Electric Noise

I listened to the radio, the television, the computer and then turned them all off and went looking for what I had missed while plugged in - tuned in - turned on - zoned out... It takes too long to load, don't watch that video clip, you didn't learn to read fast to watch the load meter. Go to the gym, mow the grass, ride the motorcycle, buy some wine, go jogging, watch the sunset and the stars come out. Hard to believe, there is life outside the front door... goodnight!

Diversity or division and gang warfare?

Back to work, running a prison library and the work flows. Today the Mexicans came up with more requests. My token Hispanic, who calls himself 'Brown' and says he doesn't speak any English was looking out for his brethren. If they speak Mexican they always approach him first, so he comes up with another young man to ask for something about Aztec Dance. They are having their heritage day in September (don't think Cinco de Mayo) for El Grito is 16 September, and want to have the Aztec costumes, music and dance as part of the festivities. I asked if it was going to end with open heart surgery, prison humor, and wanted to know if there was more. They wanted pictures and stories about Ninos Heroes, Villa, Zapata and Benito Juarez. I get waves of this kind of request.

As Juneteenth was being planned I get requests for The Emancipation Proclamation, some Black History and Heroes. I shake my head, the books are there on the shelves, have been all year and have been read - but the men asking for assistance aren't real readers and would like something to hold in their hand and work with. American lack of education system at its worst, grown men that can't read well enough to be confident that they could find the right answers.

When the white men started looking for Viking, Norse and Nordik Religion, myths and History I began to think I was watching the rising of the Aryan Nation again. Sure enough, they started looking for Aryan language and roots. The search is on, and History and Fantasy flows from the books and information found. Now I see a Scavenger Hunt Game on typed sheets of paper - over a hundred tough questions about Norse Kings and their wars in England and the World. New and old Historical Fiction of the period and the Vikings are getting well circulated. I am even asked to give some classes on the Germanic migrations, and the follow-on Nordic. I haven't time nor talent, but I do make sure the best of the books are present for reference and circulation.

I give all the assistance I can in each group's search for truth and its roots. The prison has taken most of their identity away and stuffed them in white t-shirts and khaki pants. All alone they have little power, together with a tradition and a history they become greater than just felons. They know that they can't be Americans any more, they have no Rights when they leave the Corrections system, as former felons they can't have weapons, serve in office nor vote. Unless their civil rights are restored - look it up, the law makes a felon a permanent lower class in America.

I constantly compare my military experience with the prison, and always like the military better - it is an honored (except by hippie peace-niks) profession. And prison is where the felons go, the ones growing pot near a school bus stop (school ground?) and the ones carrying a firearm in public libraries, lots of ways to become a felon - ask Martha Stewart. The military always loses much of its 'honor' when some civilian thinking person comes along to make it less military - luckily they send the armed forces off to fight and the military comes back with a roar, and the ones wanting it to be kinder and gentler are sent to improve the education system or fix voting fraud at home. Anyway, my point is that the military will take the need to be part of the group of gory glory gunners and use it to get the best out of what could have been the worst. The only way I can make a big difference in the prison is with a respectful, challenging but helpful educating of the inmate into what is in the library, what we can bring into the library and what he can do with his new knowledge. He has to do all the work, and he has to survive and he has to spread the word about what he has found. I always like one old hand inmate leading a new guy from the chain around to get registered and shown where the good books are, another one for our side.

Memorial Day, I am off to talk to the dead...

Cool gray morning in the Northwest, I go out to raise the flag. A visiting Russian General was once amazed at the number of American flags flying all over in our country. I am sure that they are flying today, half staff until noon. I am going to Mount Tahoma National Cemetery and walk the lines and listen and read the stones, I will have one some day in the future I expect unless we move again in this life time that I will be buried there, a good place to be among those others like me, who served our country and kept so free. Rumor has it that America isn't ready to sacrifice and really fight for freedom, that they think they can hire heroes. I know there are thousands of them, tens of thousands and probably hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions of Americans ready to stand up and protect all that is best in America and the World. Going to go remember those that have done that, be good and go gently.

I mostly loved my time in uniform, but in 1969-70 I drew details that I didn't want, funeral details, as a Sergeant I got the firing squad or the flag folding, I did both. In dry dusty little towns in Southwest Oklahoma and Northern Texas we would ride a bus and get off and get ready and perform in the best of military tradition, and honor another fallen soldier from Vietnam. Uniforms perfect, always in step, Ready, Aim, Fire! Ready, Aim, Fire! Ready, Aim, Fire! The bugle sounded mournfully cutting the silence. Present Arms! Order Arms! and we would go away. Leaving behind the most beautiful people, I noticed the women - not an ugly one anywhere, all dressed to the hilt and crying silently. Mothers, sisters, wives, girl friends, children, old men from older wars and the tears were flowing. I didn't like those details, putting a young man to rest, but then they had come home. I did it the best I could, and would prepare my uniform and polish my brass and shoes for the next one - we always knew that there would be another one in a few days.

I'd introduce you but...

You get an offensive but interesting blogger - self-centered, profane and vulgar but very smart and often amusing - that writes something about a young boy dressed and expressed and then distressed. And you follow a fellow that looks at the world, repeats his view graphically in four panels, that really does know the why of the young kid above and wouldn't trash him for his minor flaws in talent and technique. They do need to meet each other, but they won't, for diamonds in the rough cling to grease and clay, not each other. And I am very cautious about sponsoring the meeting of a person to another - in Korea you assume all kinds of responsibility for their future contacts when you do that.

Updated as I went for the morning heart jog, I thought about drawing a picture of a skateboarder poised on the top of a chalkboard, below which stood a formal, nose in the air, school marm with her mouth open into which was dropping some black ink - from the skater's pen and ink bottle in his hand. In my mind it was a perfect picture of many things, for I think both of these bloggers are self-centered - her because she is smarter and shows her superiority so well, except for the cute character flaw of cussin' (and America forgives that so well). And him, the skater that knows where his center of balance is as he flys through the air at all times, otherwise he will not have that skateboard to cushion his arrival at solids in conjunction with the reality of gravity and physics. But by the time my jog was finished I realized that all bloggers are self centered, we really do think what we have to say is worthy and I am always hurt by how little my family pays attention to my wonderful mind on these pages (but I will get over it, honest). When I get back and am still sweating gently, I read that I have been read and was graciously noticed, which like most of my blessings I don't deserve but get anyway. Thank you very much.

About the skaters, I still believe that they are there for our opportunity to live in space in zero g's, but what do I know? The picture is my son when I was off "Saving Saudis from Saddam".

Turn off the electronics and enjoy the silence...

Okay, the neighbor is cutting the grass and there isn't any silence. But I should turn off the electronics - too distracting from my real life day, living virtually. I did find time today, in the beauty of the sunshine and warm to stop and shoot a little bit, strictly for familiarization. The range had run out of 9mm by two in the afternoon, but I brought a box with me, used forty-two to figure out that I am not exactly deadly at seven yards, but next time I will get my money's worth and go to the twenty yard line and shoot all my pistols.

The new one is too slim, too short, too DA, and wonderfully reliable so far and I don't see any trouble in the future with it, either. Remembering that this is something that I am not competing with, I am not taking to war, that I am going to wear and forget about mostly until the next time I go to practice. Well, time to clean up after a busy day and take my wife out to dinner, my son and daughter-in-law's treat and my pleasure.

Just me and the Blues, babe, what's cookin' ?

Stopped on the way home to pick up a pistol and two hundred rounds of ammunition for the weekend familiarization. I also picked up a desire for that Springfield M1A Scout Squad on the wall rack behind the counter, too polite to ask to hold it. Bank those embers of desire before they flame up and burn my good sense away. I also picked up Dave Workman's Washington State Gun Rights and Responsibilities, reading is good for building knowledge and raising questions. So after dinner and listening listlessly to the news a bit (wanted to know about the weather tomorrow) I spend some time reading the manual that came with the fine American firearm; all the safety, all the mechanics, all the good advice and all the disclaiming of my foolishness with their fine product, and the warranty information. The ammunition is also made in America, George the Third in his goodness has restored my confidence, dignity and sense of responsibility. Oh, I hadn't lost those things before the benevolence of the government giving a little back, had I? Nope.

I also put on my spandex NRA 5.11 holster shirt from NRA, yes they embroidered their initials on "MY" shirt, ugh, not cool and it is made in Guatemala. But the shirt is great, makes me look like a superhero, will have to get a Superman or Batman T to go over it, and find some muscles and lose some spare tires, but I will be so cool. And the pistol fits either pocket, tight to the body and it is comfortable wearing it, all day and under a shirt or jacket a very nice option for concealed carry. I also check out the Kangaroo Holster and have one for the right and the left carry positions, very comfortable. I keep thinking I want to get to the position of forgetting that I have the pistol, unless I need it. Very much the way I look at my knives, I put them on when I dress and then forget about them until I need them. Range is coming up Saturday, if I get the mowing done Friday evening, at least the front yard.

Things that make me sad: the disarming of the 82nd Airborne Division for their Division Review on Pike's Field during All American Week. The Praetorian Guard is in charge, or as we know it THE SECRET SERVICE are intent on being the only armed force close to the President that could complete a coup d'etat. They read history, and hope you haven't. But then they aren't sent overseas unless with the politicians they protect or trying to find where all those bogus bills are coming from now. The 82nd Abn Div remains eighteen hours to wheels up to anywhere in the world (courtesy of the US Air Force). I trust the 82nd, always and All the Way!

The other thing that makes me sad is the number of ways I can become a felon by carrying a weapon that the Government feels they need to infringe upon my rights, sigh, for the children I am sure. They don't get it do they? or is it just me - I don't get it? If I had the time left I would seriously think about working to get rid of those laws that had to do with no crime except that we passed this rule and you broke it. Forty-two people carrying weapons, one or two commit a crime (assault with a weapon) and the forty others have broken a rule (carrying in a public library in Ohio?) but committed no crime (hurting people or property). I guess I will have to start speaking up more, making me a felon is not the purpose of government. And I thought I was such a quiet nice guy, anyway, Earl's rules for carrying guns still applies: too heavy to do often and I am never anxious for an opportunity to shoot someone trying to kill me - been there and done that, except in video games it is highly over rated - except for the survivin' another day, which has it's own sweetness. Love life, and get a love life.

Response to Responsibility to Remembering...

The Roman Empire fell, and although it gave Shakespeare and much of Hollywood a living retelling the stories of toga parties before the frats went wild. Which is a fool way to start a blog about where Western Civilization is going to fall apart again. I think the Romans failed to respond to the changing threats, they wanted someone else to bear the burden. They stopped requiring everyone to serve, they hired the people with little future and sent them out and promised them a retirement in twenty or more years, in far flung borderlands of Latin speakers. If as we get ready to replace the nation's executive leadership in a multi-billion dollar media blitz it is clear the nation is made up of people that don't know there is a war on - somewhere, who our allies are, what our goals are and how we are treating the wounded and maimed and soon to be missing (returning veterans that will zone completely out). But then I know, and lots of others (none in charge it seems) do know, and I care.

One of my links left this mark and it fits my time left. My uncle and father are gone across that river, European Theater and Pacific Theater respectfully and respectively. My mother wrote a poem about being nineteen, her most wonderful year - marriage and first son's birth, and my father said he never was nineteen - which says a lot about his war and where he went.

Anyway, Citizens and well wishers, Memorial Day - the day dedicated to REMEMBERING THE DEAD, is coming. It isn't about the veterans, it isn't about the currently serving (that was Armed Forces Day and you might have missed it - Congress didn't give us a Monday holiday for it). It is about the Dead, the departed, those gone on. If you are in Washington DC, walk in Arlington, visit the graves, markers standing row on row, those mark the passing of a piece of history - our country's history, a little slice. But I would bet, where ever in the world one is, there is a graveyard with a few people sent by their country to do good work, and they did and they died. Go and visit them, talk to the ghosts and spirits, or just think about them - I suspect they live in memory only when we take that time to spend with them.

Found Resolutions! Now where is that Resolve?

In the Procrastination Pile, probably. How will I get there without a plan, would be good to know where one is going also. Anyway, the Resolutions might have been from some years ago but they do look good.

Go with God
Husband my Wife
Gentleman Warrior (Dangerous & Meek)
Healthier Weight 180 pounds
Blood Pressure 125/85
Stronger 21 pull ups
rest one minute
21 chin ups
Faster 8 minute mile jogging pace
21 minute three mile run
Be someone people look forward to meeting, not hiding from.
Cause more Happiness than Concerns.
Love more, and more and more.... practice making perfect.

Morning has broken

I check email, some blogs, and change my blog a bit. Yesterday went well at the presentation, we have permission to build the blog and will be open for business as soon as the new Communications Officers are on board. I went to lunch with the blog building crew and then rode fearlessly home along I-5, stopping at the Triumph dealer to see if my parts had come in and listen to the motorcycle lady talk about: what they had, she has done and that I wasn't old. Yes, she was good looking and checked for the status of my parts; so I can't hold it against her that she is too kind. The various models of my size motorcycle, 800 cc, call to me to try them out.

I have been thinking about spending the money the George in his goodness gave me. I could save it for gasoline, my shirts have frayed much from washing and ironing over the years, I lust for a powerful pocket pistol (those things I lust for are too often safe from me, procrastination piles await such). I am taking notice of the dew damp grass, will attack it later after drying, the edging out front could start after devotions, breakfast and exercising. My wife is still sleeping, she sleeps hardest in the morning and I sleep hardest immediately after going to bed. I wonder if it was a life full of get your rest while you can, for something wicked this way comes to wake you abruptly. Rockets and rackets, red glares.

Nice thing about today, the weather is warm and wonderful, most of my work is done or can be delayed, the Azaleas and pink dogwood are in color and bloom against the massive dark and light greens of the forest behind the fence. Birds are out and about, bumble bees have buzzed me as I lay on the ladder to get a shot from below, then set the ladder up to get a bird's view of the yard. The wooden shoes from Wisconsin via Holland slipped on easily and walked the yard collecting damp clippings, better them than my toes and then the kitchen. Second mug of Black Coffee, it is time for devotions and betterment, may our world be more beautiful and our time to appreciate it longer.

Spring has really arrived...

Light fog yesterday, but the weather man has been promising Sunshine and warm weather, so I rode the trusty Triumph. There is little room to park, seems that the fair weather riders have brought their shiny steeds out to play and display. I like that, I see three bald eagles soaring and think that Harley-Davidson is correct to pick the eagle as their emblem - standing for made in America, and coming out only in the best of the weather, and beautiful to watch soar and roar, respectively.

Lots of wild life, two raccoons are digging along the beach at low tide, geese honking in our air, seagulls just soaring in the breeze and ravens flapping furiously trying to keep up with the food chain. Three deer were brousing in the apartment complex, must not be hunting season in town. The smallest of birds seem to be engaged in building nests in hard to reach places. It is Springtime and feels like it, finally.

Library's last open day for the week, Thursday. Today I have to be in Tumwater to help present the ILS blog site and concept to the Secretary of State, it isn't quite ready for prime time - being our public face, for the folks that don't get out much (Institutional Library Services), we would like to share our best and encourage more come in to work with us. Lonely loves company.

I had a normal day at the office, except one patron that started to talk about his family history - which I had helped him research once - and he started to get loud and offended by the other inmates, who were teasing him. When he went into shouting foul language I stopped him, told him not to do that, and when he started to get louder and defensive with me I told him to go out of the library - now. He didn't go and tried talking me down and I started looking for the amber button on my radio as I reinforced that he had to leave now, and I was not happy that I was going to have to call the correction officers to escort him out. He caught that, and said he was going and left. If the officers had come he would have gone to F-unit for failing to comply with my order. The other inmates told me that I had shown real patience - I thought I was one step behind during the incident. He was from lower A unit, which are the inmates that are under mental health care and often on medications for their particular problems. I will have to do better.

The ride home was great, dinner was salmon and my smiling wife, I check the blogs and find folks going to Louisville, and I think of a friend that lives there now - hope she is well. All the news that is fit to print from the gun bloggers and the NRA this coming week, I will be reading when not riding and cutting my growing grass and bettering the world that I live and love in.

End of the World

Political certainty aside, the Mayan Civilization (which isn't working well anymore) predicted the end of the World by water or whatever in 2012, or MMXII. Having lived through the Y2K destruction of cybers spaced by short sighted programmers, I am not really concerned except for the WATER thing. Seems I have read a book that said Earth would not be destroyed by water, again. We have rainbows to remind us, unless you believe Scientiphick envidence that there never was a great flood during the last great Global Warming, caused by Cavemen with uncontrolled fires, hot climates with lots of green growing things eaten by large mammals that never returned after Cavemen started hunting with dogs and Clovis pointed spear tips. All always gored aside, the water thing still haunts me.

So how about this great Jupiter size drop of water, all H2O, sailing through space and striking the Moon and then Earth and why not? Maybe intelligent alien life was sending it to irrigate Mars and they missed by a bundle of miles and eons of time. It reads better than that old Y2K fear.

Well, all else being equal - high gasoline prices, food prices and taxes - I am all for washing it away to get down to the good stuff.

As I read the 2nd Amendment....

I read that Senator McCain has leadership problems, his Secret Service detail is in charge, and as I read the 2nd Amendment (wildly looking for my copy on my bookcase) A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the People to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed. So, it isn't the Secret Service that makes America strong and free - but the People with their RIGHTS intact.

Not only do I seem to have problems with current Republican Party goals, Democratic Party goofy 'good grief!' goals and the three primary candidates for the office of the President, but the Secret Service has decided that my introduction of a working firearm into the area of this important person will topple the country. They even want military firearms disabled when the President is around troops, sigh. Removing the bolt carrier groups? This is the group without enough to do for the President and family, but expanding to cover those not running. All a little bit better than me and thee, aren't they?

Yesterday I received my fourth way to carry concealed without distracting the public that is in harmony with the Universe. I like it best, although when I think about all the weapons carrying I did when I was truly dangerous - Open Carry really works, but I will always be a blue jeaned 'throw it into the back pocket' kind of guy. I also remain the guy that will carry only when I think I might have reason to need a firearm; then I am the guy (in my mind, not tested in public yet) that will go towards the sound of Guns and Distress.

Once upon a time...

I was an important man, and people listened to me and I figured I could lead men into combat, I was a First Sergeant in the 82nd Airborne. I learned some truths there - dummy cords attaching rifles to load bearing equipment save lots of rifles from watery graves in large Panama lakes, compasses on wrists prevent circling around lost in jungles, and I was most known for the only NCO that could get the paratroopers to quit cutting across the grass making paths. That I could count on my men to stick with me when I was wrong, that big hulking paratroopers could be felled by a tiny stinging wasp in seconds and needed immediate injections. That wearing snowshoes makes pulling sleds easier over snow. I didn't know how to forgive the paratrooper that refused to jump when I was Jumpmaster and that when I left the firing battery I would be replaced - maybe not the same as I had been, but replaced. Truths to base the remainder of my life upon.

UPDATE! Seems the 'be replaced' seemed to touch people, and I was dwelling on my truths, so from recent email about that time and persons:

Hello Sergeant Major Dungey,

Not to sure if you will remember me, but I served under you when you were the First Sergeant of C 1/319th. I was in the FIST platoon. You probably recieve these types of emails often, however I thought it was important for you to know what an impact you, and your leadership, had on me. For the past twenty-odd years I have used the leadership skills I learned from you in my teaching career (I became a teacher after I left the Army). I am currently taking classes from Seattle Pacific University in their Principal Certification Program and it is amazing how many times I reference you, as opposed to the text book, on how an individual should lead.

So...although you were my First Sergeant for only a few short years...its impact has lasted a lifetime. Warmest Regards,

I have always been of the opinion that Paratroopers have it easier in combat because they have already met fear and tamed it, don't ask them for much on maitenance programs but courage abounds. No, I don't get lots of this kind of mail often, but am always glad to know that former paratroopers are doing well, and remember 'once upon a time'.

Gentlefolks, start your engines....

Looking for a reason to be alive and participate in Monday I find this, I also go and find

miltiary fiction geek out

and I don't play but I like having my mind tickled and I wonder why Matt Helm wasn't mentioned in the American group, but then I didn't notice Mike Hammer either. I can't have it all can I? I am so old. At church a beautiful young girl asked how I was, I answered I am just fine, I have finished High School and am waiting to graduate from life. Really, I do know what True Love is about, know what my personal goals are in life, how to get them, what is important, what is just in the way and needs to be ignored. I stopped after 'finished High School', she sighed and I didn't want her eyes to glaze over, she is so very nice to talk to an old guy and I had a motorcycle to ride on home.

I did talk to my mother yesterday, flurried emails with one sister, ducked the other sister and hope my brother has a good motorcycle trip (Denver to West Virginia) to visit Mom later this month, even talked a little with my son and daughter-in-law. But then nothing I am doing is critical, note worthy nor going to make me a better man. I read about a woman wondering why she couldn't find a decent boyfriend - and I figure it is the choices she makes. There is one decent man, eligible to become a boyfriend out there somewhere, I have faith and the certainty that variation of humanity rules. Oh, as I continue to withdraw from polite society and personal relationships - I did have a lovely time with my wife and the weekend and what I could do with her and for her, and that part of the weekend seems like went forever the little irritants were on another planet. I guess I am ready for Monday now. Y'all have a good one!

Mother's Day ... or really passing (or paying) forward

My wife came from a strong family, father and mother, one brother, four sisters, all married and had families and have done okay - or well. I am sure success isn't measured in how many times one finds themselves in the news or hiding under their jacket as they go into the courtroom or jailhouse for testimony or treatment. It also doesn't seem to be in how many gold coins one wins or piles up in cool dusty caverns for Tom and Huck to find.

There was a Latte stand that had one of my co-workers stumped, the woman in the car in front of her had paid for her Latte. Random act of kindness and paying forward - Oprah just loves those people, and her audience will gush when she points it out and it rolls along so well. I think we have been watching 'Paying forward' during the entire history of humanity, from the farmer planting the last of his corn to bring the next crop even while his children are eating meager dried jerky and berries from last year, to the parents that carefully watch and encourage adventure and some success and failures in their children - knowing that perfection doesn't teach much about real life. As modern world connects us electronically and the government and media make us fear all the Strangers, the little random acts of kindness become significant - they are outside the norm, for today's society at least.

My wife finally found the perfect job, child care and it absorbs the 'grandmothering energy' that she is blessed with. Part-time, four hour days five days a week, and with infants and pre-toddlers. When I was in the third grade, I thought it was terrible that Soviet children had to be put in giant nurseries while their mothers slaved for the great god of Communist equality and efficiency. I liked my mother at home waiting for my return with my siblings. Ah, today's American mothers are slaving away for the lesser god of Consumerism 'one up on ya' and waste. I am taller now than then, too. Now I only pity the lost Romanian childhoods, and those children in care of the heartless government programs and employees that are only there for the paycheck and the social time with their co-workers. Mothers, grandmothers and those teachers and tender touching child care workers are all paying forward and giving generously to the next generations. And they only do it for the smile, the riveted look of wonder, for the laugh as tickled for the joy in those first steps, first words and growing strength and intelligence of the young pups. Hug them well and often, both the children and the women in motherhoods - they pay forward and I am only a guy in awe

Win some and don't dwell on the others...

I am fascinated by experts, especially since I won't become one, the ones on television news I discount completely - they are there to sell snake oil medicine and make rich folks richer. But on the blogs and the internet I have watched some wonderful minds make my knowledge and truth so much besser. Anyway, I will continue to dwell a bit too much in cyberspace.

I left for work early, to go to Galloping Gerties, Exit 122 off I-5, 15417 Union Ave SW,
Lakewood, WA. I wanted to meet and see the Patriot Guard Riders, and did so. Nice bunch of folks, on very nice Harley-Davidsons. They were going to spend the day with soldiers practicing safe motorcycling. It is Motorcycle Safety Month, you did know that didn't you? Community spirit, and motorcycling is fun when done at speed safely. I left them, as more arrived, crowds make me skittish, wary, and paranoid - leftover mental social problems. I don't fit in well, but am often present just there in the background watching, close but untouchable.

Work went mostly well, one of my new workers slept in an hour after lunch but did return, I thought he had quit on his day two - I backed the training pressure off a bit since it was Friday and I do want the two new guys to come to work on Monday.

In the prison it seems like the rules are from Junior High School, one of them is 'snitching', one just doesn't 'snitch' on another inmate for crimes and conduct. So I never expect names of thieves and thugs to be brought to my attention, the crew has to live within the rules of the Department of Corrections and the Rule of The Stupid Thugs and their Criminal Controllers. Two sets of guidelines and you may guess which one you would pay attention to most - the Department of Corrections can only do so much to you, the Thugs have a world of pain at their fingertips.

Anyway, I must be trusted (which I like to think everyone should trust me, as far as they can throw me anyway). Today I found out who from the departing crew seems to have enriched himself with the new CDs, and he left a trail on the computer but was also turned into me for the cops (Corrections Officers) to do a cell search and get the CDs back. Ah, I did notify the Unit floor officer, and told him what I was looking for to be returned. I don't expect they will find the CDs, I hope they do, but I like being able to tug on this inmate's chain - especially as he is getting out in two weeks to rejoin civil society - and I won't tell you his name, he could become a better person in those two weeks and live like a saint for the remainder of his life. I pray for miracles constantly, and am often amazed when I see them. An inmate turning in this petty thief is almost a miracle - but then they look at me as not really part of the cops, they look at the CD collection as improvement in their living and returning to normal life, and figure that they can't live by Junior High rules their whole life. If the CDs are found and returned it will be a three pointer, but I have no trouble taking the two points for the inmate that will work with me to make the library the best place on the island.

great day !

Sure I get to ride my trusty Triumph to work and home, which makes every day a better one, but that wasn't putting a smile on my face. I was happy because I have two new library crew to train and play with. Oh, I don't really play with them, but since they cause me so much amusement as they learn that real work happens in the library, and routines are designed to prevent mistakes and errors - one could say I am playing. First worker showed up, and I get him to understand the rules that will get him fired for breaking them. An Expectations List from our leadership above, and it does a fine job of making it clear what the clerk can't do, and how important customer service is. Then I showed him a sample time sheet, and that he would be making forty-two cents an hour, six to seven hour days if all goes well. Then I get him started on shelving, and finding out that he doesn't know enough, but I am there for training and he listens and works it out. Then I go looking, on the telephone, for his partner - the other new guy. He is found asleep in his rack, and comes to work without his glasses, which means he can't read and that will slow him down all morning. Although my own work is slowed by my training the new guys, I am still happy that they are here, the current crew is accepting of them and their decided shortcoming in performance are exceeded by their willingness to learn and ask questions. I even have accelerated putting them on the circulation station, to give them nightmares tonight. I will repeat tomorrow because the tough circulation days are Monday and Tuesday with little recovery time between patrons. And although I love to think I am a fine trainer - we are missing one book and one music cassette already - they either got checked out improperly, or put where they don't belong. Which is a kind of normal in new clerks that seem to think I will take their heads off if they make me upset - do I look like the Queen of Hearts?

Strange day and staff is appreciated...

This week has Department of Corrections appreciating staff, got a fortune cookie on Tuesday, mine didn't have the big prize but I liked the motivational message and one fortune cookie isn't bad. They honored the staff with food for two days - I stayed with my sandwiches and apples. The new corridor officer in training got my library shut down for an hour, then I had only one inmate worker left and we shut down for the last hour and worked in clean up. The Callout has two inmates coming to start working and that will be very good.

The large Drug bust of the college students must have gotten the Corrections Officers busy, there was a bust of Upper A unit, and after they emptied it and searched, they started selecting, packing out and removing the members of the ring exposed. All afternoon they marched individuals to the F-unit for further investigation and such things authorized by the Justice Department. We have three mail bins of books for F-unit that couldn't be delivered yesterday, we will deliver them today.

After work I stopped and got my Dragon Case for my boot knife, and tested wearing it at home while working and stuff. I like it and it is right to hand, although I am sure I will use my Leatherman Wave more often than the boot knife at my back. I wore my compact pistol the other day and was impressed with how little I noticed it. Which is where one should always hope to be, the state of mind that isn't minding. Just be aware of what is happening and your portion of the World's events - may it always be very small and happily contented.

Just a guy in awe of Mother's and their days...

I have (for the umpteenth time since my son was born) seen the truly great thing about being a mother. Today Hayden rode his bike without training wheels! He didn't just ride it; he braked, he stood up to pedal, he took his feet off the pedals to coast. We've known he was ready; he's been riding the pocket rocket (a tiny 2-wheeled, battery-powered motorcycle) with no feet for about 6 months, but as soon as we put him on something bigger he got scared. Then last night I caught him riding the neighbor's bike across the grass, so I decided to take the training wheels off his old bike that was lower to the ground. Sure enough, he took off with no starting/stopping, hesitation, or any problems. I'm so proud--I look at pictures of when he was born and wonder, who would have thought this little baby would ride a big-boy bike one day? My little man, moments like this make everything worth it.

Sherry

 For Mother's Day
Do we woman all want to be mothers? No, many decide they don't want to, their
carerr is too important, they know it would be lots of work, and on and on. And
I wonder, with my inward heart, why? I always wanted children, life without at
least one child would be very empty, unless God decided we would not have
children. But even then I would have adopted. One of my grandsons is adopted,
and more loved he couldn't be! So why do some people think a world without
children would be better. I hear that in Los Angeles there are apartment houses
not allowing any children. How incredibly sad! In this nursing home I'm in right
now, there is sheer joy when a child comes in, be them children of the staff or
someone's great grandchild; it always makes us happy to see another little one,
a gift of God, a child of God!
   Melba Dungey                       May 5, 2008

Sherry is a neice, and Melba is my mother - doesn't that make me a very lucky man? Well, I think I am blest.

Sunday shines

I weigh 204.5 pounds today, my blood pressure is 115/68 or 119/73 with a consistant heart rate of 37 beats per minute sitting down. I am reading Cinderella Man, by Jeremy Schaap, better than the movie, which I have and love - because it speaks to the people, the country and the times of the events. Best History lesson on America of the period.

I started blogging because the Institutional Library System was going to build a blog for the public and I was supposed to be one of the blog writers, and so I started Just the Library Keeper and I wrote and posted and posted. Then I told my family and friends about it and sent them links to check it out. Some looked but never returned, but I kept churning out words and didn't have to bother the family any longer. Then I decided to stop worrying about the calendar and posting my measurements and exercises on it, I built another blog Physical Fitness for Foold so I can see what I thought when, what I weighed and measured, and my general health and a bit of what was happening. Just think of all the trees I have saved by not sending letters, think of all the cyberspace left for important commercial announcements about Viagra or variations of get me rich schemes. Hit that DELETE key, folks.

Well, the Institutional Library Services blog site will be closely monitored for political correctness and comment, of course the ones monitoring it don't want to write it, they just want to control it and the public image. I find my blogs helpful, I get to write and whine and wonder, I have my favorite places to check for thoughts from other folks - some close to my thoughts but the most interesting are from people doing their lives well, writing it, and I get to peek and become a lurker - although when I feel important and wise and sharing I do drop a note, most not too worthy. It would depend on the subject I am commenting on. There are people that visit my site and drop comments or just read, I am not counting visits nor comments and more than anything I write because I want to say something and that will be enough.

My sister wrote a wonderful letter, and sent it email, and I have her last two from before but then I wonder if she or her husband check my blog to see how I am. Probably not, my teaching sister said she liked the blog idea and thought she could build one, but then she is very busy and I don't think she got around to it, she didn't say she had - and she still writes letters. My brother is doing stuff in Denver, with music and sound, and supporting the current Presidential Primary conflict (oops, it is only a contest not a conflict).

Well, I do need to get started on this Sunday, Communion Sunday in my chuch, working in the choir (can't really sing, so work at it), and riding my motorcycle to the girl friends (like I ever had any - I am just out for the ride without rain). I do have a round Mount Rainier ride on 14 June with some sunshine riders from DOC, has a barbeque and poker run with it. No, I don't have any idea what to do with a poker run, nor the social barbeque - but I want to ride around Mount Rainier. Seems sometimes like I don't get out enough. This Friday, the 9th, the 191st Infantry Brigade from Fort Lewis has a motorcycle safety ride, two hundred and fifty miles in six hours, they asked the Patriot Guard Riders for assistance and I don't feel 9120 miles on my Triumph enough to make me a mentor, but I would like to try and keep up with those young folks and have a great Friday. I ought to for my Community Service, not given for breaking the peace or a law but just because I can relate and community service shouldn't be thought of as a punishment but an honor. That is the problem with push ups, used punishment too often.

Well, my wife has a birthday tomorrow, so I had best figure out how to help celebrate it - kiss and a hug minimum, jello birthday cake? I should be so much better when I grow up. She is looking so beautiful this morning, as we breakfast together - twas my prep.

Good Help hard to find, or I am a harsh taskmaster

Of the last four inmate workers I have hired, only one remains. The very educated and well read and very eloquent man decided that I had shorted him for two months on his hours and that he couldn't physically do the work since he had some joint problems he needed medical help for. One decided that he could steal, felt guilty and confessed, returned what he had stolen and is now in "the HOLE" for something else. The last one of the missing three is on room restriction (stays in room except for meals and work) and decided that he didn't need to come to work yesterday. So just two inmate clerks and I manned the library and circulated an extra hundred items during the afternoon above what four of them and I had done the day before.

Until I have truly two terminations I cannot hire two new workers, so we will struggle along but will be open and circulating and answering questions. I wonder if employment is so fragile on the outside, is it a constant hiring process - when I think of work I think that the manager at the local grocery, the clerk at checkout have been there forever, but then a whole group of supporting workers seem to be in constant flux. We did go to drop off hot trash and dirty rags, picking up a bundle of clean rags and dust mop heads. The inmates that frequent the library love to call to us and say hello from where they are working as we pass by; everyone strives to be noticed, feel friendly and be seen at 'their' work. The leather hobby guy brought my belt back and the Dragon design he had made for me - very nice work. Since it was a custom job he learned many things while he created it twice to get it right. Some of the inmates take real pride in what they do well. One of the older workers long ago told me that he could get a crew to clean out my home in less than two hours - just get them off the island - they would take care of the truck and such as they did the job. Not really well rehabilitated, but proud of their work skills in criminal enterprise... he is still a great worker, just not in the library now.

I stopped by for a look...

McCann Industries makes a Puffin Magnum, that fine looking knife in the picture, and I saw that they were just down the road from me and I went looking for them. Look, McCann Guns is right beside the church I frequent. This is cool, and tells me that for fourteen years I just don't pay attention.

I go inside and get to handle and examine at three fine knives, and prove I am neither an expert, impressive nor more than the old man with a tie that I see in the mirror. Words that stuck with me were "That is cutlery not a pry bar.""I cut down the traffic by only working on NRA members." "Made in America costs, but the quality." "If you are worried about slippery handles put skateboarding tape on it." The last made me laugh, my son and his grip tape from his skateboarding would love to know that it is recommended for improving knife retention in wet sticky situations.

Well, I left promising to visit another day, I have a fighting carry knife I would like made - don't need one but gosh the economy is going to crash if I don't buy something American that is really worthy. I liked the above knife for general purpose camp and kitchen - but I do lust after the Fighter. The truth about me is that I can lust after long legged redheads but never do more than wish I were braver and would talk to them - I know I am over my limit on fighting knives now. But if I were a younger person that needed a fighting knife this is the place I would check into first. I was amazed that he doesn't get more work from Fort Lewis, but if I didn't know he was there for fourteen years who else would either. And contrary to some thoughts, I don't use knives as pry bars, ever.