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.

Posting will be light....

I am working on getting a sexy hard body, and that takes time away from the monitor and back on the road work and heavy bag (sure, like I have a heavy bag some where). Tam mentions a book I should find and read to figure out why I might not make it through the next gun fight -- -Jim Cirillo; Guns, Bullets, and Gunfights, and Frank James spoke highly of him so two recommendations from those fine folks is enough, I am so far behind. Well, got to go - breakfast gruel and silly exercises call, what one does for love, sigh.

Congress just didn't get the point...

Congress should be smarter, but they really didn't get the point when moving Memorial Day Holiday from the 30th of May to the last Monday of May to make it a three day paid weekend for starting the Summer vacations, sales and barbeques - Congress didn't get the point.

The small town in Washington State that couldn't have a Memorial Day Holiday parade in their town because they were short two thousand dollars - the budget was bust there is an economic crisis - the town leaders didn't get the point.

Everywhere in the World there are lots of Americans that don't get the point - they will miss it completely this weekend and on the 30th.

Okay, you are all better than that - you will remember that eight good men, neighbors were killed by British Soldiers on 19 April 1775, and you will remember that the statue of the Minuteman is fashioned after Captain Isaac Davis of Acton, who died at North Bridge of Concord having led his Minutemen away from Acton, leaving his wife with four sick children. When asked if you could find anyone prepared to fight to the death for our country - I would ask you to name them, and if you were as smart as you could be you would tell me to read the names on the Wall in Washington, DC from Vietnam, or walk those hills in Arlington, or your nearest National Cemetery.

This Memorial Day Holiday - visit the ones that gave all they had, it is their day, it is not Veteran's Day - not a shopping day, not a picnic day, not an end of serious school day - it is the day to remember those that gave, "that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom...." thanks to A. Lincoln, who got the point.

Gray Day but yesterday was bright blue...

I have had a great weekend, Saturday and Sunday were perfect and I did my fifty mile motorcycle loop in great country and weather and puttered by the Harley-Davidson folks twice (Destination) I was so cool. Finish the day with the wife, wine and time well spent, completely forgetting I work in a prison library.

Okay I wake to gray skies, but still dry, time to get into the routine and increase my performance and I jogged in gray sweats, dark gray shirt and reflector belt, blue hand weights - get out and do it. When I return I call my mother and we talk a little bit, she never has her hearing aids in when I call, but the phone is flexible. I get cleaned up, and mount the Trusty Triumph, knowing that it may rain before I get home - still, I need to ride. There is a sixty-six year old woman out there in her eighth month of pregnancy, and it wasn't my fault - I realize how difficult it is to live twenty more years at the pace of an adult that must stay ahead of a growing child - evidently no one has told her and she wants it all. Strange that I think that doing exercises during commercials is the way to get myself ripped and hardbodied, and my friend agrees, but do I have the resolve to really work out during commercials? Well, what else is there to do - certainly not watch them...

I work through the afternoon and evening, library stuff, hearing that the White House has ordered the automobile companies to new mileage requirements - why don't they order everyone to walk? We would save so much fuel and be healthier. Oh, but Obama smokes doesn't he? So we know how smart he is, how much he cares about his children and how much he is doing to personally reduce carbon levels in the atmosphere - do you think the reason you don't see pictures of him smoking is media bias - or that they have been bought? Well, I did try to assist one inmate patron in finding books about the problems with smoking and how to quit. Found some, not as many as years ago, and gave him my personal story and motivation, but remember that inmates don't smoke - no tobacco inside the prisons - or any legal tobacco anyway. I chase everyone out, turn off the machines and lock up - it is waiting on me, the rain is back, Summer only a memory.

I ride home in the rain, one other fool rider out on the highway, but the bike performs and I roar and splash my way home. My wife opens the motorcycle door when she hears me coming and I do what she has wanted since I bought the motorcycle - I ride it straight into the garage - it means backing out tomorrow, it means I will be out of sync as the bike isn't in combat parked position, but then I never ride it out of the garage, just push it to the launch position like the Space Shuttle. It is good to be home, rain drops dripping from my soaked trousers - I will love hot medicinal soup and salad, hot coffee and WWE RAW. A letter waits from my mother, with her poetry, to read. Good night. Oh, and don't forget the commercials and the exercises during.

Economic Stimulus... in real time and effect...

The American Corrections Association auditor dropped by with the Associate Superintendent of Programs, and I got to try and wow him with my wonderful library and what we do for the prison population. I guess I did alright, seems I was mentioned in the outbriefing (which I didn't attend, since I do have a library to keep) for the evidence of a fine library well used. That was nice.

Today I had six inmates on the Call Out for testing and Job interview at 9:10 AM. I prepared ten test packets and got the other three workers on the normal Thursday work. I have only one open position and I really want the best worker for the job. I know one will be late since he has to see the medics first, and one of those coming has a position in the Chapel Library and wants to stay there and he looks a little older than I (only my opinion but he does) so I allow him to return to his work without a test. My workers do tell me about one of the names on the list - and identify him as a page cutter, and show me an example of his most recent ripping out an article from Men's Health. No, I am not allowed to shoot him on sight - probably why they don't allow me to pack pistols in prison. I have four people to test and interview, so I pass out pencils and tests and go back to prepare for the interview.

The first one done is an old worker, trying to get back into a job in this library and away from the terrible Corrections Officer that supervises him. I guess I am much easier, he passes the test without missing any of the answers, but he sure did get creative in reducing the number of pencil strokes to answer the questions. I interviewed him first, and used my "wake up and tell me who you really are" questions. I like to think all those promotion boards I sat upon have sharpened my pointed prying at the joints in the armor, it could be painful if I don't find out now about problems later. Then I relax, explain and we discuss a bit, and since he and I have some knowledge about each other - I tell him about my concerns over his weaknesses in his past performance, I am sure that hurt a bit but he can figure a better way to be, and I expect he will.

The second inmate comes in with his test and pencil and explains that he isn't qualified for the job, since the minimum education is a GED and he hasn't finished his yet. He has a body, and face full of tattoos, no minimum education and looks like a thug in size and shape of muscles - but I like the honesty and good manners in his voice. So I tell him to take a seat and talk about how he should get that GED finished and come back again, or get an even better job. I think Life has now gotten his attention, and he is looking for better ways of living.

The third man in is the page ripper, and I grade his test finding fourteen errors - it is almost like you really have to try and be that bad, but I think he just isn't as smart as the man with all the tattoos - and from his surly attitude during the interview I couldn't see hiring him ever. Still the job interview is always a teaching point for each inmate's future so I talk to him about presentation, answers to questions that would be better and wish him well on his next attempt to find work. Funny, if I were still an Army Drill Sergeant I would have marked this one for running off - not tough nor smart nor responsive enough to become a better soldier with more time and trouble. But I am not a Drill Sergeant and there isn't anywhere to get run off to, this is the end of a line in life that hasn't worked, so change directions and get with the program.

Fourth man comes back from his medical appointment, takes the test and I grade it with only two mistakes, he went a bit too fast and jumped a cutter, and reversed the answer. He also knew it immediately when we talked about it. He was awake for my questions, answered well and wants the job, because he doesn't have one, he worked in the library at another prison but didn't get enough hours, so didn't get paid enough so he changed jobs. He would do fine, so I will make my recommendation to the Job Center, telling them the first and second choice, explaining the selections and any problems I had during the Call Out - two no shows means something wasn't as it should have been. By the end of the day I still haven't any idea which of the two I would hire is going to be assigned to this position; for some good news waiting isn't that bad.

The inmates get forty-two cents an hour, my crew gets about forty-four dollars a month to buy their stuff with. For real staff (like myself) there is a better pay scale and the opportunity to pay taxes and earn a retirement and have health and dental care, two positions open, just not on my island in My Library, until I win the Lotto. It is all about me, ya know?

There is good news...

I am going to work very hard on becoming an American Rifleman. I can't be a Nation of Riflemen, but I can be an American Rifleman. There are tough times ahead, I need to be able to take my rifle and ammunition and make that well aimed shot and hit the target as I called it. That kind of skill and discipline is exactly what will get me to that great life that my family has always worked for, each shot is new and exactly (if one is doing it correctly) like the last one.

Those life skills don't change either, what has made my life a success to this point are truths that I can offer to others, and have. Many may count the number of dollars to mean their success, and others count the numbers of A-list invitations and coverage by Star and People magazines, but I count the smiles of the people I love, the laughter of the children I tease in their growing up, the touching of the elders that have lived it all before me - before they go away. I count the thank you's that I can respond with "It was nothing" or "de nada" and mean it. It costs so little to be so good, but it does improve with practice.

Yes, I will work on becoming an American Rifleman, each shot a work of art, a moment in time when the man, the rifle, the bullet and the target are one - dependent and yet separate - frozen in thought, action, follow through and release - on to acquire the next target.

Well, the world almost came to hear our talk...

Went to Olympia, the Red Lion Hotel to the WALE conference to give our presentation. The organization was wonderful, and completely helpful, I started thinking I was special and then noticed they were very nice to everyone (have I been working with bad guys too long?). I took in two presentations before lunch and then had a nice light lunch, and was asked if I was interested in writing something about working in a prison library for ALKI magazine. I told them that they would have to see my bosses, my reputation for bad word choice and attitude wouldn't help.

We set up, and there was a computer and projector and I found our ILS blog site, so we could show our visitors that we were entering the electronic age. Kathleen had about ten books, one of which she would try to sell, a picture of a chain bus and escorting vehicles, bibliographies of Mental Health Institution and Prison books, fiction and non fiction. There were tables of laminated newspaper articles and our esteemed senior secretary Rändi was video taping the entire presentation and questions. We were ready and our audience came in - your friends are always there for support, aren't they, sure enough if they knew who we were, they came to see the performance wishing us well. I was beginning to believe that no one else would be interested in institutional libraries and the role we play in preparing our patients and inmates for returning to the outside world. But we did get some visitors from the State Library, and from other area libraries, so I didn't feel like I was only preaching to the choir.

Kathleen started out and warmed up, I took my turn and back and forth we talked, answered questions and told tales. The important message of our pride in our work was laid out, the need for more staff, that our job does change lives because we take the time and do it right. Only the second time we have presented the message and it changed a bit, especially since we were answering questions as they were asked about things that needed some clarification, seems like I had extra words that were fit this time that had been too few before. We hurried and cleaned up and talked on our way out, I went to another session on how to find good medical reference resources on the Internet. I was still concerned about the presentation and its effect. I left the conference saying good-bye to Richard on my way out. One of those nice young ladies that had been making me feel special gave me a book bag full of goodies to remember them by.

The rains are back and I was in the Caravan on I-5 during the commute, so I pull off and go to Cabela's to pick up some important stuff for riflemen, a military leather sling 1 1/4", and dummy rimfire rounds, they were out of 30-06. And don't ask them about shooting coats or jackets - they seem to have the trap, skeet, hunting camouflage and blaze orange covered, but real shooting coats were not in evidence (get them online). I was given a military discount, but the sales tax is almost 9%, so the shopping was great - and the buying just enough.

No more credit? Delayed gratification rules...

I worked in high school, made enough money that I could buy a well abused Harley-Davidson as old as I was - seventeen years old. My father helped get it home and we tore it apart to rebuild it - he was flying corporate and could visit old Harley shops around the country and pick up parts - my only talent was sanding and removing old layered paint and holding stuff that needed two extra hands while a bolt was run in or through. It was one of the best things I was doing during those years, and it was with my Dad.

Funny, that threat of no credit to buy cars doesn't mean that much to me. My father bought his last car, used, and paid in cash I guess. His problem with the cost of the car wasn't the total price, what he had problems with was that it cost more than the home he and my mother lived in - inflation is an amazing thing. My first car was used, I was spending all my money on a new wife, not that we had a lot - I wasn't borrowing for that either, paid cash or waited to buy when we could afford it.

The thought of not having people trying to get me on a new credit card, a new car loan, and a new improved mortgage is wonderful. The idea that if I wanted to travel I would have to have a bunch of money in the savings account works well for my wife, she is going to her homeland next year to help rebury family, but it is all cash - she hates it when I borrow money.

Rumor from Asia, there was a general that took charge of his country, wanted to build it up like Japan had done after WWII. He went to America to get some financing, and the Democratic President said NO, there would be no money for dictators. Well, that was the rumor, and so the guy in charge went and gathered all the wealthiest men in his little country. He told them how much money they needed to come up with to start his industrialization program. They listened and thought about it, and then almost decided that they weren't going to find that money. But he was the guy in charge and rumor has it, that they weren't every going to leave that room if they didn't come up with the financing. So they put together a package and left the room and the industrialization began, and the exporting of talented people so they could send hard currency to the home country, the exporting of contractors, engineers, products and ships. They exported a couple of Divisions of military and gained cash from that. The economy grew and the country remade itself from sleepy agricultural to industrial manufacturing. Almost everyone wanted to own a business instead of working rice paddies. I knew he was in charge, but what amazed me was when he declared that rice straw couldn't be used for roofing anymore - they were a modern country and not that poor. So the straw came down and tiles, metal and other kinds of roofing went up. Yep, he was definitely in charge and transformed his country.

I am sure America is much farther along in the development cycle, and losing weight from our flabby self indulgence might be a very healthy thing. Forbes had a list of the 400 richest Americans, didn't it? How much are they going to pay to prop up the Banking industry? Much more than I can, I am sure, I am more consumer than investor. I will keep paying my bills and adding what I can to the Credit Union accounts so they can lend it out. If the man from Omaha can come out and invest money, I am sure some of those other names with too many dollars of worth could, too. Saving banks is a rich man's game, my job is saving my family.

I do know that a major Depression changed a whole generation into savers and 'do without' and 'make do' and pay cash. My grandmother wouldn't allow my grandfather the money for a new car, she was waiting until the bad times returned. Those that don't study History are doomed to repeat it. And for her, once was more than enough.

Old people should learn something every day...

It is good to feel like you know everything you need to know, or if you don't know it (go to the reference librarian and ask) it isn't really worth knowing anything about. But I learned something, about shooting, that I realized when it was seriously offered as a solution I didn't know but did need to get on it - the next trip to the range. Seems I haven't been as open eyed as I thought I was. Most of Sight picture and Sight Alignment I could quote and I could yawn listening to that young soldier talk about it. But when he talked about his coach telling him that he shut his eyes during his shot, and that was why he didn't see the brass ejecting, he had an answer for better follow through that worked for him. And that gem is one of the best I am going to treasure and polish. Go forth and do likewise!

Promised bail out for Institutions, I got zero...

Went to the ATM and withdrew a Yuppie Food Stamp - a twenty dollar bill and found I have a negative balance in my account - HOW DID THAT HAPPEN! I thought the government covered all the bad paper out there by printing more, I should have tons of money. I know that one has nothing to do with the other, except that the government expects me, as a working tax payer, to cover their foolishness - because they give me a vote and then force me to put up with their stupidity, sigh.

I have one thing left to do in life, get ready to leave it, nothing I will do will make crooks better, stupids smarter, or the sky bluer (lucky that isn't in the hands of me nor the Federal Government) enjoy it while you can. Pay off remaining bills, consolidate our retirement savings in anything except Government bonds and financial institutions, enjoy free stuff with my wife and the love of my life (good that they are the same person). Simple goals for simple old man, hope it works out.

Never enough time, or I am way too slow...

Watching the Women's 800 this morning, and sure enough if I had started with them they would have finished before I got to the 250 mark. Still I do love the women that do things fearlessly. Then I caught the Russian Pole Vaulter! Talk about fearless, after brushing the bar twice at a possible new World Record (5.05 m), she went for a third and Prayed (talking to herself and God, no one else could answer) as she applied sticky and did the vault flawlessly - at least in her mind. Then she flew down to the pit, placed the pole and sprang to the ceiling and cleared - and her smile came back as she relaxed on the way down to that cushion. Lovely thing being fearless, and Wyatt is on vacation or she would have been the Olympic Hottie of the day (I know she is above all that - but some men are so shallow) - and when she smiles I almost wish I were young and foolish and single - but I am only foolish. Inspired I went out for the morning jog - between rains squalls with lightning. It was a good morning and I was inspired and cranked on pumping my arms with the hand weights and dreaming, then I got by the Greyhound Rescue Ranch, and I had lots of running buddies - they would bark joyfully and start running along the fence with me and then look back when they realized my speed was stall, sputter and stall, sputter and stroll. Such a slug, but they are beautiful when they stretch out and leap into the distance and future, if I ever get a dog it isn't going to be a sight hunter - I would need a horse to keep up, and I don't do horses. Good day to be alive, isn't it? Wife recommends no motorcycle in the squalls, sigh, don't you just wish she weren't so often right? Nah, I remember when she was all the fearless I could handle, and I am not sure I ever did. Got to go, disconnect, turn off computer and join the taxpaying public...

Just busy as a dead honey bee...

I did take out the .22 rifles today and fired a couple of dry rounds, sitting position, have to get some good sling instructions for the target rifle. Postal match from SailorCurt to shoot early Saturday and email results to him quickly. Deadline is midnight in another time zone or so. Still, it is time for rifle shooting. After all, Kim du Toit has announced his blog will end in December and other riflemen will have to stand watch.

My mother wants a letter and...

I am on the blog instead, better get focused (AGAIN?), devotions, letter, bill paying (1st of the month, last half of the year for real people - first half of the year for my State Government's budget) and breakfast and physical exercise (jog, body weight boring reps, hot shower and shave).

Oops! Coffee

Multi-tasking is for fools...

I have been trying to hold too much, and on the way with everything I try to pick up another thing to bring along and then drop half of what I was carrying and begin to start all over - piling it on, the first adaptation to stress, just pile more of it on. In the 82nd Airborne we were accustomed to juggling lots of priorities, and the only important thing about juggling - was knowing which of the balls were made of glass and which could bounce harmlessly. Nice thing about the procrastination pile, that is all stuff I don't want to do anything with right now... later when I have more time, no glass balls there.

Once a much younger and forward looking fellow (ME?) I stopped every Friday to work on my charts and accounts to figure out what my Networth was, and since I had been keeping paper Cash notebooks since 1969 I could tell you at any point what my dollar value was. Just reaching up on the bookshelves and pulling one down. Oct 1973 (year of the Yom Kippur War) I owed $9595.19 on my trailer, $2803.20 on my Buick, and $70 on my color television, I had $1,191.64 in savings and Savings Bonds. Every month after that the debt went down and the savings went up. Okay, that is a simplification, but I knew where I was and where I was going and could focus. On Fridays I started watching Wall Street Week with Louis Rukeyser as my host and guide into the world of investment. That was about the time I started my IRAs, for tax relief and future retirement, mainly the tax relief - until Congress started messing with it, reduction of my income by whatever my wife and I could put away (up to two grand apiece) was wonderful. My advice to the young, start early, add often and use dollar cost averaging and broad market. I will mention that I don't do that stuff now. I have figured out that I can't ever retire completely, that having some money means that the government automatically wants parts of it, that piece of the pie that they are sure someone somewhere needs more than my wife and I.

One of the things I dropped was that careful accounting of my networth, not really worth the time now. I am running out of time, falling apart physically and likely mentally. I went to the doctor and had my examination and got his best guidance and a new prescription - four days later, after the blood tests (that I haven't seen) came back his office calls and leaves a message that I should call them, I don't. I will stop and talk to the doctor, next Monday on my way to work, for it is easier to dream of chasing long legged redheads, and just smile about how much nicely my motorcycle slides through the traffic and our Sunny days, my son is going to be home that evening... Best do one good thing at a time, multi-tasking means I might miss that smile that will go into my tomorrow, and that would be a shame.

End of the Year (Fiscally speaking)

All the money must be spent by the end of June, and accounted for and don't disturb the fellows over there doing it. It is a lot of work. My part of it was spending the money budgeted smoothly over the ten months I was granted (two months belong to the accountants that I must not disturb), and I am close to where I should be. Explained to me several times during the last few weeks that my dollar amount granted was only a temporary figure and it could end up higher or lower - as the accountants worried at it. I was given a day to go Purchase Order Shopping, first amount was $1089.52 but by the time I made the telephone coordination it was $1122.00. The first time I went to the book store the manager wasn't in, and it was a wasted trip, so I went back to my library and worked on stuff that had piled up. I have procrastination piles at work as well as home, but my Program Manager has told me for years that it was okay not to get everything done each day and to have something left for tomorrow - hmm, they haven't been working with a military mission that says all equipment accounted for, cleaned and refilled and ready to roll back out - or you don't get to go to bed or back home until it is done, my habits are engraved on my work expectations.

Well, the shopping went well, since I had a long wish list for older books missing from series, favorite authors that we had worn the pages out for heavy circulation, some classics and music requests - get us more music CDs! In three hours I shopped and picked up and looked over and grabbed the final copy - kind of fun spending the State's money on my fancy - but then I did get many things I won't read, but that they will. It is an almost regular library I keep and reading will set one free, if only while he dwells in the world between the pages and his mind. I was rung up, and packed out and get a ten percent discount for bulk purchases of used books. Four big boxes on a hand cart and out to my Caravan, load it up, return the handcart and drive off to the Depot loading dock. I label the boxes "Library" and talk to the freight chief, he gets them put on the first truck for the ferry in the morning and I am done for the day. I missed the last ferry that could have gotten me to work an hour, so I took two hours off after calling my supervisor, who had been holding down the library while I was shopping.

The following day I report for work, and catch up on what I hadn't done the day before and take my whole four inmate crew down to the mailroom, and there are the boxes and two days of mail bins - work awaits and we haul it all back up the stairs to Control and into the library. I unload the boxes on a bookcart and hide it away - curiosity is terrible, and knowledge is power and a commodity on the inside my clerks have real work to do and fondling new books and CDs just isn't going to be done on this day. Next week we would start processing.

So I organized the books, and searched the internet for MARC records to download, I find a hundred and fifty of the items. I get the inmates to make call numbers and add genre labels as needed, stamp, barcode, date due slip and 3M security strips. I will wait on downloading the MARC until I have a clean day and can link all the items, since I must submit a report to the State Library about all the additions to the collection. Since I can't find everything, the British and Australian publications not always covered in my search areas I have to send those items off to Acquisitions for them to process and return to me with a MARC to link to, I am still waiting on two from April but it is all part of that end of Fiscal year clean up and account for all the dollars. I am receiving other material prepared for adding to the collection as they continue to process the small additions and stuff that was stuffed in the closets until they could get around to them. Twenty-four items and eight items and I have loaded them up and the patrons are already reserving some of them - everyone wants to be first for the latest Patterson or Vachss.

Well, keeping the library open and normal operations, plus adding the extra processing and accounting makes a busy day, but on Friday I will download and link and they will scan, check one last time, putting those special books on reserve and grabbing the ones they just can't wait to read (the best part of working a library is first dibs). From only a wishlist on Thursday, to an actual item in the collection for circulation on the following Friday, and I get to ride a motorcycle with a smile for a job well done and a great week's work.

*The picture is posed from last year's movement of the library - not from receiving new books...

Found Resolutions! Now where is that Resolve?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Resolutions or resolution?

End of the year is about here; I have completed weeding three hundred and four items from the collection this month. Weeding is one of those terrible secrets about Public Libraries that those that love books don't like to talk about, needing space for newer and better (one hopes) circulating items. But I could use the same treatment in my home, getting rid of the excess I will never use again, or in my life getting done with those wasted minutes in a life poorly spent. Here in the prison the inmates have a sentence and time remaining to be served and they are experts at what they must do to get out any sooner, unless there is a surprise they didn't expect in their future. I have to come up with a six year plan, all I have left before I start draining the Social Security Trust Fund with the rest of the Boomer generation. I figure to also look at the ten year plan at the same time, having been granted three score and ten years as the life of a man. There are several things I won't become: a Presidential candidate, a suicide bomber, a holy man, nor a drug or alcohol addict. I do have some things I would like to do (a bucket list?) and some titles I don't have yet but would like to (a fine fellow?) and positions I could work at earning (Elder?). Well, back to regular work, buying new titles to replace the ones weeded.