Conversations with my self... the guy I hardly know...

I wake early, dreams of running roads in the military (do they still do that?) individuals, pairs, groups, clumps and platoon to brigade formations running in the morning calling the Sun up, getting the sweat out of the alcohol before the shower will take the stink of Strawberry Hill away. Loved that part of the Army, my life was five mile minimums for so long. I have returned to road work, the foot feels fine the weather is almost perfect and my body protests weakly but that has to do with overcoming the Gravity of the LazyBoy recliner and the Winter fat. I am not going to get seriously into shape - no racing, competitions, Mister Hardbody calls, nope, I am an old man and being able to move is all I want now. You all know that walking thirty miles a day, or jogging with the dogs on the hunt for twenty to twenty-five miles is the base humans were designed for, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year until your teeth were ground down or fell out or competing tribes of other peoples attacked and ate you if you weren't better armed or aggressive. Someone out there thinks we should have talked about it, but there are only so many women around to take and convert to our way.

This is the birthday of several people and the Earth, I guess. Happy Birthday, Wyatt! Melissa! I have only awe of a planet that would put up with me and the rest of Humankind, which aren't too much (kind). Wyatt provides my look at beautiful women that I would never be brave enough to talk to (my favorite war story is when the Miss America contestants were flown into our firebase, and we had to put shirts on, and they were so nice and friendly and I couldn't say one word - not even thanks for being here and being you - nothing, I was so unworthy). Melissa is another Library Keeper, and she called for some of my knowledge yesterday, she didn't get much but not her fault. I found out that she has been to a Boomershoot in her past -- now that makes two library women that are not within their stereotype, the world has more surprises if I just pay attention.

I didn't ride my motorcycle while I was Appleseeding, but the last two days have been right in the perfect and don't miss the opportunity zone (so I haven't), I keep wondering if anyone that doesn't ride a motorcycle understands when I wiggle the bike that it is a reflection of the great fool grin hiding under my face shield? I pick up and load out the Caravan and depart for Idaho today - so my blogging will slow to a stop, I don't have a portable PC which is one step I might make to being electronically leashed, but being frugal (or just plain cheap, take your pick) I travel light. I do have to work on my community service today, the yard must be attacked, clipped, edged and groomed. So I have things to check off my list so the world according to Earl will be as good as he can make it. I tried to clean up the McNeil Island Library yesterday, I had started my day with a little briefing for four visiting ladies, about the library and what we offered the inmate patrons in materials and services, then worked the day through with my three almost four man crew, we haven't seen the last hired since they took him off for mental evaluation. As I am going to Boomershoot I worried about the library, but the Program Manager and my Librarian Supervisor are covering the three days, so all services will remain - and some will be done so much better than I could ever manage. I will get questions about why some things are the way they are, I will get some kind of mention of that isn't the way something is supposed to be done (I miss a lot of memos), but I am always glad if they still let me have the job when I return with all my faults found. My crew has been admonished to report to work on movements not earlier, and I told them that I expect them to report to work and to do the best they can in the library and working with the ladies (they keep saying they want more time in the yard but they aren't serious). They will reveal secrets about their versions of the library operations that I don't even know, and since they are a more mature crew I likely won't hear about how I appear to them from my supervisors when I return. I do know that they will tell me everything that the ladies do that is better than I (okay with that) and all that the ladies didn't do while I was gone that I would have (I do keep explaining that the supervisors still have their own jobs to do at the same time they are keeping the library open - there isn't any slack in our operating staff, everyone has to do more than the Governor and government pays for).

And just to wrap this up, those wonderful women that visited my firebase in Vietnam, had more Field Grade support in cool uniforms with Black Ops guns and air coverage than the poor under strength Infantry platoon that came out of the bush to secure our base while we packed up and departed. I was very proud to lend our shower to the Grunts and show them how to heat the water in the fuel barrel, so they could have a hot one. Would have done it for the ladies but they were flown back to the civilized section of the warzone, with airconditioned trailers, hot water and hot meals. Still thanks for coming by, it is good to remember what we were fighting for.