You know, the LIBRARY KEEPER....

Seems I got way off track and left the library guy behind in the dust, but I have just finished the second day of work in November and it was a great day. Cool to cold and clear so I burst out of the house and jog around forty minutes and come back to my breakfast, then I prepare to face the world as mild mannered Earl and get my tie tied right and put a scarf over it and the leather jacket on top of that - I am going to ride the Trusty Triumph to work, that was what I was born for... yes, I did put out the garbage, and I waved at the garbage pickup man as I jogged by him, but I was born to ride the Triumph, it is a fine ride going deeper and recovering smoothly and laughing in joy. I walk down to the dock, passed by a prisoner mobility transport team, one of my patrons has been out to see a specialist.

As I walk into the Corridor I see one of the inmate bakers with a big tray of cheese cake pieces heading out to feed the audit team I think. As I get closer he signs to me and asks me to take the piece closest to me, so looking at the lady escorting him with the money box - and she is nodding her head in agreement -- I take a piece of the best looking cake I have seen. And hurry off to eat it in the workroom before I move the mail, and it is good, all over my fingers but I will lick them off, but it is good. And I hear knocking on the library door, it is the Associate Superintendent and all the audit team, waiting for me to open up so they can look.

I open, invite them in, and give them my best briefing of how wonderful I am and how important the library is to the inmates and the mission of education and all our capabilities. Ask if there are questions, get none and congratulate myself in public on another fine briefing. They leave to get their lunch and a piece of that cheese cake that I return to before taking the mail down. Mail back up and l open a letter from a book shop in Seattle:

To Earl Dungey: Nov 1, 2009

A former inmate, who worked in your library, came into my
bookstore and spent $50 on SF and a few other things. He said
he was sending the books to you (I did not catch his name,
sorry). He made me think, a bit, of you and your needs. He
was very pleasant. -- tallish, dark hair, a bit of a gut, has a four
year old daughter...
He made me want to help out, when he said you might be
able to take hardbacks....I asked for your address.

Can you take hardbacks? I get a lot of surplus hardbacks.
(Can you provide a tax exempt number for me, too? This is
not absolutely necessary, but I thought I would ask, anyway.)

I can provide mysteries easily, and thrillers, in hardback,
but can also provide lots of other kinds of books. Even
hardback SF Books. I have a fairly large store, with lots of
surplus generated -- books I don't want to take in are often left
behind. So, this includes nonfiction of all types. Send me a
letter back, with your needs, and I will be glad to help out.
Can do a limited number of specific titles; some bestsellers
begin to pile up, for example, and I can send those, too.
Also, of course, if you want to buy specific titles for your
library, would be happy to oblige. Give you a good price!
This is my email, storeindistrict@yahoo.com, but I sometimes
miss the emails; send it again if I don't respond.

Sincerely,

Nice Lady in
Seattle WA 981??

I sent an email off to the other Library Keepers and our leaders, since answering this letter with more than a thank you is echelons above my capacity - although I do seem to be the person so many of my former workers want to contact about things and donations do seem to show up from inmates, family, interested folks and others. Still this letter needs answered by someone higher than a lowly library keeper. I was very happy to receive it, and only change the addresses and real name to protect the nice lady and paste the intent all over my blog.

My supervisor was chosen as the Employee of the Quarter, and written up very nicely, and as another of the staff said "it was about time the two of you were recognized for your work". No, there aren't two of her - just does twice as much as she should have to, make all those dwindling budget dollars last a little longer... I suggested to our party girl, that this was a perfect reason for a Winter Holiday party - she is working on it.

Well, we were open and the books started moving, legally and otherwise, the alarm at the gate kept going off - the new guys making sure they had something for themselves.

I got two calls, and I answered in my most professional voice (I am wearing a tie, ya know?) "Washington State Library branch at McNeil Island Corrections Center, Earl speaking, may I help you?" or something very close... and on the other end is "I'm ____________ from Tower Three, and I wanted to apologize about what I called you." I hadn't know that was tower three, but if I remembered which was tower four (it has the armory) I could have figured it out. Anyway, we had a good talk about that incident and a little better understanding of who each of us were, and how we aren't going to be mistaken for fools in the future. She made sure it was clear that no one was making her apologize, and I made it clear that I didn't want an apology, I just wanted what was not normal conduct looked at and fixed. She had been sure I was mocking her, and I was sure I wasn't doing anything but being completely out of touch with what was supposed to be happening. She also didn't know until this week that I had been upset at being outed as a jackass. I lived through it but....

The second call was from another Library Keeper that had attended a meeting for communications, her interest being the Institutional Library Services blog. Her concern was that a portion of the new rules for social networking, individual personal blogs which mentioned the bloggers working with the Office of the Secretary of State must comply with the new rules. Since I often make dark mention of stupidity, foolishness, or downright mean conduct on my blog I might not be looked at favorably. I calmed her fears a bit, the only mention of risk to my job was for working on State Owned Equipment and this is my machine, and the intent was to keep the twittering for political reasons to a minimum... and I don't tweet, twitter nor twitch. I have no idea what to do on Facebook, and we cannot access any of the social networks at work. So I won't worry about my blogging, I can bore a few folks some of the time, I can bore lots of the folks lots of the time, and then once in a bit, I can be entertaining... I do notice that once the independent bloggers are corralled and the safe guards and laws laid down - the joy of blogging is gone, and the input for posting good stuff about our libraries dries completely up. But we aren't here to be happy, are we?

I ride the Trusty Triumph home to a fine meal, coffee and my only opportunity to tell my mother what happened today at work. The full moon shining down on me was a nice touch with the Autumn chill, but it has been such a good day I didn't want to ruin it. Thanks, Lord, and all those that participated to make it possible.

HOT, it is so hot today...

As I woke from my nap on the ferry going to work, I saw Mount Rainier shining with snow covered slopes reflecting the bright sunlight. So I thought about you, wanted to call you, send you an email, knock on your door and take you up on my motorcycle for a run up the mountain. This day was made for such lovely foolishness.

I didn't get your attention, you didn't ride with me, and I was one of the hard working, law abiding, responsible tax paying citizens - I went to work, finished the addition of the new purchases, got the crew organized for the changes in their jobs for next week, started on the list of recommended purchases for the new budget, and helped some people find information they had to have - I was visited by one Corrections Lieutenant, and then the weekly Friday staff visitor/inspector team - which I hold is a very good way for the lone staff working only with inmates to feel a part of the institution is around and in contact.

Finally, it was time to head back to real life, where I don't have to watch the clock, check email for requests and answer a telephone or two. Home where I will be safe. And I get to ride the Trusty Triumph to get there, one stop at Office Depot for some photopaper for the printer, my wife wants better pictures to send to her family of Keegan and his parents, okay. It is a good day for the motorcycles, one chopper is waiting beside me at a light and he comments on my bike (so much lighter than his) but it is my ride so he doesn't dis it because it isn't a Harley...

After picking up the photopaper, into the backpack, and back on the road being so cool as I ride. I notice at one light a silver CTS behind me, looks kind of like my wife's, but the license plate number isn't right, but the lady does have silver white hair. It couldn't be my wife, unless she stopped at her friend's for a haircut, or the market for Korean food. The light changes and I roar off, okay it is a meeker meow not a real roar, but I am across the intersection and switching into the next turn lane, and the lady is keeping up with me. For a couple more miles that car is stalking me, too much traffic for a real getaway, but I finally take one turn she doesn't and I am looking forward to the smooth S-curve that I would pay for to do twice (and you know how cheap I am). Finally, I am home, and put the motorcycle away in the garage. It was my wife, and she only recognized me because of my bent right turn signal and the airborne wings. I must have really looked cool, so not Earl.

Another day for the MOTORCYCLE!

And I rode it to work, and I danced it and flew it back home after - one shouldn't have a love affair with artwork built of metal and plastic fueled by mid-grade gasoline - but I have fallen from my ideal so I laugh and smile and get second looks from hot young women in SUVs with cellphones (wondering what she is looking at). Lots of real motorcycles out today, and we roar (or they do, I am going gently) but I am happy, yes I am, and just think --- the government did nothing to stimulate me, how does that happen?

Okay, Government Health Care...

My wife is qualified for Medicare - she and I and all of my working relations and most of the remainder of the United States of America pay a tax based on our income for this service, every paycheck, and have ever since Medicare was passed into law in the 1960's under President Johnson. It was to become a single payer health insurance for the aged (65+).

But her doctor's office has trouble getting Medicare to pay for my wife's treatment, they say there are other insurers that aren't paying FIRST! So they (the single payer government agency) doesn't pay. And for some reason the patient is the one that must make everything correct - not the doctor's office (do you have any idea of how large his staff is?), not the Medicare Agency (do you know how much they cost daily?). So the patient, who must be sick, must correct all the stuff because there isn't enough tax money and insurance premium around to push paperwork properly.

So, you call the 1-800-633-4227 number to get help and assistance - and receive a computer answering device of umpteen million dollars of stupidity. It's second sentence tells one to push two if you want to speak in Spanish (Chinese, French, Hindi and some others have greater population of speakers but not under Medicare?) of course it spoke that in Spanish. Why are they female voices, discriminating or thinking I won't swear at a female machine? Go through the selections and then choose to wait for a hovering in the background human being (doesn't the government know there is an employment crisis out there, hire some help!). No, I don't swear and especially against really stupid computers, but my blood pressure rises and that will kill me and cause more problems.

I did get help, human, female, and she is sending more paperwork my way since my wife expects me to be up on the front against the evil overlords, gangsters and rampant mice, moles and rat populations. The government wants me to be an unpaid agent for my wife in her Medicare issues. What is the world going to do when I am gone?

We did agree that my Health Insurance with my Employer (the State of Washington - still solvent here, California) is a primary payer and for some reason (subcontracting?) what it is called on my cards, Uniform Medical Plan, is known to Medicare as Harrington (the things I don't know), and I was to make sure (like I am an agent for making Medicare's billing properly) that the Doctor's office listed all payments made before asking Medicare for their payment.

Now, I am getting old, and ugly as it seems I will have to participate in a couple of years as my own agent and my wife's --- there is no chance that Universal Medical from the federal government will get my support - they will probably have to ENSLAVE me somehow. Or is that what they have already done, we's working for d'Man!

Okay, I don't seem to be shooting this month...

So after a fine church service and coffee with my friend, and sharing cake that I bought from the ladies of the church with him and Ralph, I hop on my Trusty Triumph to zoom off into the beautiful Sunday afternoon. Top off the tank, reset my mileage counter and head off for adventure, looking for love in all the wrong places? No, it is all about the ride, folks, the twisting roads and the deep leans, and yes, I did scrape my boot heel on Waller road before the railroad crossing - nice to go so deep and come up so well. I did stop to warm up and talk and find smiles.

Harley-Davidson has been advertising going down and getting a test ride on anything new on the floor, so I did. Yes, I know that I could have done that in Hawai'i and still done it again today, but I was sure I might never come back if I rode in Hawai'i. Today my Trusty Triumph would keep me grounded. So I really stopped there twice, the second time was after a long ride and much satisfaction, I was ready to top a perfect afternoon off and I actually talked to the salesman. It was easy, so I was looking at things I could afford if I won the Lotto (need to buy that winning ticket!), and they had an 883 in my price range (cheaper than the Trusty Triumph) but it was Spring Clearance Sales on many models, the size seemed right but the seat was only painted on - no long trips on that machine - only to the corner grocery and bar. I moved to the Dyna, pretty stripped, lots of shine and lots of engine and six speeds (slow start, faster, faster, faster, faster and fastest longer). I posed for a picture on it with the Sunshine upon the balding pate (?), but that could be a sign of God's favor? or not.



They had a copy of my license (Statewide background check? for the insurance, fool!) and I signed a waiver holding the Dealership and H-D free from my heirs and lawyers for my certain demise. They wheeled the motorcycle out, explained some things about the set up, and allowed me to circle the buildings in the parking lot and then out on the road to run up and down the gears, practice braking and leaning and rolling on that throttle - even got two exits worth of I-5 (never noticed if there were other vehicles I was so engrossed in the machine's power). Nice ride even had some twisty turns to play with and then back to the dealership, for a survey and contact points to see if they can sell me that fine beast (some days I wish I were forty years younger and single - but then I realize I have it so much better than when I was twenty-one and only a sergeant in the Army with Vietnam waiting...

A very nice ride, a bit louder than I like in the pipes (the British are so civilized about noise), but lots of potential for happiness in that machine - it sure runs and rides better than that 1948 Flathead I had in 1966 through 1971. It was heavier backing up than my Trusty Triumph (pushing with only leg power) so I rode up the sidewalk ramp to turn it in.

Thanks, Destination Harley-Davidson of Tacoma, for a very nice point in my afternoon on the motorcycles. Nice ride, very. I rode away on my Trusty Triumph, and it still made my heart sing on the way home, that was when I got deep into the curve and dragged boot heel and rolled that throttle on and came up solid. We are really made for each other, or I fit what I ride well.

I did sit on a couple of Bones with the half-ape hangers, and they aren't bad but I would look really funny wearing my work tie and such on that bad a bike. But then I do look funny any way you see me. The picture of me outside in the shade has the Trusty Triumph waiting patiently above the handle bars of the Harley, and the photographer's girl friend waiting patiently for the picture to be over... patience is so good to find.

A sure sign of Spring sprung, shining Gold Wings!

I was formally invited to a motorcycle ride by the Gold Wing Road Riders Association, Tacoma Chapter WA-F (F Troop), spin the wheel and your destination comes up, don't like it spin again for another six bucks. I signed up to ride with the other riders from McNeil Island. We began and ended at Crazy Larry's behind the BI, you have to be a local to know about where that is.

I had had my breakfast gruel, cups of coffee and a rare doughnut at the registration, I had greased the chain and filled the tires up to pressure for the day, we stopped to top off on our way out of town. Our destination was Ocean Shores and mission to pick up one dated receipt with Ocean Shores on it, round trip should be over two hundred miles. Six motorcycles, eight riders and the highway was made for us. Only one State Highway patrol, zapping our lead riders with a speed gun, but we were only around seventy when they hit the brakes and slowed the rest of us down.

One bank of fog and cold to slam into and ride under, wondering where the warmth and Sun had wandered off to - so we stopped at Starbucks for the charm of the tall blond behind the counter and hot coffee to wrap one's hand around. You see why I never get the girl, I wrap my cold fingers around the hot coffee.

Back on the road and our bikes were never cooled, running well and hot we finally reached Ocean Shores, topped off and stopped for lunch at the Harbor Port or was it the Home Port, since one of our riders was under age we had to keep clear of the bars and dives. I was only looking for more hot coffee and a mushroom burger with cottage cheese on the side. Lunch done and back out and on the bikes, different route back and finish up on time, one rider picked up a staple to flatten his front tire, but it didn't go completely flat. I won a pair of tickets to a Sounders game on the 30th of May, so I don't need to check my Lotto tickets - only so much luck in one's life, but it is good to have some along with the blessings.

Safe ride, good times and Spring is really here. High temperature was sixty something, low started around forty-two, the great Northwest will never compete with Florida, California nor Hawaii, but then it wouldn't want to.

Movie Review...

Well, Sunday afternoon's motorcycle ride had me meeting my ideal romantic interest at about eighty miles an hour, she in black leather on a black Japanese street racer, and I on my Trusty Triumph, she was young, slender and brunette and so lucky I am so old and very married. She waved and I answered, she was going South and I was headed North and I won't tell you what road we were on, she might be a reader of this blog (yes, I still have illusions of greatness). She did fit my pattern of women I pay attention to, but then I went to the movies today with the woman that was and still is all I ever need to pay attention to...

The movie is Fighting and I thought it was a great date movie, but then my date is usually sleeping in SciFi movies or ones with long dialogue and Elizabethan English. My date was once one of the most dangerous women I knew, but only in the most gentle manner - not one to wield blades nor blast bullets but certainly a bone breaking bruiser of improper unlady-like refinement. The story-line is a fairy tale, nice views of the grime of New York where the tourists aren't going, where people are probably carrying illegal guns but that wasn't in the story too much. Anyway, she liked the movie and all the story and all the action and that is high recommendation from her side. I loved the movie, don't know any of the actors and could care less about the director and camera guy --- except this was the first movie that by the last fight had my body twitching in response to the fight on the screen - and when I caught myself on the second block and combination I started laughing at myself - but really appreciated how difficult that was to achieve - I am not the kind of guy that gets reacting to movies like I was there - I can read to that level but not just watch, until today. If you never fought upclose and terribly personal since school yard bullying - well, you might not get it, but this movie dragged me onto the floor better than most. So if you can catch the matinee, get a military or Senior discount and aren't out getting the fields planted while the sun shines and the rains hold off a bit - it is worth the look. I will be buying it in DVD one day, just that kind of a movie that I will want to see again.

if I wanted to see the West, just go East...

I finished the chores, took a shower and packed the Caravan, and hit the road, dropping off real mail for my mother. I notice after driving over the Cascades that I am entering the real West, they have horses, cattle, desert looking country where the Columbia Basin hasn't been lifted up to the big sprinkling systems. Barns are either falling apart slowly or now made of space age materials. I took the turn off at Vantage and thought how wonderfully empty the road is compared to I-90 to the north. I am passed by an Air Force couple and later I see them pulled off with emergency flashers on, so I stop and ask if they are okay, they are and I am gone again, they catch up miles and miles down the road.

I have finally seen Pullman, yes it was in the dark, no I didn't stop except for fuel, but that counts - now I know everything about Washington State University, I have been there. Might see it in the daylight going back. I am in Lewistown, Idaho, named for Jerry Lewis I think but then I remember Clarkston isn't named for the candy bar - is there still a Clark Bar out there. One of the problems with getting old is they keep improving all the stuff you liked the way it was. As I drove into the West I kept singing old Western Ballads and thinking about Cowboy movies that could have been made here. Why go to Spain for Italian Westerns, didn't Ford use some prime property in Monument Valley or some such?

Well, for entertainment to lull me to sleep I picked up some gun magazines to leaf through, knowing I am not really a gun blogger, but still working on that American Rifleman, one of the Nation of Rifleman (or so I pretend to be - such a joiner I am not), don't you wonder how Kim is? Hope all is well in his life.

You know you are ancient when they call you 'young man'

It is still Winter, groundhog time has two weeks yet and the Equinox is about forty-eight hours beyond that, and when factoring in the coal fired electrical plants and Iranian and North Korean nuclear developments (where ever they are going with that) it could be May before it is sane and safe to ride a motorcycle in the Great Northwest. The weather man has had rain and cool forecast for weeks and has been delivering, so when he said SNOW on Sunday I knew I had to quit listening to him. What happened to the blond bubbly babe that once did the weather, it never mattered what she said, just that she was watchable?

I had my motorcycle in fine form, and they were trying to frighten me into staying in the cage, eating gasoline and soaking in depressing vibes, but I wanted to fly. So looking at the satellite cloud maps I found my day to roll out the Trusty Triumph and did. Temperature is in the forties and going to fifties briefly and that is warm enough. So I rode to work and warmed back up by walking the two miles down to the dock, worked and bought a Ginger Cake from the inmate bakery, went back home on my bike, smiling. For those that ride I can't tell you what it does to one's day when it fits so well (you already know); for those sleeping at the wheel in the cage, listening to Rush Limbaugh or NPR, talking on their cellphone, texting their one and only (and clones), that don't know how and when to shift the gears, add fuel, or call it a day -- y'all will never know.

If your way to work and home isn't an adventure and you are missing everything that you would pay attention to if you were one with your bike going over the same route--well, if that describes you then you will love having the Obama Government Cage take you through life. You don't have to know when to shift gears - the machine will do that for you, it will tell you when it is time to change oil, when your tires are under-inflated, when you are going too fast and losing traction, and remember when all else fails and you are about to crash into that tree because you never did learn how to drive yourself very well - there is the mandatory seatbelt law, speed limits, drunk and drugged driving prohibitions and finally an airbag and crash tests that will keep you safe and alive until the rescue folks show up to cut you free.

Oh, and aside from the days it is too cold and too wet, I will smile on my motorcycle rides - and they are so much cheaper per mile than the Obama Cage rides y'all will be taking - but then I have almost two years and 14,000 miles on this motorcycle. God must love me.

Get the young into the woods, not virtually...

You know what derivatives are? They are a bet by a banker, and they don't call them bets because they are bankers and they don't gamble, although they take some risks - and then want bailed out when their risks go bad. My point is that urban living and technology have deprived the young of the romps in the woods, I don't think many are manning a trap line for money, I helped a friend on his when I could (pre-1964) - us city slickers didn't know how many muskrats were around to trap. modern man (Me?) seems locked into Super Market bargain shopping, and my father (as a boy) brought squirrels home for the pot, my grandfather introduced me to picking bird shot out of pheasants. So I thought about that Master Hunter program of Washington State, and translated it into German immediately, JaegerMeister. Which someone remembers is a fine alcoholic beverage. That isn't it and I was looking at it for the wrong reasons (those German dinner jackets are so cool), I just wanted another excuse to go shoot the best I could. They do want you to qualify with your hunting weapon. Well, I was oriented yesterday in Olympia and I am really happy with the program. So I am sending in my application today, and after church I went to try my hand at the rifle qualification and passed the off hand at fifty yards, but not the hundred yard one, yet. See, I am only in it for the challenges and am willing to work on passing all of the requirements. Then the fun stuff comes along, assisting in hunter educations, repairing elk fences, chasing strays (city folks keep moving to the woods), and wildlife projects . I am big on hunting, just not on being a blaze orange target during season and I really like the idea of helping young men learning how to shoot safely and hunt with care the land and its bounty.

Dreams and reality... could be important...

The American Hunters and Shooters Association sent me the bumper sticker.
It won't go on my vehicles, but I was glad that they delivered on their promise, which makes me wary of all their other agendas and promises unsaid.

I woke from a wonderful dream this morning, and I am fat, the dream was of the military I am old but not as presently useless, and competing gently with young skinny kids in running, swimming and shooting. When a young seven year old girl comes up and introduces herself and we talk, as soon as I hear her name I remember her mother's name and she leads me away to meet her mother, so we go and I do. Too much about dreams may be about the me that never was but could have been, but the child was beautiful and so was her mother and that works. I am reading Daniel in devotions, which means one shouldn't dismiss dreams some times.

In the basket of daydreams is going to the NRA convention in Phoenix, Arizona, on my Trusty Triumph - day and a half down, two days coming back against the wind and the fatigue (information from another motorcyclist that has done it the same way I would - yes, he is a current inmate). Also, a more reasonable ride, to Boomershoot 2009, I have to ask for media pass - I don't think I am ready for the Precision Rifle Clinic - another year perhaps. But I would like to ride, watch and take pictures, and meet those that are enjoying the weekend. Yeah, where is that application for someone to pay attention to my dreams? Oh, email Joe Huffman. Thanks.

Well, there are heroes and there are heroes.... and I

ain't quite the hero some would want me to be but:

I also want to take this opportunity to let you know how fantastic Earl is and how much we really appreciate having him here at MICC. He is a pleasure to work with, always dependable, keeps things organized and running smoothly in the library and he did an outstanding job in the library to prepare for and during our ACA audit.

Thank you for the comment about Earl! He has a real "heart" for the branch and the work that he does there. I am happy that ACA went well for you and that we are able to help in that effort.

What's keeping you up at night?

I have been trying to prepare my taxes, download TurboTax 2008, under Firefox (NOGO 3x) then back to Windows, it works! then since I care I write the incoming President about my good wishes for America and the 2nd Amendment. You did, too, didn't you?

Stepping out of character...

A wife with a car and a problem, so I had to dodge and weave and change stride, and take time off to take care of it. So the Library was closed Thursday afternoon, those normal Thursday patrons are going to believe that ever since Thanksgiving the POWERS that BE (ever referred to as 'they') have it in for them. I got to watch the coverage of the splash landing in the Hudson, and think about how cold it was there. I paid the tab, drove the vehicle around, testing it and listening to satellite radio - the Blues show - my kind of music. Stopped at the Tacoma Public Library to see what was new on their shelves and then onward to the home. Normal food for dinner, evening at home with Heinlein and too much coffee. Wake and prepare for today as my wife backs the car out of the garage I hear the Blues, not her kind of music. So, taking my cup of fresh morning coffee, I walk down the drive with her, stop her as she turns, wait until she rolls down the window and reach in and change back to her Korean station. She says 'thanks, you really love me' and I tell her she doesn't know how much. She responds with 'get some shoes on!' Yeah, marriage is like that.

It has been a great day!

Well, I rode my Trusty Triumph in forty-five degree weather, and loved its response and grace - even fat ol' men look cool on a well behaved motorcycle - wearing a tie and leather jacket. Okay, I really don't look that cool, but I feel that cool and powerful. I worked hard all day at the Western State Hospital Library, really felt I was helping, although I left piles of unfinished work for Kathleen tomorrow - it was just coming faster than I could learn and adjust in her arena. Then I received the magic email that said I could return to my island exile tomorrow, and joy jumped in my heart (one would wonder about that - but I have purpose, professional performance and pride in MY prison library). So I get to turn the keys, hit the switch and cycle back to heart, hearth and home. In time for dinner and then THE GUN NUTS show. It was a great show, and the chatroom even had some space for me, need to get quicker on the keyboard, but still so much fun. Now coffee and preparation for the world outside my computer, tomorrow comes too soon. Photo is 1971, FDC bunker, when I had a Harley waiting for me in West Virginia and a Lady in Korea... nothing I loved close - life is so good today, don't forget all our Service People everywhere no matter what.

It's official, Snow has closed the Office of Secretary of State

Notice in the email at work and one forwarded to my personal email, the weather has finally worn us out and we are going to bet on the side of safety in this area. Good call, safety should always be a factor in decision making.

So I am going to clean the snow off this morning, check the survivability of driving locally (may not go very far, but the piled snow needs off the car). And then decide the branch is closed if it isn't closed by my Program Manager or Principal Librarian before me.

Personal goals today, to inventory Christmas preparations - seems like that is supposed to happen this week and except for my wife's minor decorating efforts (table in dining room, table in kitchen) and the Christmas cards posted on the bookcase, one Santa Duck and one traditional Candy Cane on the fireplace mantel - I have been avoiding making the trip to bring out the memories from everywhere so long ago - that is what happens when I start putting the decorations up - years of other places, peoples and times when I was so young and the future so bright. If the Sun gets above the mountain it might be brighter here too - about eight this morning.

Who were Sunshine Patriots?

I went to learn to teach, and did. Then I taught and that was also great. After four days of intense Revolutionary War Veterans Association, I have that April 19, 1775 stuff cold. Speaking of which it was snowing and chilled and wet muddy ground to lay prone upon. So I leave you with one of the new Riflemen, earned on the last shoot of her day.

She became a citizen of the United States on Thursday, became the Rifleman on Sunday and the only thing I suggested to her was that she try the kneeling position, she locked it. One of her group was from South America a bit ago, said he could never have spent a day shooting in his original country - the weapons are controlled, but then the ballot box probably is, too.

Safety is always prime importance, so I never got to shoot just help, and we broke a bit early for ice storms approaching - thanks Governor Palin, I did get on the highway early enough to make it almost home. Then the Air Force rent-a-cops closed off my shortcut and I had to travel three times as far on iced roads. Didn't bother me as much as all those folks spinning out and into ditches. Home is a really great place to be, hope everyone makes it home safely, and thanks for having me at a really great event, but I am going into hibernation, until the flowers bloom.

how to feel great in just one day...

I have had a ball helping run the range and help future riflemen become part of tradition, another day tomorrow and I might expand on the experience but I am tired tonight - drove over two hours home and need sleep. Hot soup, hot shower and very warm greeting from my Mrs. and I start to fall asleep in the recliner in front of the television. A package from my sister awaits and she said to open it when it arrived, so I did and I was floored. My mother kept all my envelope art from the days I was sending it to her and my son off in Rota, Spain. The biggest shock is that so much of it is really worthy - not just a great idea but well executed little bits of art. Take my word for it, my scanner is trashed and I haven't picked a new one up yet, and she kept all the drawing that I did for promotions and decorating South Tacoma Branch storytelling or other stuff when I worked at the circulation desk part-time (twenty-five hours a week). Well, five in the morning is awful early, and for all the Facebook folks - I haven't found my instructions to add you to my friends and folks or join yours - the technology keeps changing and I have room for only so many passwords in my ancient memories of yesterday. Will get back when the world slows its spinning just a bit. There might be an opportunity to go to Alaska (motorcycle on ferryboat!) for a Summer Appleseed shoot - that would be cool.. hmm, mosquitoes? or is that Moosquitoes?

Okay, it isn't as great as I told you, but it is my story and I will tell it like I see it, have a bit of Christmas Spirit and enjoy - I am so far behind in this house, but by recycling good wishes I can catch up.

Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays, y'all!

Willie's Wednesday

I finished up in the library, left it ready to open on Friday, most of my work will be waiting on my return Monday. I am going off to learn, to study, to challenge myself and perhaps to shoot. Big storm coming in this weekend - a real tree toppler, power outages and terror. But I am off to do what I have to do. As I do, and y'all fix the financial crisis with the Congress and the coming Car Czar (why do we pick up Russian Imperialism? Weren't they overcome by Communists?). Anyway, the important story that I leave you with - isn't written by me but is so real to those that have been, Tale of Two Wars, from the Sandbox, of course. Take care out there, someone loves ya.

Where were you? you know when...

My wife presented me with a problem the other day, and I gave her an easy solution since I felt prepared and I went off to work, stopping at the Credit Union to report that someone had given me too much money, $546.43 in round figures on the 23rd of October, when they checked the deposit they found it entered at a branch I never use, and they would get back with me about it when they investigated. Now my inmates aren't yet redeemed and they always tell me to keep the money and don't report it - about eight years ago someone dropped a couple grand in an almost dead account and I turned it in, too. By Thursday they found the teller that hit a four instead of a one and the proper account for the deposit, and there is a happier customer somewhere. Although, having read No Country for Old Men, my token Hispanic offers to take the drugs and the money off my hands if I wander across some loose loot I feel obligated to remove from the environment, I told him I would be keeping the engraved forty-five. Just appreciating fine mechanics and art blended so well, and he will never be allowed to lawfully have a firearm - I will have to hold it for him.

Anyway, the week is wrapped up at work, I have a story to tell at the Antique Sandwich Company in Ruston tomorrow night with the other story tellers for our share of Tellebration. Wish you could be there but only because some of the other story tellers really are great, and the food is fun - the closest I get to working as a counter-culture fellow from the seventies...

Anyway, I came home to a wonderful pre-Thanksgiving week dinner, intending to do my shopping and such tomorrow, maybe shooting and cleaning up the church yard and many things, for tonight would be watching wrestling with my wife. I almost stopped to get some batteries I didn't have for a flash light but didn't - I am a recluse and if I didn't have a wife I would be a hermit. Anyway, after dinner and checking a third of my favorite blogs, I sat down to get a quick wargame in to destroy my enemies and hear the wails of their women, when the power went off. Which brings me back to the title of this post, where were you when the lights went off?

Well, my wife was on the treadmill in the garage/gym, and the darkness with a treadmill that doesn't move suddenly is dangerous but she wasn't going too fast and she found her way to the family room. Where I was looking for the candles and match sets that once were strategically placed around the home, but our house is still in disarray from the vertical blind installation which hasn't been completed yet. And my flashlight is with my carry knives at eye height on my right hand side, except that was what I gave my wife to replace hers until I got D size batteries for her flash light. That isn't too bad - there is one candle in a decorative dragon candle stand in my bookcase behind me, and matches are beside the knives and a match can light a candle and destroy the power of the darkness. Cool, go to the family room and hit the switch to the gas fireplace - ah, instant heat and flickering light - so romantic. My wife finds more matches, more candles and navigation is now a breeze. But if I stay home I may have to talk, time to go find a store with power matches, batteries, more candles and kerosene lamps. I feel so lucky that I don't have to crank the tin lizzie to get her going for the drive in the darkness, some technology is still working.

Ever read S. M. Stirling? This isn't Dies the Fire, but still it is so quiet and dark outside our home, I stop and ask neighbors if they need candles, batteries or anything. They say they are fine. I do find power for the protected, down the road, and two stores where I stock up a bit - the missing batteries, two more flash lights, matches, candles and the kerosene lamp I have been promising myself during every blackout. I return home with the essentials. Back home to set everything right, plenty of emergency light, NOW. The oil lamp is so nice for sustained light. So I am set, and I call my mother to talk for an hour, after about forty-five more minutes the power returns and we can watch the last hour of wrestling, eat the blue cheese and drink a little wine.

Aside from the way Gravity Rules things in my life, Murphy has a way of making his Laws well known. I should have stopped for those batteries on the way home two days ago. Lived and learnt! Practice with one hand, off hand, other hand and in the darkness.