Just keeping you posted...

Seems our Program Manager is caught in Florida, flight grounded by high winds which we shan't name. She has to catch a later flight this week. The rains will be here, although they say Thursday will have a break. The rains come in bands like waves upon the beach and I did jog and walk yesterday but then was well soaked in the evening drive. I have lost, last week, one of my better workers to the Chain Bus, he had to move on to Monroe Corrections Complex. That made me short, and sure enough one of my other better workers has two afternoons of group counseling to attend every week before the end of December, and yesterday they had the Veterans Banquet - yes, we have Veterans inside our fences that are in State issue serving time, we also have them in Corrections Officer uniform and admin - there are Veterans everywhere - just not as many as there were at the end of the draft in 1973. The Republic of Korea, Israel and Switzerland still have almost universal military service for various reasons.

I had attended for eighteen weeks Infantry OCS at Fort Benning, GA, in the Fall of 1967. Got pretty close with the rest of the platoon. Years later as a First Sergeant I was running the streets of Fort Bragg and saw one of my platoon mates, now a Major in Special Forces and we talked in his office. He had once been visiting a Federal Prison on some mission or other, and had run into one of our platoon mates in the administration of the institution and they talked and caught up, then the administrator, called on a telephone and they brought in a prisoner, who just happened to be one of our platoon mates. Strange, no guarantees of how well you will do, just because you had a chance it all comes back to what you choose to do and act.

Back to reality of today, I had best take out the garbage and get ready to run, have to make better choices, my wife told me no early retirement - I have to keep on keeping on... but the government wants my tax contributions, so I already know. Do remember to honor the service of our vets tomorrow - from this vet it is embarrassing to see free meals and such, but tears flow when the children who I hope never know war say thank you. Their future has always been what it was about, we don't want to dwell on our past.

Hey, Old Timer...

I am very aware of how near retirement and impending doom I am, but I was walking down to the dock in Steilacoom when a bright red BMW pulled off the road and stopped. I walked up and leaned towards the open window, hoping it would be the mythical long legged red head looking for guidance. It wasn't but was a young soldier with sunglasses perched on his head and three metal qualification badges on his digital Desert Camo Uniform, he leaned towards me and asked "Hey, Old Timer, would you like a lift?"

As soon as "Old Timer" came out I was thinking Gabby Hayes and cringing internally in denial. I had just slipped in the movie of my mind from leading man, the hero, to comic relief sidekick, how had that happened? I kind of smiled and told him the walk was my exercise and thanks for the offer, as he sped off I hoped he just wanted to be nice and show off his ride - not that he thought I really needed a ride, I hadn't been limping nor lumbering on. I was enlisted for the Vietnam War in 1967 and stuck around through other military operations to including Desert Shield and Storm in 1990 and '91. But I started putting that life together with riding my motorcycle up behind a car waiting at a stop light, and reading the Memorial tribute in the window, of a young man, born in February of 1991, when I was getting prepared to invade Iraq with the French, that died in our current wars in 2009, he hadn't gotten to nineteen. So in honor of those Veterans, the "Old Timers" everywhere I will tell you about Samuel.

He was born before the turn of the Century, the Eighteenth Century, and grew up big and strong and joined the King's Dragoons to fight in wars on the Continent, against France or Spain. After the first little war he came home and everyone admired the fine Calvary saber with the gold inlay and shining sharpness -- asking how he had come by such a fine saber. He said modestly that a French officer had no further use for it and he had. His military career had gone on and the places would change but Samuel didn't for he went to the sound of the guns. In one of the many wars against France he rode off and came back with a fine pair of horse pistols,matching French pieces. When asked to tell the tale about that, he again replied that the French officer having no further need for them had given them up to him. He couldn't go on being a gallant dragoon forever, so he settled down to a small farm and small wife, raising crops and children and getting old. His years were wearing and he limped a little and later a lot, but there was no quit in him.

On April 19th, 1775 with the country rising up in arms to stop the British regulars Samuel Whittemore took up his musket, his horse pistols and cavalry saber and went out to do battle for his family and neighbors. He took up a strong position behind a stone wall about a hundred and fifty yards from the road and began to fire upon the advancing British redcoats. His fire was effective for they sent a squad of flankers to eliminate the position believing there were several rebels there. Samuel got several shots off from his musket before he had to pick up the pistols, and he got two shots off wounding with one and the other, he was drawing his saber when one of the regulars shot him in the face, taking away part of his jaw. the others quickly bayoneted him about a dozen times and left him for dead, then hurried back to the marching column, not wanting to be left behind in the coming darkness with the rebels everywhere.

Samuel's friends and neighbors came out after they left and went to see what they could do, expecting to find him dead, but they found him trying to re-load. They got a door off a home, laid Samuel on it and took him to Doctor Tufts. They begged the doctor to save him, but the doctor said it was too late, they asked him to try anyway and he did. When he finished he did tell them quietly that Samuel was going to die, he was seventy-eight years old. The doctor was correct Samuel Whittemore died, eighteen years later - scared horribly but always proud of his service to his adopted country and sure that he would do it again if called. A very dangerous old man, the oldest combatant on the field that day.

So the next time you see someone old and almost ancient, smile before you call him "Old Timer", it would be kinder to ask if he could help you -- for he would be glad to be the leading character in the movie of his life.

Tired out, and time to go to bed...

and I don't do half enough, I have to admire the rest of y'all, EnergizerBunnies all. Anyway, I have turned in my title for my Story on Saturday Night - really live. At the Antique Sandwich Company in Ruston, Wa. Oh, you wanted that linked, go Google it, I want you to show up and buy a five dollar ticket and enjoy good coffee, excellent strange local pies and such - and an evening of Storytelling. My story is "Hey, Old Timer" and it starts out all about me and then moves on to the important main character. Good seats at 7:00 PM.

I have to go shower, my wife's fine example of twenty minutes on the treadmill while I napped the supper away (difficult to keep my eyes open) made me go out and test the machine for forty minutes - yes, it can still bear my weight, the Country Music is more Rock than I like, but did enjoy the distraction from the blank wall in front of me... just me, the music and my mind... dangerous combination. Good night, y'all.

How did mild mannered Clark Kent use that phone booth?

I am switching gears from Library Keeper to Shoot Boss, and I am just as far behind as ever. The shoot box did arrive, and my wife moved all fifty-three pounds of it inside from the porch. It doesn't have every thing I wanted, but more of some stuff and it will all keep to the next one whatever I don't use. My range clothing is laid out, the rifles cased, the other stuff already in the Caravan, it will need fueled up tomorrow very early, only two hour drive down I-5. I opened both IAAR and AAR on the Appleseed forum, and established a link on this blog to get to the public one. One last check in the morning of the load and the paperwork - I have to file everything upon completion with the folks back East, which will be fun, since Monday I have to do inmate payroll and the October reports, I did send off the end of October stuff today.

Oh, on my being Superman, my heart doctor says I am wasting my money and his time unless I come up with something better than a faint, once. I do like that opinion. I did report for my brain scan, to see if I had one, if it was taken over by demonic possession, if an alien life form is living there and spying on humankind.... results will be Monday. I do know that I really can relax deeply, that MRI machines are noisy, and that hospital gowns that open in the back are only for the convenience of the staff in covering patients, not in making patients happily securely dressed.

Okay, now I am really ill....

I don't believe in Zombies, although people tied to their televisions, cellphones and such may be closer than I want to realize. Still today when I went to check with my doctor he had other specialists listed to see about how to improve me. Sigh, and my mother loves me the way I am, except for the far away and apart stuff. Anyway, my doctor wants me to see a Cardiac Specialist and get a Brain scan - anyone that knew me as a Drill Sergeant and Senior NCO would immediately know the doctor was trying to find a heart and mind - which were removed in my first NCO Academy for my future professional growth. What my doctor and I talked about is confidential, but really I wasn't buying it and probably won't anytime soon without something else changing.

I walked down to the dock today, like most days, and a bright red BMW pulled over and stopped and the window powered down, so I stuck my head down and around (hoping for that beautiful long legged red head of my mythology -- it wasn't) it was a sharp looking soldier with three metal proficiency badges above his left pocket and sunglasses on his head "Hey, Old Timer, would you like a lift?" Which is not the way to sell me a refrigerator in the Artic, Old Timer? do we know each other? "No," I answered, "I do this for the exercise and thanks for the offer." He drove off, I hadn't even been limping or anything but he was looking out for me. Ladies, he was a keeper if you could catch him... like I would know what a keeper was today.

The only other thing of note today was that I called BlogTalkRadio to make may opinion known on Gun Nuts Radio: Self Defense hosted by Breda of Library, Guns and Bacon fame. So I chatted and no one paid attention to me, and then I called and was nicely thanked by Caleb - but I probably sounded like an old man when I asked why he hadn't shot in his latest self defense opportunity - his answer was correct - the threat was gone so he didn't shoot. I also wondered but didn't ask why he was a target of the fool with the knife, what made him a potential victim? Still, since he threw his coffee at the perp I thought that was the first good move, getting his pistol out next was second, and not saying "put your hands in the air" was the third good non-move.

Okay, almost time to go get the hot shower and get to bed, I am so far behind in work and will crack the whip tomorrow. Since another doctor has my Thursday afternoon tied up in his office and lab. Can't wait to find out about the Brain Scan, I know there must be a good picture of my mind somewhere.... blank slate of course... I did get three green ball caps to use as Shoot Boss this weekend, two are perfect colors, no sewing on them yet. But the color becomes me... I hope.

What are you worth to your government?

Well, except for the fact I pay taxes and obey the law, I am sure the government doesn't really care that I am alive and wouldn't pay anything for me. But then I know that the government is only a thing - without a heart and a mind (yes, there is no intelligence in the government only in the people working behind the curtain - and sometimes that needs to be proven), and certainly no soul.

As I approach that magical age of 62, early retirement opportunity under the Social Security program, I downloaded the free calculation software, and started filling out the data and their forms - isn't anything simple in the government regulations? See comment on intelligence above. I ran the data, found an entry error, corrected it and ran the data again. I expect I will get a paper copy of their annual estimate in a couple of days (end of October for me) and the two will be very close to exactly.

In the end as I discovered when talking to my wife about it last night, her greatest benefit from my Social Security is if I die and go to Heaven, she would get more than I would for staying alive. So since the rule is you pay people in the direction you want them to move - the government is trying to get my wife to off me, lawfully, and quietly. I don't have any fear of that happening, she started to worry about what would happen to my guns if I died, seems she thinks my son shouldn't get them since he drinks, or better reason - he isn't really interested in them. He only shoots professionally, which in the military isn't as much as the civilians would know. I will have to figure something out that would work well for those firearms.

I will pretend I have time to work on a plan, but my doctor's office called up and they want me for consultation and examination this afternoon in follow up to the fainting (?) incident on the fourteenth, maybe they found something else?

Okay, for all of those that believe that the government loves us and is only trying to make our lives better - I will admit that as long as I pay taxes, work productively and obey those people behind the curtain, they probably won't try to trick me into breaking a law, put their ski masks on to hide their faces and break into my home nor shoot my wife through the door. I do doubt seriously that they will tell the media that I live in a fortified compound and try to smoke me out, and I am almost positive (not living in Philadelphia) that they aren't going to drop a bomb on my home and burn out the neighborhood. But I do remember that our government, American, has done all those things to the least of us. I mean, they even got Martha Stewart, for falsification of evidence? I need to stay below the radar, don't we all?

Remember what I wrote about government not having a mind, and the level of intelligence of those behind the curtain, and always that there are over three hundred million Americans most of whom don't work for the government except for that tax thing. Back to coffee mug.

The measure of a man...

Friday night, I was really tired when I rolled home in the Caravan, and waved good-bye to my wife going out to her Ladies Bible Study. Hmm, there were other things I once did on Friday nights in another life long ago and far away, and seemingly happily ever after. So I have Willie Nelson singing Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain on the television, and am thinking about the week.

I check my weight, blood pressure and heart rate daily after rising, and I am always making comparisons between the me I know and the one y'all do -- some how you have made judgments and mostly think well of me, or that I am a bit off the mark. Constant evaluations - how do I measure up, how am I, how do you do? The measure of a man... yes, those of the female gender may play, too. But I think you are way too hard on yourselves. We really like soft cuddly sexual objects, if we had wanted hard plane surfaces we would never have left the shop, with the wood work or automobile bodies. Honest, sitting on a couple thousand pounds of raging bull has no sexual gratification, that is the combat struggle that men need to rage back with... not about sex at all.

Being older and gentler I don't seem to have to rage in combat much anymore, although there are some trespassing turkey takers I thought fondly of taking out. A phrase my son once used in the presence of a lady - who immediately identified it as being one of my thoughts for solutions to problem people, I was very basic Bad Guy once, proudly.

Still, it seems to be the week I am evaluated, I was measured and found wanting, and that was a shock - who me? You talkin' to me? Yes, she was. I get a blog post out of it and a Face book mention, then more folks weigh in and the tower officer is mentioned in dispatches, unfavorably. Everyone seems to be getting measured against their level of professionalism, and the ideal, don't we wish we never fell short and we ask forgiveness but not often enough. The whole incident reminded me that I need to pray for my enemies more often - seemingly I don't have as many as I once did, I often think I prayed too hard for the Vietnamese Communists and not hard enough for the poor Iraqi troops (those guys were hope&helpless) but recently I haven't had much time to think about my enemies - don't have direct contact and haven't been shot at, been the target of tactical ops or sudden mischief. And the ones that the media and the White House have never seem to be mine.

Today I finish my week with my professional annual evaluation as the Library Keeper at McNeil Island Corrections Center. My supervisor gave me my evaluation, it went well since it is the third one we have done, and we are more willing to talk and trust each other and look to the next year and what we can do to improve and make it a better operation in line with the Library and the Department of Corrections' mission and the needs of my patrons. Don't worry, all my faults she knows about were noted, but so were my proper adjustments in performance and attitude.

When you need to improve it helps to have some independent eyes looking at you critically, like a coach. Still, I like to set my own standards, always have.

I wanted to be thought well of by my father, to measure up to the man he was. I want to be loved by God and not fall short, still working on that one. I want my mother's love and pride and seem to have had that always save those terrible teenage years where we weren't ready for my foolish breaks for freedom - and I still tell little boys to run away and escape to adventure. I want to be stronger and faster and healthier, and don't want to pay the price to get there - but I do measure it and I am still moving out and getting somewhere. I want to get the smiles of lovely people, good folks everywhere, ladies and little children. I want to be trusted to take care of stuff; for myself and those I love and those that need me, the real me. I want to live in love with it all, until the echo of that love comes back and warms me to a brilliance I didn't know I have.

It seems I have been outed... time for change...

Mostly it was a very busy, but satisfying work day. I got the new books and donations processed and linked and into circulation, got half the ILL requests sent, CDs tomorrow, sent out three bins full of return ILLs and some ILLs requested from us. Yes I carried it down the stairs in one trip, I keep thinking I am special.

A visitor dropped in, he works as a volunteer, helping with whatever the Governor can't find funds for, and since there is a hiring freeze that seems to be a lot. He remembered me from years ago, I had attended a Kairos closing and he had asked if I would write something up about my experience - he remembered that I had. Go ahead, ask me to write, anyway, he said of the forty or more people he has asked only three have written. I don't work in Kairos as long as I work inside the fence, too confusing to the inmates is my reasoning. I still help bake cookies at the church when I can. I gave him my business card, with the blog title and my personal emails on the back. I also had a nice talk with two of the Corrections Officers coming in and working, asking how I was, did I need a break - it was only last Wednesday that I fainted, wasn't it? We did get the Segregation Unit books out and picked up the returns, so even having things still undone (we had a five minute Earthquake drill!) I was feeling good about going home and returning tomorrow.

It is raining, I have mentioned that haven't I? and as I left the Visitors' Building I saw a man ahead of me folding up his umbrella, so I called and asked him if he knew it was raining, and he said did you hear what she said. She being the officer in the tower controlling the gate sally port. I said no, I hadn't heard her, and I stood waiting for the gate to open for me, and it didn't.

So I waited, and then the officer said plainly that one couldn't open an umbrella until they cleared the second gate to the outside of the fence. And she called me a "Jackass". I had been outed. I did mention that I didn't have an umbrella, my ID was on the outside of my leather jacket, and I am now known to the world waiting at the gate as a Jackass. Feeling as bad as she wanted me to feel, standing in the rain, at a gate she wouldn't open, not being allowed to verbally assault the Corrections Officer in the fine performance of her duty, I turned to the other people that were waiting, and explained to three of the ladies with open umbrellas that they would have to close them and make sure their ID cards were showing before the officer that had called me a name would open the gate. They closed their umbrellas and we all got through the two gates the officer controlled without having to submit to any further abuse.

It really was my fault, being a Jackass, it isn't the officer's fault that she had to tell the world that I am less than human. She does have the responsibility to make sure that no inmates or other monsters of various persuasions sneak out under the cover of an umbrella. It is really true, if I were to continue to work at a place that I am not given a civil level of respect that I am sure I am a Jackass.

Facebook funnies....

The children are beautiful, but the thug behind them doesn't have a hearing aid, hoping that he won't be mistaken for Secret Service (suit is way too cheap, although the shoes might make it and that is about thirty extra years of wear in his face and body), still it could make it difficult to get a job in day care, don't you think? You would be so wrong if you thought I was carrying a Glock that day, only a Colt .45 would have met the requirements and I fall so short. Still I do like that picture.

This October is hard on old guys....

Facebook picture of Earl being cared for by Kum Cha after running his head into a tree while chasing a ball hit by some of that next next generation, sister sitting nearby, Florida (yes, it is colder here in Washington, and WET).

I was going to write about the war...

but I couldn't even sign into Blogger this morning without hitting an extra i in hotmail.com and getting refused. Well, I found it and corrected it and I am under two ten this morning and I have a mug of coffee so I will ramble on...

The United States is not at war, our Commander in Chief has received the Noble Nobel Peace Prize, I suspect he kept the same Secretary of Defense as the last Commander-in-Chief since he wasn't serious about continuing the war and could use the cover until he could get back to it. It really is still Bush's War, and President Bush will tell you that he is our last Wartime President, not that he was doing it any better than the current One of Wonder.

The reason I even mention it was a post from Frank James, about the M-4 (M-16) failures again ..., he wrote well about the problem and I just had to point out what I saw looking at the same problem. He knows his weapons, hunting and farming and I learn every time I read about his corner of perception. Having had my own personal experience with trying to get the system to improve the current pistol I know that the system just doesn't care, one voice, ten bodies, two thousand dead because of a mess in the Pentagon, or any other headquarters will be swept under the blanket of History. To be read and commented on by people that do care but aren't in control nor on a battlefront.

The reason we aren't going to win a war in the Middle East is that we aren't going to go to fight a war in the Middle East. Israel survives because Jerusalem and Tel Aviv aren't in California nor New York - they may get lots of bond buyers from there, but the leadership of the country, the people of the country and the reason for surviving are all inside Israel. So they pay close attention, and even when offering peace to stupid folks that think the problem could just be gone when the Jews are, they certainly are passionate and serious about trying. They are also serious about fighting wars to win them, not sustain their armament industry, Boeing and GM.

There was passion and concern from the citizens in the American Revolutionary War, the War between the States, World War II and just cheering and flag waving patriotism on all the others. If we would just move the Commander in Chief and Congress in session to the center of our international conflicts, and allow them to drag their lobbyists with them, we would have such better results, really. And if for whatever reason we still couldn't win, like Alexander the Great in Afghanistan of his era, make it look like he had and leave to conquer something easier.

Nice thing about rambling is that I expend all the heat and mind mumbling that raced through my head in the darkness. What was my point? Oh, yeah, that old Vietnam thing that is still unresolved in my heart. I personally remember my life then, and I didn't like what we were about to do with our professional army in Bush's War (do you remember all the reasons we are fighting it, still?). Yes, I like a professional military - keep the MBAs away from our officer corps and it could really be great.

I do want the best military to perform the Defense of America, and I don't want it expended (they are willing to fight to the death for the best of reasons and it isn't money) in stupid political paybacks and favors for friends in odd places. It just won't be there when America really needs its pointy end. Thank you for looking for meaning in all this, I am on the second mug of coffee, sure the current President is totally wrong on Iraq and Afghanistan and so much else, sure that those going back to the Middle East for the third, fourth or fifth time are wondering what is the point and they are the ones that have to tell the first timers what to do to survive, do well and win battles --- and it really isn't exactly like it was before, the new Commander in Chief has other things on his table to work on and look good about. Yes, you will be getting Turkey on Thanksgiving, read a copy of a book about the Marines in North Korea, they knew that only the Marines cared.

In addition: I am so glad my wife is off for her doctor's checkup, if I had to go my blood pressure would make him change my medication or admit me to the hospital, foolish waste of good money, best be about better stuff than worrying at what I couldn't fix no matter.

The best and the brightest and the results...

Well, I was proud to go and cover for Doug, who is on a well deserved vacation, at the Washington Corrections Center for Women. Remember I do try to avoid them, and my wife admonished me not to wink at anyone while there today, laughingly. So I drove off and reported on time, in uniform (pocket protector and tie - the things I hide behind). I found I could open Doug's locker, and leave my keys, and I got to come back and leave my wallet, too. But I had no chit to turn in for library keys, and when confronted with the irregular and unexpected the institution shut me out. The shift Lieutenant couldn't issue me a temporary chit, and I could have hung around all day and collected my pay - but the library never would have opened. Sigh

I called the Associate Superintendent to report that I had been there and couldn't help their library, but I tried. I drove off, paid my four dollars for crossing the bridge over the Narrows - if it weren't so cold and the octopi so large I might try swimming to save the money next time. Anyway, I stopped at the Western State Hospital to report, request a leave and report that I have managed to keep two library branches closed instead of only one. Somedays, I should just stay in bed it is always warmer there than the cold, cruel world awaiting me - but then I could try to warm it up for the rest of humanity - start with a smile, a gentle attitude and sure knowledge that I am going to be loved by someone today. My supervisor sent off quick emails and got the corrections requested - she was going to cover tomorrow and Thursday, and I will try again on Friday --- wish me luck.

Why am I working in a prison library? or any?

After getting a sunburn on the Sunny beaches of Florida, Sunday afternoon, my wife says I am as red as a radish. But I was preparing to ride the Trusty Triumph to work and it was a bit chilly outside, not frosty yet but certainly stirred me to cut a couple of minutes off my jog because I wanted to go faster and stay warm as my breath clouded when I exhaled. Yeah, leather St. Johns Bay jacket, white, knitted by wife, scarf around my neck (flashbacks to WWI flying outfits), pulled on the almost winterized thick gauntlets and allow the motorcycle to warm up a little longer as I adjust the helmet. Florida was nice wasn't it? I waved good-bye and rolled off into the ride, and I don't have to share, go get your own ride, worth every penny and all the unexpected shocks along the way.

A walk to the dock, finally thinking about what I need to accomplish in the library, nap on ferry, and walk into the prison, okay it is a Corrections Center, but that is so many extra key strokes. I am on the outgoing mail, the incoming mail, and find a Library for the Blind bag, knowing immediately who that should have gone to - I know his name, been here too long? Check the four days of email, and answer some that have already been taken care of by others. But one has to look, sometimes they don't skip you and they wait. Find a message from my supervisor that says I have to get the branch manual updated before she returns, and I was so sure I had it updated before I left - put that on the procrastination pile. Finally I have a full crew the last one tells me that his unit was locked down - since movement is already thirty minutes late I could believe it. And we work and help the customers, I find small problems only I can fix, others they should have already and guide them back to doing it better for the library and customers. Sending patrons to me is only when they have done all they can, I get interrupted many times, and that sometimes makes me forget my place and I start over. Can't say there is any boring stuff in my library, everyone wants something from me - the hustle is constant.

Another patron comes to my door and I almost start to snarl, I am such a bad guy, but then I ask what I can do for him, he wants to know what to read -- seems he has a lot of time on his hands and wants to get that stuff he missed in school. He wants the classics and stuff the college types all know, kind of. So I hit Google and print out about three recommended reading lists - glancing at them most of them aren't on my reading list but the education and media elite think they are worthy. Sigh. So I go out and we start to talk more about what he wants from the reading, self education opportunities in the library (all libraries everywhere), and why he didn't do it all the first time years ago. I want to give him Ender's Game but it isn't on the shelf but recommend it (he looks like he need teenage male romance -- which is always competitive adventure not sex, folks). Yes, I did show him the Great Books collection briefly - but I won't start anyone on Dante or Plato, I talk and discuss some more and head for Heinlein - grab Starship Troopers and The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, tell him not to think about any movie about any book - books are always better. He is still oriented a bit towards the classics, been talking to others, and wants to look at Moby Dick and a Dickens or two. So I show him a Classic condensation with illustrations of Moby Dick and walk him over to Dickens and grab the Christmas Carol - since Nicholas Nickleby is way too thick for starting out. I then talk a bit more, another inmate slides a book about reading for self education towards him (now where did that book come from?) and recommends it -- there are no private conversations in prison, every thing is monitored. But that is one of the great things about real readers - they are always willing to share their books just like Oprah (yes, I mentioned her book club - he thinks he might like to join one in the prison). I do go back to the Great Books shelf and find Melville and Moby Dick, or The Great White Whale. So he thanks me and hopes he can talk to me again later and my day is done, it won't get any better than that, all twenty minutes of nudging him into reading and hoping I have picked books that will make him come back for more. I stop at my internet computer and add a couple of self study books for purchase, and the ones that were recommended by Bob to add to the next book cart.

By the end of the day, as I work to clear the paper shredder jamming (when you don't buy it you don't care for it lovingly) and wish my request for labels and removable tape had been filled and decide I will have to purchase them with my own money, since it seems the Governor lost all of hers, where do the dollars go? by the end of the day, I mention to one of the old library workers (a fine large hunk of a man - okay, potential thug or gentle giant) that I had a great fifteen minutes today - out of the eight and a half hours, and he understood. Yeah, I will have to remember that because they aren't often enough, but they are golden.

So you want to make my day?

There I sit being polite,cooperative and listening in the ILS Quarterly meeting and I am blind-sided by Jill telling me that someone in the Office of the Secretary of State is editing our ILS blog postings, correcting grammar, adding pictures and other stuff that makes it better... I was almost ready to blow the building up, I have calmed down since and am not interested in getting the proper amounts of stuff to make mayhem happen, leave it all to the next earthquake or volcanic erruption.

I really think that helpful editing is like the defensive player tipping a beautiful spiral pass.... it isn't going to hit the target, not the way the passer intended.

So, OSOS, I think I am off of the library blog business - I really thought that a blog of institutional library folks with challenges, successes, passions and problems would be read by others in the library community, just because. Not everything can be entertainment nor entertaining, many of the blogs I read are just about what the author thinks worth writing or posting. And they go from awesome beautiful pictures to heart wrenching sadness and the Blues at their blueist. I know that when I did something worthy (not often as I should have hit it out of the park) I want to record it, I don't think I need to know who read it, nor why (they could just be trying to understand English from America) but I don't need anyone to edit my postings to their own direction.

Well, I am not going to do more than think there are an amazing number of fools and foolishness in the World, and continue to pretend that I am not one of them... I can fool myself most of the time.

only Thursday? and so much done already...

I uploaded records, linked books and the crew processed and only a little is left for tomorrow. Good crew almost working together can do it all, but they don't really work together, yet. I ride home on the motorcycle, and the day is good and hot, the Sun bright and the Interstate clogged and going so slowly no where. I do know that my better intentions melt away at dinner and after, I watch the grass get watered about all my energy level is good for, watching the sprinkler's slow water dispersion... the grass will grow and I will have to cut it, but that would be my job.

Ever feel the government is out of touch with you? I haven't liked James Carville since he made some stupid remark about dragging a hundred dollar bill through a trailer park, and I lived in one for some of the happiest part of my life, but it seems that he has produced a truth for all to read. I processed it into my prison library today, he does know trash.

40 More Years: How the Democrats Will Rule the Next Generation

Yep, that doesn't sit well with me, but he likes the idea of RULING, and I thought we fixed King George the Third about that concept. Americans aren't ruled, they do get riled. Now before you start thinking I think the Republicans are an answer - I don't. Seems everyone in Washington D. C. thinks they are in charge. They don't believe in serving the Public, nor really Representing their voters. There have been calls to broaden the bases of both parties, by labeling everyone something and pretending you are going to send something special their way soon. I don't like my doctor putting me in a box I will never accept political parties trying that with me.

About these Health Care plans circulating the Congress, why don't they post them so we can read them and decide? That wonderful bill they passed on without reading, we could have read that for them, honest there are some real speed readers out here in America. Hiding behind the words, the wonderful, excessive verbiage.

I have lost a blogger, it has happened a couple times before in my life, I need to get a lot more links and then not visit them daily. What is very nice is that sometimes they come back better and even stronger and always amazing. If it is time to go on, go gently, and remember the good times.

Well, since my coffee is gone, the evening cooling off and I am still short of sleep for the week, I will slide off the Internet and into the place where dreams dominate and maintenance of body and mind happen best. G'nite y'all...

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?

Blood Pressure Alert...

Mine is really where it ought to be, thank you Doctor Jin, just hope my liver survives those three pills. Discussion at work about a brother (not mine) that had tried to hurry across America and was stuck in Michigan - and how Americans seem to push themselves to get it all done. Maybe I am not pushing so much any longer and that would be a good thing. I like to think I am accepting what is and fixing what I can when it is possible and not worrying about what I can't, there are a few billion folks out there and so many more capable then I.

Reading pieces of Paul Revere's Ride, and both books from writers that ought to know about Crazy Horse. Next trip to South Dakota and I will go see the mountain and the carving of his image. All I have to do is schedule the time to break free, after I get some new tires on the Triumph. Actually planning on motorcycling to the Idaho Appleseeds since a sleeping bag and possibles fit well if packed properly. Have you noticed, Summer is fleeing? Best catch some of it before it is gone again. My program manager is going to be on the beach for two weeks, and has one shopping bag of books to read and expects her sister to have another of recommended reading. I will continue to add more books to the McNeil Island collection, talk information resources and entertainment with the fallen (ever wonder where Fallen Angels go? Purdy is where).

Yeah, acceptance is important and being in love is excellent, and being loved is really good for that blood pressure... okay, I will still take the pills and watch Doctor Oz on Oprah... yeah, right.

I have to help reorganize this home...

My wife bought a new refrigerator/freezer for her stuff in the garage and that shifted this stuff and this other stuff and now we can bring the Korean Cabinet out to the garage and get more space for a chair in the guest room. And we don't need to do it now but soon, so I moved it this morning, I have enough that I should have done that I haven't done.

Among the things in the cabinet that we haven't looked at forever are the games, boxed games, cards and such. I come from a Canasta playing family that hasn't passed on to the next generation but in the Army I learned Spades, Hearts and Bridge (before Bill Gates was introduced to it). I also learned not to play poker nor Blackjack for money (Vietnam flashbacks).

Anyway the Stratego game, Uno, Global Pursuit and many others have been exposed to the air again. And the really important, RISK games - I had all three versions, have been known to play multiple boards and universes. I had a birthday in Germany and my wife invited my crew and friends and their girl friends and wives - lots of food, drink and fine looking ladies - and the men got the Risk boards out and we played the night away. There were some upset women, but what can I say? These were the days before electric gaming in one's pocket, we had to carry playthings in the tracks and back packs.

Just when you think you are hot, some game comes along and shows that you're not.

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!

You do remember not to trust the Government...

I am getting old and I keep forgetting that the Government is not on my side - that is important, I only have two friends because I trust them, everyone else is suspect and below them is the government which I KNOW is trying to take all my extra for themselves.

I bring this up since I went to shoot at Fort Lewis Range 15 today. Having spent lots of time with my rifles over the past few months I thought it was time to shoot my carry pistol. I grabbed the case and away I went, passing all the bicyclists on their way to Portland from Seattle. When I got to the range I asked for a box of 9mm, and they didn't have any. So your government (of the people, by the people and for the people) doesn't have what it takes to run a good range. They do own sixty percent of General Motors Company, and that could be where all the 9mm is hiding.

Well, it is my fault, not the government's, so I shot what I brought and hit the target with every bullet, fifty percent of them in the black. It has been a bit since I was shooting double action short barreled firearms at twenty yards. I do have rounds in the pistol case: .22 LR, .45 APC, 9mm Luger. I am now placing forty-five and nine millimeter in the ammo box in the Caravan.

Why I ever trusted the government, they have done this to me before but I think they will get better the next time, and it doesn't happen.

Aren't they working on Universal Medical and the Economic Stimulus? Yeah, sure they are.