End of March, Tax Time... procrastination defeated

Don't you know that once a year one has to account for being a successful citizen of the United States of America - and file your income tax return. Why do I feel like I am being punished for being able to take care of myself and my family? Why is it difficult to read the tax booklets and figure the tax owed? Why is it easier to pay for someone else to take all your documents (that you must provide) and file the return, and the government takes that cost from your income, but you couldn't charge yourself for doing the same service? Why do I have to pay the postage, isn't that a government function?

Well, I went with TurboTax, not realizing what it was now costing me for the special edition to account for the stock sales and such. Easier not to sell the stock, but it was interesting to watch it grow for all those years a little at a time and split and change value, did have one loser, most gained and the government wanted their cut, sigh. See the Communist countries didn't have to worry about that, there are other ways to mess with their people. Anyway, I answered all the questions, put in all the numbers, and could have done it with the forms from the local Library and a sharp pencil, but then would have worried that my mind is going - how do they want that added and subtracted and multiplied by what? It is done, a very cute motivational tool, the income tax due in the upper left corner, as you add income it gets larger, as you find deductions it gets smaller - that was cool. I do owe this year, but less than three hundred dollars. It will all be in the mail on Wednesday. Then again the wonderful magnificent government is going to send us money in May for being way too thrifty - should I invest it in Euros?

I have created a ripple in the Harmony of the Universe, I said something about money to my wife and she wants to question where it all went. The idea there was secret money, and that she can do so much better than I - well, I don't want to play that game any longer. She gets to start writing the checks, she needs to know how to do that anyway for when I am gone (how many tax years do I have left?) - I will go so much earlier when she finds out that the cost of her world is more than she knew. But I am only responsible for making her life that worry free, not for the price of things and the declining value of the dollar, I just have done that manly thing of grabbing the check and paying for those things she feels she has to have. That was wrong of me - the truth doesn't hurt, but it does shatter many dreams and desires, but adults don't live out fairy tales - they just go to the library and read them... one shouldn't get confused.

Update, Sunday evening, I went back over the income tax form, found some thing that didn't match my calculations and went back over and put the correct date relationship into the form and now I get a refund, that makes me feel better, but I do like the forms and booklet better than just the computer software - since it walks you through everything like you aren't awake and aware. But it was a solid program, I just didn't see what it was asking for properly and mark it correctly. Be sure you are correct, then verify.

How we work wonders in the world...

I found this fine picture of a well worn warrior, and I immediately knew this guy knows how to do his job observing and slamming enemy with massive death from a far, and I laughed at the people that were trying to justify his wearing his uniform and weapon that particular way, the shaggy hair and unshaven cheek -- maybe they never went where one is hoping for just a bit more sleep, a little more hot food and enough water to drink between those "one must pay attention or die" events in combat zones... maybe. Not being in the death dealing business any longer I still observe and am glad there are soldiers serving, and really glad there are very capable soldiers serving.

--

Three posts with pictures with guns and one would think that I don't know I work in the dusty dry book circulation circles. But I do know it, I am at a quarterly conference for the Institutional Library Servers (really 'Services') - those heroically manning the libraries out in the prisons and mental institutions of Washington State. We are exchanging views and news about ourselves and our work, and learning about the future, the budget, the priorities and our new assignments. I have to figure out which elected officials should be invited to our libraries, to see what we do on a daily basis and show them how they could help. I will be watched carefully - politics are a very careful business for those that want to survive (walking on fragile flooring). We worked on a future blog for public view (no it isn't ready yet, we have little idea of what we can do, but lots of thoughts about what we want to do), it was interesting watching someone create at blinding typing speeds and then going back and changing much to protect us innocents and crafting a better product. One critical goal is to get our vacancies out where interested library workers can find them - I guess I could put some links on my blog, but then I would be thinking lots of library professionals and paraprofessionals visit, and that isn't true just wistful thinking.

So one more day of conference and exchange of ideas, then back into our solitary sanity in the middle of chaos central - the institutional library. Helping find that special book, piece of music or information for our patron's purpose, always hoping that their lives and our world becomes better for our efforts. Never totally alone, there are telephones, emails, fax machines and some really great people working in the institutions and institutionalized... for whatever reasons befell them there. May your world be in harmony today... even if you can't ride your motorcycle.

Yes, it is snowing in my backyard, Al Gore....

I am a failure, didn't do the day's start correctly and fell behind so quickly. I was distracted by a long legged redhead, that couldn't dig a fighting position, wasn't slick when loading a shotgun and she had a tattoo. Still I was tempted to put my life on hold while her song and story loaded and then played. Needless to say it was just the tip of the iceberg (no global warming here) I watched another and read blogs and dropped some comments and the morning was gone...

I did get my gruel, shave and dress and get a sleepy kiss good-bye from my wife (who likes staying up and sleeping in), teasingly I nuzzled her and she smiled keeping her eyes closed and told me to have a great day, I told her to care for those kids (infants and toddlers' childcare on post). Which led me to think as I drove through the wet darkness about when I stopped taking hugs and nuzzles from the people that cared for me - I figure it was when boyhood meant being tough and hard and working on becoming my father or some other larger than life hero. Must be a way for a boy to grow up without missing the nurturing and still be as hard as he needs to be to destroy his enemies quickly and completely. That brings up the carrying a weapon, so one is prepared, and I don't carry because I am almost certain that it won't be needed in my quiet life (I do need to re-new CCP next year) and absolutely positive that if I had to shoot an enemy I would and without regret for their loss of life, but sad that my life wasn't gentler - nothing changes when you have been over that ground before, ride it the same way if it brings victory.

So I come home two library periods early, for a forty hour week is difficult to schedule when I have to attend training away, and I watch the snow falling; gentle fat flakes, covering the mown backyard, the little statue of Saint Francis and my wife's freshly seeded garden. The pile of procrastination wouldn't take care of itself, and the snow will fall as it wills, looks like minivan in the morning.

Why are you writing, you never say anything important?

Anniversary of my blog, NOT! But I should take some time to say something, seems lots of people I like to read are falling in weight faster than I (good for them) or falling apart with poor habits or cancers or medical nonsense - no one knows which. I hold out that the best will pass on too soon, and others will hold on and get only better and I will never know which. Really, my mother is still in a nursing home and my sisters and former sister-in-law are sure she may never leave there. I am saddened by those that do pass on, before I got to know them better and they change my life, especially. One blogger I loved to read dropped off, she was great but had a life off of the internet to live, I pray that she is blest.

I find that I am still running out of time, when I was sixty I knew I had ten years, well, I only have nine years, nine months and so many fewer days, and I am sleeping through parts of them with those wonderful military dreams with the barracks with busted plumbing. The airborne operations, long unit runs and running off armored vehicle ramps are all cool but why the busted plumbing and wall lockers that are broken into? What a waste of my remaining time, sleeping and dreaming. But not my greatest waste, currently I am wandering the internet looking to see everyone's remarks, when I could be working out, working harder, learning more about fixing plumbing.

I was doing a journal type weekly letter for most of my computer life, and sending it to my family all over, and my two friends. Then I thought I should try blogging, since I seemed to have so much to say. The idea was that I wouldn't have to bother my family and those last two friends with emails that were too big and mostly me, yes, almost all I write about is the wonderful ME. So I stopped writing letters and my mother went into the hospital, nursing and rehab homes for her improvement, so I don't have someone that would bug me when I didn't write and the blogs prove that once in awhile I have done something and have something to say... even if it isn't on the Presidential Candidates' list of things to consider for their campaign (if they aren't reading my stuff, am I reading theirs? nope), the Chinese don't worry about my take on Tibet either. So what happened to my family and pair of friends, well they are fine, glad you asked. I don't know that they bookmarked my blogs or website and check back in, or if they are smart enough for feed everytime I post... I know I don't use all the tools when I wander the internet, if it becomes too complicated I avoid it.

I am still resisting tying myself to a cell phone (I don't like answering regular real telephones in my home, and only do it at work because it is on the list of things I am to do - the inmate workers can't answer the telephones). I don't feel alone without the telephone, but then I jog and don't listen to music as I go - because I can run songs through my mind between daydreams or profound thoughts that will fade with the miles, I once built stories to tell while I jogged, that worked well. I become convinced I should turn off the computer more also. I am not an expert, interesting nor noted -- just me and I will pass along with all the others in Global warming, the next Ice Age or while pretending to chase long legged redheads. So slow in this older age.

Good Friday and everything is fixed in my life...

I get emails from both sisters about my mother's progress/condition and future, it is good to know and it is more to pray over. I had time for a slow starting day and a jog, so I braved the chill and enjoyed the jog, cleaned up and went to visit the Army base for my new hormone replacement for the broken thyroid. The Army didn't have what my doctor said I should, so I went to Walgreens and they made some up and charged me nine dollars. I will now start improving, taking my first pill within thirty minutes of receipt of bottle, I had to read the directions.

I went to work at lunch time, the Associate Superintendent met me on the bridge and made sure I had received her message about how to handle F-unit books, and that if I had any problem to call her immediately. She is really good, I call the shift lieutenant and notify him that the books and an inmate clerk are prepared for pick up by an RM, he calls for an RM to escort the book pushing inmate clerk. Tried it, the first call was ignored because of other stuff, next call to the next lieutenant was responded to immediately, F-unit got Wednesday's selections on Friday. One of their sergeants had called for two days leaving pointed reminders, I love a guy that does his job and jabs so joyously.

I had a closed door conversation with one of my new clerks, seems I am not appreciating him and his efforts, I am too critical, I am only critical of him and if I don't change my ways it isn't going to be as good as it could be. I took the most enraged position I could in my defense, but it wasn't going to get me anywhere, I didn't fire him, but I assured him that he would never have to cut forms out nor re-fill the boxes that hold them. I didn't tell him that he will be central circ station until he quits or learns all the reference books behind him and begs to work as needed and directed. There is always enough work at central circ for the day to go well and swiftly.

On the commute home I was struck by the congestion on I-5 south, it just doesn't move, as I crossed over it on a bridge. The people having the most fun seemed to be the C-17 pilots doing touch and goes in the patch of clear air over McChord Air Force Base. Surrounding that patch were towering glowering clouds of dark gray significant bad weather - but the big plane was swooping inside its clearing, I didn't know that celebration could be seen so far away.

Salmon dinner awaited me and I took my wife to her church for their Good Friday communion, I was warmly greeted by all the nice people that are sure I am a pagan barbarian only showing up on Easter and Christmas. They have good intentions but I am already working on being a better Earl at the other church and its choir. Still it was good to reflect on the real cost of salvation, the price paid the example set. Something to appreciate and to aspire to become more giving.

Bit by Alligator, swamp still flooded and nasty...

I lost the battle today, the war is over. Mission last Bureaucracy always, sigh. Tomorrow I will talk to my liaison about how impotent I am, no longer able to get a couple bins of books up to F-unit and back. They did make me take down the chin up bar in the library that the guys and I were having fun improving our strength on - seems one could imagine someone falling off and hurting one self, and a library is not a gymnasium (although they have more in common than I think).

I have a heart problem, I care too much, and I am a State employee and shouldn't care at all - I am not an elected official. My job is to do what is required, not to inovate, not to assume, presume, nor to think of solutions. If it is broken, just report it, don't try to fix it. I do have a problem. If the mission weren't so important I think I would take that boring eight hour day at the Public Library.

I was wondering at my three neophytes, they still aren't working hard enough, nor fast enough and certainly not smart enough. But they are trying.. they try me all day long. I was telling one of them about something he needed to correct, and he said I never say anything good about his work, which I am sure isn't correct, I always point out good things, little victories are important in life and I do point them out. Then another one wandered away from where I wanted him to work, and he has at least sixty reference books to become familiar with, but he doesn't see that as useful, yet. But the one that got my blood boiling was the smartest of the three, the mature and sure of his importance one - he interrupted my work flow because he couldn't help a customer with shipping charges from JC Penny. He told me that both catalogs didn't have the data for shipping cost, guessing that someone had ripped them out. So I looked at both catalogs after looking in the back for the extras - which I didn't find - the pages with ordering instructions to include the shipping costs were in both catalogs and I showed the customer, and yelled - LOUDLY - at the inmate library clerk, "I need competence, I don't need you to tell me that something is beyond your ability to find it!" Not good form, old chap, expecting someone that could be caught, tried and covicted of a crime to be competent. Not good form at all.

I was upset by all those alligators and the rising waters, but we knocked out a lot of work today. We did pull and check out to F-unit, sixty seven items - we just aren't delivering. I did link and put into the collection sixty-five items, some purchased and sent to us and the others donated, which means my experienced hard working and mostly quiet clerk prepared, stripped and stamped, covered in mylar, or book taped the spines over the call numbers he typed up -- those same books. While he and I processed out and in ILLs, and did requests for more ILLs, and accounted for some missing so far. And the overdues are done and out in circulation to the patrons, with a new clerk learning that job, a bit. Lots accomplished.

Well, I did talk to some customers, help find some stuff, and made a fool of self - another completely good day at the prison library. So when I check my Lotto ticket and find I am the big winner, should I quit and allow someone better to take that cushy job? Don't know, but the motorcycle ride home was fun, something new to work on showed up, and I, like always when I ride and feel like I am flying, I was smiling broadly... very.

When up to your butt in alligators - please drain the

I was thwarted, the Corrections Sergeant wouldn't allow one of my inmate clerks to deliver F-unit (IMU and Seg) books without an escort - and wouldn't provide the escort. So I stumbled and the books sat in bins on the floor of the library for days. I wasn't smart enough to drain the swamp, I was looking at the alligators. I walked into the prison yesterday and went to the place and pulled the plug. I took the first of my clerks coming in from lunch and we went to F-unit, through the control gates, by all the cat calling cheerleaders on their way to chow (pay attention to me, please pay attention to me). Through the second interior set of control doors, sign in desk. We dropped off the books and grabbed a bin of returns to check in. It will work in the future, just don't tell my boss. My boss thinks that movements beyond the bookcases and chairs behind the desks are in the realm of impossibility and other fantasy worlds, for real professional librarians anyway.

It was an interesting day after, my three newest workers continue to amaze me with their immaturity and lack of knowledge and curiosity, we work on it. The experienced clerk asks, when it becomes obvious that my stress level is way up there and about to explode, isn't it a good thing that I don't bring a gun. That makes me laugh, I respond that all the children would want to touch it and see if it was anything like the pearl handled chrome Super deluxe that they remembered shooting sidewize.... just kids at play. When I really get upset I wish I had just enough C4 and detcord to take the library down properly - without any humans being harmed. A big enough bang would bring me back into focus and off of the alligators. I missed the inmate patron that stole the four brand new magazines from my desk in the library, he didn't want The Advocate, but the three Robb Report magazines were gone when I went to process them. Ah, did I forget I am in a prison where crime against the state and authority is honored, where they have nothing and everything over that makes them feel rich and blest? Looking at the alligators again aren't I? Look at the big teeth on that one!

Well, I don't read the Robb Report, I will never aspire to having that much money to throw around looking rich and cool. About thirty minutes after the theft was discovered another inmate walks in and gives me three new books worth about sixty bucks at our discount - donations to the library collection since he has read them. There is balance in the world, even my little one. I order more ILLs, check for the return of all the overdue notices for ILLs, all completed save one, and one that we never received that we will have to pay for, we will call on that one. I order a few more books for this month's book cart and answer email and put incoming book purchases into the catalog, thirty titles, we are always improving the collection. Library life is so much better than draining swamps, but I do miss those big at my control explosions.

As I watched the media influence me for meds...

The news is on, it is Sunday, and I find the US Supreme Court is going to decide if the Second Amendent is an individual or collective right. I am betting the US Supreme Court already knows the answer to that question, and what they will be deciding is how to make it other than it really is because guns in the hands of law abiding citizens might be dangerous - they had an expert testifying to America that a gun in the house was twenty-two percent more likely to harm one of the family than bad guys. Yep, that kind of expert -- the one that they didn't ask how many guns are there in the United States, how many have been used in harming any humans, and what is that percentage of the total lawfully held. They never ask that, and the media didn't want you to think you should read the Constitution yourself, you do read it every year don't you, but that the learned justices must read the English language of the late 18th Century and tell you what the Founding Fathers really meant or how they couldn't have foreseen. It isn't Latin or Greek, folks, just English.

Okay, you think the media is reporting the question of firearms fairly, well, they followed with a story about doing away with the penny because it costs more than a penny to produce. Almost two cents per penny. So sway you to that side, get rid of the penny. I guess I won't get rich picking them up on my jogs, but do they tell you that the DOLLAR doesn't buy anything like it once did, that it has been steadily sinking in VALUE the last ten years? No, they want you to believe that it will be cared for by the Federal Reserve Bank and the Secretary of the Treasury. But if the Dollar were worth what it was in 1998, making a penny wouldn't cost one cent, it would cost less. What is truth? Why would I buy any medications advertised on television shows that don't really tell me the whole truth? Because I am old, gulible and plain old stupid? Well, maybe one day but not today and probably not on Tuesday when the Supreme Court deliberates about something even I read and do understand.

One of the stories I did like hearing prior to America's invasion and conquest or liberation of Iraq from Saddam, was that Saddam was about to start selling oil for Euros. Couldn't have been much truth to that, but it might have made American interests upset that another currency might share position as a standard. But then I like conspiracies unproven, and other fictions.

The one I brought to the dance...

Once long ago in far away Germany I lived in Nurnberg, was an Operations Sergeant for a great Artillery Battalion of the 1st Armored Division Artillery. The days were long, and full and I get to go home and have a fine dinner with my wife and son, then go sit in the easy chair and read or watch the news. Life for me is always better than I deserve. So I am sitting in comfort and about to zone into mellow when my four (working on five) year old son comes up beside me to get my attention. Being the great father I was, periodically, I turned to him and asked what was up. He said "Dad, Mom said to tell you Happy Anniversary!" So busted...

This is the woman that took her money and bought me my first Colt .45, the one I still load up and take to war. The woman that kept the hearth and heart fires going and sent prayers and love when I was away doing creative destruction for Democracy. This is the lady that I take to dances and would fight for at the drop of a hat, and don't ask to dance with her unless you are willing to fight me, of course she would want to dance once in a while - even with the guy with two left feet and no sense of shame nor rhythm. Rumor has it I could score points by taking the day off from work and my priorities and spend it on her and us. Sometimes Rumors are true. Bye! God, have I been blest for thirty-six great years... plus the three and a half before we wed.

Poetry and Fred said... you're burnt!

Fred's Dis-orientation

Days of gray and cold steel bars
Give way to fiction and the stars

Watching the hours and minutes pass by
With HG Wells, Time's limit is the sky

Theology and philosophy thought thru and thru
Castenada, Hubbard and Nietzsche, too.

Crime is reflected and memories of hell
This is a place that no one should dwell

Education comes next right there on the shelf
This is the place to better yourself

Pictures of birds, horses and snakes
A little imagination is all that it takes

Wheatgrass and sweetgrass, pills and drinks the same
This is the section if you are feeling lame

You're feeling better, now its time for your car
With the right type of book help isn't that far

Your yard needs sprucing and your garden as well
So follow these books and no one can tell

Beading and sewing and carving on wood
Using these projects your art will look good

If music's your thing, and you play the guitar
Learn what its like to be a star

Running and jumping and throwing a ball
The people in this section average 7 feet tall.

Everything written is fine and dandy
But once with Shakespeare, it's a treat of ear candy

Travel the world from Peru to Rome
You can do it all without leaving home.

Remember the battles both won and lost
From Iraq's dry desert to Siberia's permafrost.

You can now meet some people and make a friend
But rest assured this is not the end.

We have everything that you could need
Behind these walls, if you can read

If we don't have it just ask for some more
And before you know it, it comes thru the door.

Fred's here to help you with things he's been learn't
But, if you cop and attitude: Mister, you're burnt.



Recycled Non-seller

Deep in the bowels of the dark, dark tomb
Down where it's warm and quiet as a womb.

There sits a lonely, dusty row of books,
Anxious for any wide and eager-eyed looks.

They wait for open and yearning minds
Patiently waiting for us to touch their spines.

The glues is hard and the paper brittle,
Each has been used so very little.

With a yellow edge and faded jacket,
They urgently await the sounds of a racket.

The machine winds up to raise and awful din,
And gently all of the books are raise to the rim.

As the books slide down the belt
Their nervousness is felt.

Each wishes that it had been made into a bicycle
Sliding along waiting the chance to recycle

A sign hanging over the entrance maw
Reads in bloodly letters the following law:

A best seller or even a readable book you weren't
One last try, use it or "You're Burnt!"


Island Prisoner's Library (only flights of fancy allowed)

They come with thoughts of finding some escape
From drudgery, and boredom, and despair;
They take but one short hour to meditate
Upon the storied volumes offered there;

Erotica and fantasy they crave,
and bibs, and ILL's, and copying requests;
The clamor of their voices begs to save
Them -- Hear them, throned Nestors, make bequest

From your rich store of knowledge, gift them all
With hist'ry, science, bios, and the arts;
From dusty bays of much-loved mem'ry pull
Some arcane lofty tomes to ease their hearts.

And if, by then, it's clear they've nothing learnt,
They may yet hear the great Nimrod say, "You're burnt!"

Talking, taking time to talk, all day?

I rushed in to make my meeting with the Associate Superintendent for Programs - my liaison with DOC on McNeil Island. It is a monthly meeting and takes five to ten minutes and we catch up on where the Library is going and any DOC moves that might affect our operations. Music rooms are going into the old Hospital building far from us (hurray!) and the Law Library is moving into the large rooms out of their cramped dark very old area. The Associate Superintendent is much more organized than I will ever be and if I were to classify her, since I once walked against her in the race to get inside the gates and get to doing - I would say she is a type double AA personality, but I say that with a caution (I don't really know her) and that I think she does very well everything she does and that is good for us all.

Off to work and opening the library, greeting the crew, turning on the machines and the dog handler comes in, has his dog sniff around and he stops to talk to me and asks if he can get books from our library. I explain that for recreational reading we advise the staff to use their local public library since there is so much more out there than in here, BUT... we can certainly help find the books he is looking for. Seems a dog handler from another institution near Spokane told him to get a book on dog training from his local library (us!) and he was checking if that was alright. Certainly, bring me a title or area and I will look it up and see if we can help you. I have always like him and his dogs, the current one is really friendly.

All my packages from the mailroom have been torn open, they don't care about re-use of jiffy bags so they just tore them open, if it had been only one I would have blamed the USPS but it was all of them and I saw the pattern. Security to see what is coming in, could be drugs, cigarettes, or weapons - so we check, I actually have to open every package and I have to inspect and close all packages going out - the staff has to control what is flying through the mails, and I do, five to twenty packages in and out daily. The opening wasn't announced by a note like I would normally get with an inspection effort and I would mention that to the next folks coming in.

Seems that some inmate had bothered some woman, through a telephone call and a letter. When the woman complained to DOC about it, wondering why she had been selected and what was going to be done to protect her in the future, the Custody staff got on it. Investigation questioned the inmate, he said that the address and telephone number had come from the Library, of course. Except in our library the White Pages with residences are removed from the telephone books to prevent such predatory activity by offenders. And I showed the Assoicate Superintendent for Custody the telephone books, which he vigorously examined, the inside Captain and the I&I staff were looking and asking questions, too. The Library wasn't at fault and we were fine, although they may try to get all telephone books out of the library, Re-entry means needing a place to stay and a job to work at, and those business directories, churches and assistance centers are essential reference material.

I heard the telephone ringing in the locked librarian's office (no librarian present most workdays so I can keep it locked up), and I answer on my telephone. I am being asked some questions by a person about to write an article about prison libraries. This is fun I think, I will get in so much trouble for saying what I really think, but then I do manage to remind her that I do not represent the Office of the Secretary of State, the Washington State Library, the Institutional Library Services of the same, I can only represent me working at McNeil Island Corrections Center -- having made sure we understood that I was happy to talk about the library services in my institution, how important they are, how under appreciated we are by the Governor and legislature (well, they don't give us enough money), how the OSOS has approached for more funding and staff and open hours but other priorities seem to get in the way. That last is only rumbles of what we hear, the officials with the powers may not know the need, they certainly haven't my name and number. So I expound, answer questions and give her more words than she can write swiftly, but she has the idea, she knows where my blog is and can look for all my posts "prison library" and she says she will check back when she has more written up.

Ah, I haven't talked to so many people that aren't patrons in a day not like this. And I was open for almost five hours so I had my crew and the patron flow to care for and answer questions, do we have the March Madness bracket set yet? I don't know, I don't follow basketball, I just answer questions and look for answers about stuff I don't know. Famous 19th Century French author, woman with a man's name to write under - George... Sand? The day is full email, ILLs, yes, and I talked my head off. A good day at the prison library for all.

What you bring back from your time away...

I am avoiding my exercises and heart rate run this morning, the weather man says it is raining outside somewhere - Seattle is so big and wants to dominate. The road is damp but it isn't raining here right now, and the neighbor has his wet weather gear on but is mounting his motorcycle for his trip to work, much more dedicated than I? or the only transportation he owns? I slide my wooden shoes on and move the garbage can out to the curb. I got the wooden shoes in Holland, one of many adventures into a beautiful little country, with flower gardens, long legged ladies that love to walk or bike, and where paratroopers from both sides in WWII would battle. I did the Four Days with the military and loved the greetings of the crowds in town on the final day, with flowers, they say it all with flowers. Of course, after one has the cheese, sees the canals and windmills, takes too many pictures of the flowers with ladies, and notices the homes are really small - then one finds out that the shoes are made in Wisconsin and shipped to Holland for tourists to buy, unless they are that special pair that a young man makes for his lady love - that pair would be from Holland. I track though the wet grass and spongy moist ground and know that wooden shoes with memories are the only way to keep my feet dry.

Time to see the expert on getting put into a box...

I like to think I am unique, one of a kind, and original -- but the doctor wants me to fit into a 'best health' box, with my blood pressure at a certain constant level, cholesterol at the best level and weight to height ratio with little fat fooling me. I don't fit, but then am not really fit yet again - hibernation does really happen, I should be a snowbird and go south for Sun or at least up on the mountains - it is too gray and dark in my days in the Great Northwest. I weigh 205.5 pounds this morning, and am starving since last I ate was six last evening. My blood pressure is 137/80 with the heart rate of 46. Dreams were my normal military tom-foolery, with long runs and bad plumbing. I did concentrate on running strides yesterday and made myself happy actually doing the distance a bit faster and thinking I looked graceful - although I still looked like an old man trying to relearn the joy of running.

Went to say good-bye today and wondered...

A memorial, a celebration of a woman's life, was held in my church and I attended. For she was a great little old lady, she had a heart that would have been crowded in a giant and she loved her world well with it. I normally duck mentions of death, especially if I know the person and want to remember them alive -- in my mind they never leave, their memory and spirit are always present. I find the pictures of her as a young woman with a short skirt and a hulking dashing boy friend leaning on a truck interesting - I certainly didn't know her then, looking at her grand-daughter I can imagine her young and lovely, but I knew her as elder and frail and interested and happy. Her husband is going to be lost for a bit, she was the center of his world.

I keep reading about war, for I pretend that I understand it too well, and I found this on the Rogue Gunner's blog. My concerns about cultures that risk their women fade as I read and wonder at this pilot and her duty well done. Never doubted their bravery, never doubted their skills, only wonder at our culture's wasting warriors and wenches for fat politicians... I am probably wrong to value women as potential mothers, there are so many of them that won't be, shouldn't be, and can't be... but still, I think a loving mother is the best thing for a baby and child, and no government program will ever match nature's.

Not a Gun Free Zone... a Library for study...

David Simchon, head of the seminary, said the students had been preparing a celebration for the new month on the Jewish calendar, which includes the holiday of Purim. "We were planning to have a Purim party here tonight and instead and instead we had a massacre," he told Channel 2 TV.

Yehuda Meshi Zahav, head of the Zaka rescue service, entered the library after the attack. "The whole building looked like a slaughterhouse. The floor was covered in blood. The students were in class at the time of the attack," he said. "The floors are littered with holy books covered in blood."

Witnesses described a terrifying scene during the shooting, with students jumping out windows to escape.

One of the students, Yitzhak Dadon, said he shot the attacker twice in the head. "I laid on the roof of the study hall, cocked my gun and waited for him. He came out of the library spraying automatic fire," he said.

Police said an Israeli soldier in the area then shot the man dead. After the shooting, hundreds of seminary students demonstrated outside the building, screaming for revenge and chanting, "Death to Arabs."

The seminary is the Mercaz Harav yeshiva in the Kiryat Moshe quarter at the entrance to Jerusalem, a prestigious center of Jewish studies identified with the leadership of the Jewish settlement movement in the West Bank.

It was founded by the late Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda Hacohen Kook, the movement's spiritual founder, and serves high school students and young Israeli soldiers, and many of them carry arms.

Link to the story, my take is that should be an example to our students and reaction forces...

Are you carrying, and do I need to ask?

Here is something to munch on, are you carrying? Seems there was a flurry of 'call the family your children are visiting to find out if there are guns in that home" not all that long ago - and I couldn't for the life of me remember any neighbors home that didn't have guns in it where I grew up. And we couldn't touch the guns in another person's home - right up there with the things that would change our lives violently and painfully - and look like a totally ill mannered fool.

Well, I won't carry to work in the prison. But grocery shopping and riding the motorcycle are going to get a little more exciting. Sense of responsibility for law and order, defending the truth and justice in the coming world of change, ride out to right the world's wrongs... the man of la mancha.

Old Dogs and new Tricks...

My program manager sent a new master time sheet for keeping the records of the hours we are open and instructions, along with a sample that she doesn't really want me to follow exactly but close. So I try to save a copy of the master with the new title, and the computer tells me that the form is protected unless I have the password to modify it. Ah, I don't have the password, and when I report to the person that sent the form I can't use I get silence. It doesn't matter, if I can't do my job because I don't have the essentials then I do the best I can after I notify the boss. I started one that I could modify, but not based on the one she insisted.

I also find that I no longer have motorcycle insurance, and I was sure I paid that online two weeks ago with my credit card. When I check the insurer has no such record but I am talking to a computer which sounds pretty smart, but wasn't that the same computer that I paid? I check the credit card company and get a live person (hurrah!) and find no record of the payment I thought I had made, must have only happened in my dreams. Okay, today I go find a real person and buy real motorcycle insurance this morning. I will pay by check and then go visit my Credit Union to record the new insurance, before the State comes after my tags. Real money and real people are so much better than this virtual stuff sent across the cyberspace. But I was already moving away from trusting the computers to be friendly to me, locked me out of my online service - for my own protection, from me and my old man mistakes.

I have often said things about not carrying a pistol since my life has been mostly fightin' free. But my wife went to her child care duties yesterday and found the parents of one of her favorite babies (they all become favorites quickly), murdered - some left over romantic possessive jealousy rotted into death for the betterment of the stupid murderous person... and it isn't going to get better, but the baby is lucky in that she is too young to remember the missing parents. Not enough hand to hand fighting going on? Would have been better for all involved if they had just punched and kicked on each other until they got tired and then gone and washed up. It didn't happen that way and I don't get all I ever wanted anyway. I had best go learn those new tricks before the computer messes me up some more.

First Responders

Citizenship should mean responsibility: to report a fire, an accident and things that threaten life. Why doesn't it happen more often? Is the fact that 'everyone' goes faster than the speed limit mean that no one should report bad driving, speeding or fool racing? Does that fact that a 'little' recreational drug use doesn't make one a key player in the drug empires of the world?

If a Boy Scout understands "Be Prepared" as a duty to have first aid skills to assist in saving lives, to help establish traffic control and flow around a problem, to deliver services and goods to those shut in, to make the world a better place than he found it -- why is it only the area of the government for most of us -- when did watching and waiting and whining take the place of getting involved and fixing the temporary problem? Too much television watching?

Paralyzed by fear, or Prodded to Perform -- same situation different reactions, and only one gets you killed. Victims or Victors, don't see enough of the latter and the media sings the songs of the former. The Death Songs.