find any of the problems mentioned. It is double action, and I take up the trigger and look at the target and hit the target when it fires, just like I was supposed to... out of the box, into my hands with full metal jacket. It does everything I ask, if I care for it properly it should for a long time. That takes care of carrying, then the only question - as in all heroic things - is opportunity and stepping up when it knocks.

Lately I get an urge to have a military rifle (who me?) I like the M-14 (with a 10 round magazine), can use an M-16, and love the looks and feel of the M-1 Garand, and a Springfield '03 would fit me - I just know it. So I start to look and hunger and want to buy... but wait, I have two 30-30 lever actions, and a Model 70 in 30-06. What is the reason I was hungering for a military rifle? Because I could - there is no need in my life for one, I could be pleased just firing one once in awhile but don't even have to do that. Okay, maybe I NEED to have a semi automatic rifle, but you are going to have to sell me that real hard. I know how to use a machine gun and automatic fire in combat, defense or offense, but I don't need a BAR or any of the machine guns. Not until the war starts and I figure I will get all the bullet launchers and ammunition I need, because I will be more willing to step up than many... So I will fire my rifles like I fire my pistols - with love, care and affection. And they are all straight out of the box, and they all shoot straighter than I can aim them - but I don't need Olympic precision, I only need combat effective and until the lights go out, I will always have that... or so I seriously believe.

11,111.1 miles on my motorcycle, all mine, all good

Nice to watch special numbers roll over on the odometer, and considering that it was the third time my wife graced my machine and self with her presence it was really special. Since I mounted the sissy bar I had been hinting that now the weather was nice it was time she took a spin with me. So after church and lunch she got dressed in denim with her H-D boots and motorcycle gloves, found a long strap leather purse for the essentials and used the full face helmet.

So the pressure is now on me not to drop us into the road, what me worry? better believe it. I was almost certain I was hitting the wrong brake going down the drive but changed to clutch and rolling on the throttle - which makes a better start than turning into the dirt. Shift gears slowly and smoothly - she listens to all clunks and thumps and thuds with mystical intensity. Stopping is the same, the turn after stop is heavier to roll into, but I will get comfortable with it, lots of turns on this trip. She grabs my Levi jacket about where my latissimus dorsi are, and I tell her she should sew handles on there for future rides - she doesn't let go. Maybe a rock climbers harness is what I need so she can have better gripping points. She starts leaning into me when she thinks we are going to go into and through a turn, since I am not wiggling the bike under me, like I would when I ride alone, the ride is stable and not very dangerous.

At full stops at light and stop signs we talk a little, if we were to do more riding together a radio headset for each rider would be best, but then we would have to have a conversation, hmm... We try all the roads and all the speeds except the highway I-5, some things shouldn't be shared - my fear of fool drivers on the expressway is one of them. It was a beautiful day, the Air Force is doing their final day of thundering jets and Thunderbird performance, picnicking in the park we ride through and lots of other riders to wave at - one has to be noticed, even waving at our neighbors as we come home, smiling safely, braking smoothly and dropping my wife off before I park the motorcycle. I get so many great days in my life, hope I haven't run out of them, they do seem to get better and better.

But you didn't turn me on...

So you don't have to return the favor, love that lady in the red CTS. But I was working on self control, trying to get self back in myself. So with the computer down, the television off and no one calling me I did more than recent normal, break fast with my wife, head for the YMCA for more work on self, I watch a TurboJam commercial while I work out wickedly. Back home to stuff to do for us....

I am sharpening the lawn mower blade, with a file, like bayonets and axes, sharpen with file - yes, you could use a grind stone, a wet one and slow but there is art and art has heart and hand sharpening with a file brings back memories. Sharpening my swords before Hastings, or was it my ax, or spear? Riding a horse meant you could carry more weapons in case of loss or breakage, walking means you have to carry the extra weight and get moving somehow and hope it doesn't get in your way. Kind of like all the body armor and three types of killing ammunition and grenades and water and digital I-pod/camera/cell phone of the modern warrior in Afghanistan or Iraq.

I get called to lunch, ramyon with shimp and mon-du, the bright-eyed lady I came to the dance with across from me eating rice and kim chee. I have the Bluegrass playing and she starts mimicking the sound of the sad violins and voices, she catches the tones perfectly. I finish put the stuff away and change the cable to Korean music, telling her that I will start singing along one day. Outside the sound of jets, from the Air Base - the Air Force is on display, everything they tell us they fly is on the flight line or in the air today, the stuff they don't tell us about we will never have to give up to our enemies. The Thunderbirds are on at three, the highways all around are packed with slow moving cars trying to get somewhere. I still have to do the grass mowing and area beautification.

I know what Heaven is like, or at least my piece of Paradise.

Swelled head, helmet almost doesn't fit...

Work went well today, tomorrow I should be caught up. In the Email was a note with a PDF file of an article in the OCLC "Western Trek" magazine. I mentioned being interviewed over the telephone before. The article was the result, and since my Program Manager was needing some notice and support for her budget proposals she sent the word to the world of the Office of the Secretary of State for Washington State. Lots of positive feedback from Department of Corrections and from the State Library, and the Secretary of State Sam Reed himself. This seems to be the kind of stuff that makes Legislatures take notice and approve funds.

I also find my name on the WALE Conference Program - the 3rd session period - right after lunch and right into a nap, oh, I have to present don't I? Well, it isn't until the 3rd of October, 2008. My mother will be proud of me, now all I have to do is make my rough draft captivating! I do work in a prison don't I?

When there isn't anything to do about it...

I have been busy trying to keep up with work, reports and draft programs - and maintain a position of being in charge of my life at the same time. Good news, the homes on both sides of mine have been sold and they will be moving in before August arrives, my wife tells me we will have to start watering the grass. I have been being tugged into temptations of buying a military rifle, but I don't go running down to the local gun shops to shop, didn't I tell you that I have been busy? I have been, while resisting the urge to go buy, thinking of getting the rifles out and shooting them instead of the pistols. So I re-read Jeff Cooper and prepare to read Wayne Van Zwoll for more guidance. But in the end Bill Mauger will be the one talking me through each shot, like we were again in the high school gym firing target rifles, with slings and shooting jackets at target too tiny to tell. One shot at a time. Back when one could get an education, a broad education, in school.

I am so easy to impress...

So I go see Kung Fu Panda with my wife and enjoy it. The animation is great, story is fine, and no sex or violence - oops, there was violence but only in the best cartoon manner. What struck me as more important were the Asian artistic moments - real art that splashed on the screen and into my mind as the story rolled by. Movie in between was Indiana Jones and I have no comment except I am getting as old as Harrison Ford and I don't do fool things like I once did when I was Hans Solo's age. Yesterday on a whim and Senior Discount Priced tickets, (I was carded for proof I was so old!) we went to see WALL-E and had a great time finding true love among the mechanical. Again the animation great, no sex nor violence (well, he is a trash compacter extraordinaire and SHE is a GUNNY! with a quick draw solution to threats). Hand holding is key, reach out and touch someone.

I am starting to look like the people on the AXIOM, best go and get physical and sweat some away.

Lady on the range...

I intended to shoot pistols today, intended to include my wife and so we headed off to Range 15 on Fort Lewis. Lots of bicyclists to pass with safety, 9500 plus riders going from Seattle to Portland (STP). But they are going to be badly sunburned if they don't watch it - pure blue sky and only the Sun hanging over head. Into Fort Lewis and we find the Range full and not enough targets left for two shooters, but I pay the man anyway and pick up the first target until someone turns one in.

Now in the famous Nanny state where all pistols are locked away (my home almost always), no one can get to their pistol quick enough to save their butts. Rule in my home, is abandon the house, call 911 and hope someone answers their phone. Since I have knives ready all over the place I never worry too much about firearms for shooting through doors, walls and into the neighbors' homes. But don't you know, smart fellow that I pretend to be, I didn't bring my set of keys for the pistols and find I can only shoot the pistols protected by a combination lock, the 9mm will remain unfired today, sigh. Why is it that I lock my pistols up? Oh, because someone said I would be safer that way. Okay, keys to all locks next time.

We get a second target and I set up one table for the .22 and one for the .45, and then I switch as I find the hot cases flying our way from the shooters next door. I am less distracted by flying objects and things striking me suddenly (old and slow, no reaction time for jerks and flinches). My wife fires her first seven rounds and the paper target is untouched, although I think I see new small holes above the target in the neck area (military cardboard silhouettes). So I tell her how the sights should be lined up, how the sights should center on the black bulls eye, and reload her for another seven and coach her through each round - she hits black three time and the white beside it four more. She is starting to group, which means to me success. I fire ten .45 left handed, all my shooting will be left handed today - Murphy practice. All bullets in the black upper right quadrant - have to work a bit on trigger and point of aim, or not. Cycle over, we go down and discuss the target, mark the shots and return to pick up brass until we go hot again.

So slowly we work on unloading, reloading, target engagement and trigger control. She is continues to improve until fatigue sets in and that is okay. It has been a successful shooting day. 3 x's, 2 -10, 3 -9, 6 -8, 5 -7 ring, she fires another fifteen and I finish the box off to prove I still can - after the .45 it feels so light and free to fire the Ruger. My target for the .45 is boring, since all save one flyer (don't ask me why, I was using only one hand and getting shaky?) are in the black and on the right half of the bulls eye, I only fired forty rounds but still happy except for the seven yard target engagement, normally I like to do twenty but it wasn't all about me today, so seven is fine. Home to boiled chicken, flavored with garlic, ginger and ginkgo seeds, falling off the bone so good.

Cleaning up, the Procrastination pile...

I had about three months of Lotto tickets to check for winners. I have been buying tickets since 1994 and our arrival in Washington State. One ticket for Lotto and one for Quinto, twice a week. Yes, I do know that state sponsored gambling is the best form of taxation on the poor, it is always a punishment for the mathematically challenged, and it takes no skill to become a fool separated from his money on the false hope of untold riches, yes I do know. And I play anyway, seven cents on the dollar go to the store the machine is at, thirty-five cents goes to the State of Washington - and forget any promises that it was going to schools, education, school construction or other worthy programs a voter could get excited about - it will be in the General Fund and used anyway the current political leadership think it should be (because it was too much for the education system to absorb?)

They decided they needed more money - so they went with adding Mega Millions for a bigger prize in a combination of states, and they added one more daily drawing for Lotto and Hit 5 (which replaced Quinto since it sounded Mexican). Once I had them emailing me the winning numbers, so I could check immediately but that was in the days I was counting all my pennies and rolling them and adding them to the son's credit union account - the pennies and other coins from my jogs that I picked up. I don't count all the coins, not like the obsessed fool I was once, but I do still pick them up and roll them and put them in my credit union account. Another change is that I don't buy every ticket for every drawing, I just don't believe I will ever get the big one - it could happen but I don't have faith in the government's ability to randomly crown me King for a Day, or until they get their tax money and I squander the remainder. I just buy a ticket so I feel a part of the foolishness.

Anyway I am checking winners and putting the losers in the tax folder for off setting my big taxable winnings - if I ever win it. I end up with fifteen dollars won, and won't tell you how many losing tickets I put away except there were more than fifteen, by more than thrice. Since I am now aware of my failure to win at this benevolent government's game, I give the winning tickets to my wife for cashing in, that will put a smile on her face (even if I don't see it I will be happy in the knowledge). She will try to give me the money, I will tell her to keep it and take the two tickets she bought for the next drawing. We share well, even if money isn't the same for us in our minds or life.

Being semi-retired but working full time I can afford the foolish buying of Lotto tickets, but I wonder as I see people putting ten and more dollars into it and then decide it isn't my business and I should wish them well in all they do. For any that care, Mom, I still give more to the church in a month than I put in the Lotto tickets for the year, and I continue to fund my wife's IRAs and our lavish life style (okay, it isn't lavish but it is comfortable enough for our wants).

Friday, finally and Heller is sinking in everywhere...

This morning I was the first to comment on Kim Du Toit's blog about:

Obama Quote Of The Day II

Kim du Toit
July 11, 2008
7:44 AM CDT

What a beauty:

“We cannot continue to rely only on our military in order to achieve the national security objectives that we’ve set. We’ve got to have a civilian national security force that’s just as powerful, just as strong, just as well-funded.” Read it all

Well, reading that statement “Civilian Security Force” as meaning an armed citizen mobilized with good intentions.... the 2nd Amendment lives! Now can I have my BAR? Please.

AbnNCO | 7/11/2008 07:48 AM CDT | my words in comment.

Then I went to see Breda and she sent me off to visit Mike-istan after reading his blog I was going great GUNS! Made me want to run out and get that battle rifle and stock up on ammunition as my son advised. But I went to work and then helped with the Vacation Bible School a bit, and thought about how nice the motorcycle riding is right now. But I will go to the range tomorrow and fire some well placed rounds with my left hand (I have been ignoring my good advice about Murphy getting to pick his time to ruin your day).

By the way, any civilian force with any government control (especially from the FEDERAL level) is para-military and I am not joining - I am too old and independent, and y'all should be, too. We don't need control, we have done fine without it. I would allow the government to give me a thousand rounds of military ammunition for MY BATTLE RIFLE, that they would want me to fire up in ten opportunities a year (no two times in the same month). And they can provide the range for 50 to 600 meters with targets. Haven't I really flown off into Neverneverland? Dinner calls, and I will think on how lucky I am that I don't live in England, Australia or China.

ABC of me, thanks to Breda,

I know there isn't anything of interest in me worth writing but since my choice was about the Lotto tickets or filling in my blanks for the world, the small part visiting I thought I would follow Breda, fine pistoleeress that she is (why yes I made that word up, but so have hundreds of others before me-it is a perfect noun for Breda, even if she is several hundred rounds behind me in shooting - I do have years on her). Anyway, although Breda gave me the idea, the Armed Canadian convinced me to spend the time.

Airborne, Army, Awful -- oh, accent, you didn't notice but I will drop a y'all on ya, along with yens and youse guys. But that is just playing, I speak like the television news fellows and color my speech with emotion when riled, Minnesota, Ohio, Pennsylvania then North Carolina.....

Breakfast, yes, daily, old fashioned oatmeal nuked in microwave, raisins, crushed walnuts and almonds, 2% milk, mixed with medications and black coffee. Wife spoils me on weekends with eggs and such.

Chore I don't care for - wasn't that why it is called a chore? Trapping moles comes to mind, I don't take any pleasure in it, and have to be really pushed to go out and set the traps. But have done it before and will do it again, but would rather reach a negotiated settlement (but have more faith in winning the Lotto).

Dog or cat - have had both in our home over many years, we gave up - since my wife and I have two very different ideas of the place of animals in our world, and different methods of training the poor humans taking care of the animals - we gave up after giving up my son's dog. Too much heart break. I would love to have a harrier to jog with and my wife wants a toy something to smother with maternal love.

Essential electronics, my computer - did I mention I have three, two set up and one backup and I don't want to live inside them, but seem to sometimes too often?

Favorite Calogne? Whatever she is wearing that I only notice when I get nearer her neck - oh, for me? Old Spice after shave - no one ever gets that close to my neck that they would care and I don't wear it often. That bottle has been in this house about eleven years now.

Gold or Silver - I like both, have rings in various amounts, but really cold steel stirs me much more than gold or silver. Although I do think the real American Silver Dollar was a great coin to have in one's pocket.

Handbag? I wear a backpack for local motorcycling, or a messenger bag on my bicycle, but handbag, that is too metrosexual and young for a throwback like me - handbag? I am old but I am not dead.

Insomnia; I have been known to sleep through rocket attacks, my wife likes to stay up late and I like to get up early - but we both have different reasons for staying awake - and always a problem that we just haven't the best solution for --- yet.

Job title - officially: Library Associate, or hidden: Library/Archival Paraprofessional level 5 or personal one: The Library Keeper.

Kids: Had one lost one, had another and he grew up. The best reason for Earl and KC was the kid. Wish we could have been better bumblers, but still feel blest.

Living arrangements? Home in suburbia, married long time. If it needs adjusting my wife will let me know - loudly or with deafening silence (guess which is worse?).

Most Admirable Trait - I don't think I have one, or any that stand out - I think my two friends might have an answer to that but I don't want to get too proud of any of me - I do know the dark side.

Naughtiest Childhood behavior - escaping, broke out of my playpen by breaking the slats, jumped out of a second story window when I was four or five, ran away from home to join Castro in Cuba against Batista (the mountains slowed my progress to a halt and a retreat - it was only a three speed English racer and the night was dark), breaking into my home when my father locked me out as a teenager (was so proud of my son when he did the same when his mother locked him out).

Overnight Hospital Stays - only one, my first major motorcycle accident put me and my concussion in the hospital for recovery and observation. Lovely motorcycle and fool boy meet steel guard post - post wins!

Phobias - isn't that something you fear foolishly? Only long legged redheads that think I am something.... everything else I fear righteously. You can get killed out there.

Quotes - "You could be wrong, you've been wrong before."

Reason to smile - pure joy in the wonder of others and love and laughter.

Siblings - Sister, brother, sister and they are all doing well differently and the best they can beautifully.

Time I wake up - from 4:20 am early work day to seven am if I don't need to work for pay that day.

Unusual talent or skill - none, I am normal but broken in well.

Vegetable I refuse to eat - I am an omnivore - it is all food if it doesn't bite first, that makes me happy, I once didn't like lima beans and wax beans but then met C-rations and learned how bad they truly could be.

Worst habit - tapping on something or clicking a pen - I never notice. No matter what Breda says, Procrastination is an art, not a habit and I will perfect it one day when I get around to it.

Yummy stuff, watching a perfect Combined Arms attack or defense destroy a worthy enemy in combat. You either do know what I meant or you haven't ever been there, and both are fine.

Zoo animals I like most, human beings wandering the zoo, all the other animals should be free where I could enjoy missing them by my clumping along gracelessly. But we do visit zoos, sometimes, and watch the polar bears wear their fur off in frustration. Which might be why Animal Planet is so much more fun than the zoo.

See, it was interesting for me, but a bit boring for y'all. Bye!

Library keeper is keeping a library

I have been busy and doing and today became special, since I motorcycled through the beautiful rural and forested country away from I-5, the special smell of ripe strawberries being picked was wonderful. I got to the Library building in Tumwater and watching a mother duck and her one remaining duckling swimming in the pool and I noticed the red winged black birds have expanded from the area I remember them in four years ago.

I report to Laura's office to meet the webmaster, he wants us to use the Wordpress program on the Library computers instead of the .com. I say okay, and show him what we have already and I say I will transfer everything after my Program manager okays content and he promises to send me the link in an email, I give him my business card with my information on it. By the end of the day he still hasn't sent me anything, too busy? I want to get it up and gone public, so I can link it from this blog and visit it or send folks in that direction, but not yet. we are moving at the speed of a very big library -- so slow. Build it and they will come.

I got back on my trusty Triumph and hit I-5 for a speedy return to McNeil Island (speeds up to safe low level flight), even paying six dollars to park near the ferry so I can get there earlier. No walk, no jog, only chin ups I will have to call this a rest day. We did lots of library work and June reports to finish tomorrow, and the draft of the presentation for the WALE conference. Doesn't seem to stop, this train running on the hamster wheel. I was talking to one of my two friends on Sunday and I mentioned that I was going to keep my job on the island, I don't have a chance to get bored - I can get behind, frustrated and overwhelmed but I can't get bored.

Electronic Death ...

Playing computer games makes me happy that electronic death is reversible, going back to where one saved it, or just starting over since the pattern wouldn't change with a new character. Building Civilizations and throwing Nukes would never bother a real gamer - there weren't any real people in those cities. Kind of like watching an actor in "High Noon" get killed, he would come back to die again in "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" and many times between the two. Yeah, electronic death is so unreal there isn't a tear shed for the departed Master Elfen Ranger/Monk/Thief from some fairy forest- fifteen games later you don't even remember his name.

I mentioned several blogs back about the death of honey bees, and that my unscientific mind linked their going with the arrival of cell phones and GPS satellites. I now add the HDTV signals that will consume the band lengths with even better deluxe time wasters. I really think the pounding of the digital signals wasn't as harmonious as the analog radio waves were, kind of like listening to the BASS on the little lowered Honda Civic beside you at the stop light - if it never changes someone is going to die from road rage. I am probably wrong but want to blame something I recognize for the disorientation of the honey bees.

I recognize the disorientation because I want to accomplish certain things every day, and instead my good intentions suffer an electronic death. I turn on the computer, turn on the television and get lost in blogs, emails, infomercials or breaking news, weather and traffic reports. I guess I am fortunate that I don't like telephone conversations and refuse to live linked to a cell phone. When I jog I think, I don't drown my mind and body out while listening to music - maybe language instruction and drills would be worthy, but I jog with my thoughts of long legged red heads or some adventure never lived, aliens never met and millions never needed. But really, the computer and television when turned on suck all my discipline away like alcohol does to that first layer of the brain - control. I can listen to music and function, but for some reason I cannot watch without giving myself up to interacting with the medium presented. Time slides right along and I have lost a little bit more of my life.

Nice thing about the blogs and emails, they will be waiting when I have the right time and I have accomplished my goals for the day. So allow me to apologize, sign off this blog and now, and go get my motorcycle ride in for all the best reasons. To live one must disconnect from the electronic digital noise turning my brain and life into mush. Outside, there is weather to experience, people to meet and greet, go ye forth!

The side of me, I will never see...

Quality time, with my wife and she wants to go to the YMCA and soak up heat, and I want to go shoot my pistols. So we do a little of both. She snaps some pictures of me shooting and this one catches my eye - since I never see this side. One never really knows how the world sees one, looking in a mirror helps get the hair straight and eye brows swept up but it is backwards from what you really are. So pictures have to cover the real you - and you do keep throwing away those that don't make you look good, tough, resourceful and brave (or at least I do). Some will worry about sexy - but that is so young in thought and foolish I am above that now, so above worried about looking sexy. But I do still look.

I, of course, am looking at how fat I am, hoping I still fit my pants and the spare tire isn't bulging too much (suck that stomach in, way in!). I was going to the Y so I will get a workout in, twenty-five minutes and nine seconds to row 5K, and thirty minutes on a step-strider for real sweat. I shot my KelTec PF-9, thirteen bullets, last seven all in the black. I also fire my favorite Colt Mark IV, Series 70, Government Model, .45 cal -- the last twenty only missed the black seven times, must have been rushing. It makes me happiest that all the bullets hurt the target aimed for, and although I couldn't charm my wife into shooting more than pictures I was very happy that she liked how well I perforated the paper and wants me to invite one of her ministers to come shooting one Saturday - I am all for that.

It is very difficult to be really objective about one's self and images. One of the reasons we test ourselves so often as we learn skills or achieve new levels of proficiency - we want to see how we are doing against the others in the race - The HUMAN Race, of course. I heard so many times yesterday that we were in the best country in the world, and although I know it is my country I have been in others and don't find this one the best at everything - there are some really great ideas that our country should consider. That goes back to my point about not seeing some sides of me - beyond my back, just in how I am in a social situation, how my critical comments will be received by people with other agendas, how I look to those afraid of weapons in my home, hands and head, how I look to those that knew me way back when -- that is a side I will never see. Everything about me I see through my mind's eye first; colored by trauma, emotion, desires, fears and dreams. I will never see your real "Earl" (me), I just hope I am better than either of us have noticed and remarked on in my life.

What are you doing on Independence Day?

I am getting ready to celebrate Independence Day, mine of course, the Fourth of July when men of courage signed a document that Declared the Independence of the united States of America from Great Britain and King George the Third. I will get up early and fly the American Flag from my home, all weekend, remembering the reason. I will then re-read the Declaration of Independence with a critical eye to see if I will join those long dead heroes and sign on with them. That is the point, there has just been a Supreme Court Decision about the 2nd Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America - and although it was written in the same English language of the Declaration of Independence the learned justices don't understand what "infringed" means in regards to my Rights (and yours, too).

I am certain that George Washington did understand, Adams understood, Jefferson knew what all those words meant in all our founding documents. They argued over them, crossing off the ones that wouldn't work, crafting phrases carefully knowing that the World would study them and be encouraged by them. They expected that they would be a foundation of education in politics in America forever - after all men were dying for them already. It did help that the British had departed from Boston, and fortune telling wasn't predicting the defeats of Washington's Army on Long Island and in New York. Congress would play a dance with the British forces and still try and sustain the Rebellion, it wasn't a Revolution until later. Brave men, you can join them, sign up after you read the words. "Teach your children war and politics, so they may teach their children agriculture and business, so they may teach their children music and verse."

Maybe education was the problem, ever wonder at Abraham Lincoln and Frederick Douglass, they seemed to do so well without much public education, certainly no certified teachers. I am a library keeper, and to me, if I could bring back the founding fathers - I am sure they would be stunned by any restriction on a man carrying arms. But then they were willing to fight about it and get it right. Do the words "our lives, our fortunes, and our most sacred honor" have meaning for you, would you sign the Declaration of Independence. Or are you waiting for a judgement from the Highest Court in the land?

Have a wonderful holiday celebration, a safe one, and remember what it is all about.

Problems with blogging are keeping me up...

I am, and I think therefore I 'really' AM, and I blog (verb) so y'all know I AM. Just remember I ain't the Great IAM, I always will. Yesterday was a bad day, spilled fuel on my motorcycle, left the receipt in the machine, rode off to work and other minor failures too numerous to mention. The calendar called me to the Institutional Library Services blog, another presentation to THOSE IN CHARGE next week on my time and their dime. It only exists on Wordpress and is totally private, even when we want to invite other Library Keepers from ILS they have trouble getting in and on and being so amazed at the good work. But I am getting my fill of being protected for my own good.

Wasn't Mayor Daley, of the noble Chicago dynasty, challenging me to get my gun and meet him with his in the street for a shoot out? I saw it twice on the telly and felt he thought we had to settle our differences that way. I wasn't interested, he wouldn't stand a chance against an old former paratrooper with one of Browning's finest designs built by a formerly wonderful arms manufacturer (given to me by wonderful loving wife for my birthday long ago). He knows that good law biding folks won't be coming anytime soon, he has disarmed us for his protection - although I do understand some criminals are still walking around armed and he might watch those times he goes out into the streets, but he has personal body guards doesn't he?

I fell asleep on the ferry ride away from the prison, the horn woke me and I was startled into getting oriented and off the boat before it returned to McNeil Island, I was so gone that I left my backpack with helmet and rainsuit on the boat. It had to be treated like a potential explosive package - thanks to quick radio call and my response they held it for me until I could return for it and get my chastising for making their shift less smooth than they wanted it. In Iraq the engineers would have blown it up, righteously. I couldn't have ridden my trusty Triumph down to pick it up, since I wouldn't have been wearing a helmet, so I accepted the ride in a big GM truck like the one that almost rode me down last week. Better driver and happier ending since I got my gear and rode on home. The State is certainly watching over me.

I have a anxious wife, she knows exactly how long it takes me to get there, the garage door is open and she hovers. We greet and go on in and start catching up, restoring links and covering our domesticallity. I am in for a treat, Vietnam noodles, cooked by the Korean lady love. I also get sliced cucumbers in vinegar with sesame seeds (the perfect Summer cooler) and a mug of coffee. All so welcome and totally undeserved for my wife has ripples in the harmony of our universe. She is still looking for closure on my going out and meeting two guys I don't know from anywhere for dinner on Sunday. (In Korean society if you don't have a proper introduction by people of responsible manner you are not to be trusted - ever!) Well, Sailcurt is out of here today, safe voyage, and Big Bad Wolf is so busy he hasn't written on his blog and I am okay being me mostly alone; cutting the grass, riding the bike and shooting straight all for the best reasons. But it calls me to my ripples in my harmony of our universe. The blogs that die along the way...

Skywriter was great, I looked forward every day to what wonder I would find on her blog - then something ugly came along and she said good-bye. I believe she is fine and I know she never knew I existed but I have faith that she will be rewarded in Heaven no matter what happens on Earth. About the time I start following the War on Terror in the Sandbox and various military and supporting military bloggers I find that those same stupid (did I call them stupid? they just stopped reading this) officers, that I would never follow in combat anywhere (because they don't ever lead and never know the price and can't count the cost), those officers still wear the uniform and stomp out life where ever they can't stand it. Ka-BOOM of Gravedigger fame - written by an officer not like the other ones, is dead and destroyed - only in the blogging universe. I know now why bloggers steal real blogs for archiving, since they can really disappear from the cyberspace - they are only binary code when looked at very closely. Being a prayer I honor his request and will continue to pray for him, the Gravediggers and City Girl, just because it is right and I can do no more. I also hope the fool (read stupid) officer that kicked over the switch gets smarter or sent off to a corner where he (or she) can't hurt real combat operations. But I am too much a paranoid pessimist to put any faith on that happening.

Well, only sixty minutes and one mug of coffee, black, to get my mind back to empty and greet the remainder of the day, oh and I have to go, someones are out there waiting for me. I may get a chance to greet the last of the returning 4th of the 2nd ID, but they might get in early and the evening commute may get in my way. As long as they get back safely and rejoin America at the Mall well, God Bless'em All.

My mother wants a letter and...

I am on the blog instead, better get focused (AGAIN?), devotions, letter, bill paying (1st of the month, last half of the year for real people - first half of the year for my State Government's budget) and breakfast and physical exercise (jog, body weight boring reps, hot shower and shave).

Oops! Coffee