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.

Time for the week's end...

Okay, if I don't forget I will be married about thirty-seven years tomorrow, okay, exactly thirty-seven years. I only became aware of the date tomorrow as I picked up a card in the mail box from my sister and her husband, saved! I still remember sadly the day my son came up and got my attention after dinner and a long day and said "Dad, Mom says happy anniversary." how small could I get, don't know but I wasn't a very big guy in my mind that day.

I was riding my motorcycle through the freezing cold this morning and smiling and thinking and knowing that I have achieved real status in the world, I am steampunked! Wearing a leather coat, heavy harness ring boots, Duck Bib Overalls, gauntlets, Infantry Blue knit scarf (knitted by my girl friend), wrist compass, flashlight, Zippo, couple knives, riding the Trusty Triumph and faithfully following Victorian mores - I am steampunk. Then I found out that only I understood it and everyone else was just fine with me being Earl. Ah, well it was a thought and like most art one has to understand it to get it and be got. The girl friend is gone, I married her and have to remember where to get the flowers, card and time to spend with her. It isn't on this Internet...

End of the world, just around the corner...

I am not a scientist, but was watching a demonstration of the effect of cellphones on honey bees, and they were dying so badly - compared to honey bees a foot away without cellphones. Now I don't believe all the cellphone users in the world are hunting honey bees, but they are being attacked by the constant bombardment of the GPS satellites.

According to Albert Einstein, our very existence is inextricably linked to bees - he is reputed to have said: "If the bee disappears off the surface of the globe, then man would only have four years of life left." is a quote used much, and it helps if four years from now the Mayans, Einstein and William Earl Dungey have said it is over, we blew it and we had our chance. The Road by Cormac McCarthy is worth reading but not worth looking forward to living as... a minor character, there will be no major characters.

I was naked today - which in ancient terms meaning unarmed - when Sir Lancelot was caught with Queen Guinevere, naked (without his sword) and had to borrow the sword and armor of the first knight he killed coming through the door. So I was visiting the doctor for my checkup and not carrying pistol, knives nor tools - I was so defenseless. But my weight was fine, the blood pressure great and the vein found and blood flowed freely - into the vials anyway. Too much LDL, 177, others are in the box, that terrible box. I was warned by the Pharmacy that my new improved medication may cause upset stomach, adjustments, and if I have strange muscle pains to report it to my doctor - oh, and get some Liver enzymes done in six weeks. I asked if it was necessary to attack my liver, I only have one, but they don't look at it that way. Kind of like shaving a little excess from the door to make it no longer stick... and after great training days my muscles always talk to me... since Junior High football practice.

As I was wandering the streets without a police escort, personal body guards or my personal weapons I thought about how I was going to take on and out my attackers - Jeff Cooper had a thing about awareness and the need to know which situation one was in, so you are prepared - and I was going through combinations and take downs and outs that I never got from watching movies. It was an interesting exercise, but futile, no one came at me. After all I am just a harmless older man. Back home, knives everywhere, pistols and rifles, ammunition and hot coffee, hot shower and a soft bed to sleep in - the world isn't going to end today, but when they come for my piece of pie I will be so upset. I wonder how the honey bees feel felled.

How we work wonders in the world...

I found this fine picture of a well worn warrior, and I immediately knew this guy knows how to do his job observing and slamming enemy with massive death from a far, and I laughed at the people that were trying to justify his wearing his uniform and weapon that particular way, the shaggy hair and unshaven cheek -- maybe they never went where one is hoping for just a bit more sleep, a little more hot food and enough water to drink between those "one must pay attention or die" events in combat zones... maybe. Not being in the death dealing business any longer I still observe and am glad there are soldiers serving, and really glad there are very capable soldiers serving.

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Three posts with pictures with guns and one would think that I don't know I work in the dusty dry book circulation circles. But I do know it, I am at a quarterly conference for the Institutional Library Servers (really 'Services') - those heroically manning the libraries out in the prisons and mental institutions of Washington State. We are exchanging views and news about ourselves and our work, and learning about the future, the budget, the priorities and our new assignments. I have to figure out which elected officials should be invited to our libraries, to see what we do on a daily basis and show them how they could help. I will be watched carefully - politics are a very careful business for those that want to survive (walking on fragile flooring). We worked on a future blog for public view (no it isn't ready yet, we have little idea of what we can do, but lots of thoughts about what we want to do), it was interesting watching someone create at blinding typing speeds and then going back and changing much to protect us innocents and crafting a better product. One critical goal is to get our vacancies out where interested library workers can find them - I guess I could put some links on my blog, but then I would be thinking lots of library professionals and paraprofessionals visit, and that isn't true just wistful thinking.

So one more day of conference and exchange of ideas, then back into our solitary sanity in the middle of chaos central - the institutional library. Helping find that special book, piece of music or information for our patron's purpose, always hoping that their lives and our world becomes better for our efforts. Never totally alone, there are telephones, emails, fax machines and some really great people working in the institutions and institutionalized... for whatever reasons befell them there. May your world be in harmony today... even if you can't ride your motorcycle.

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.

The one I brought to the dance...

Once long ago in far away Germany I lived in Nurnberg, was an Operations Sergeant for a great Artillery Battalion of the 1st Armored Division Artillery. The days were long, and full and I get to go home and have a fine dinner with my wife and son, then go sit in the easy chair and read or watch the news. Life for me is always better than I deserve. So I am sitting in comfort and about to zone into mellow when my four (working on five) year old son comes up beside me to get my attention. Being the great father I was, periodically, I turned to him and asked what was up. He said "Dad, Mom said to tell you Happy Anniversary!" So busted...

This is the woman that took her money and bought me my first Colt .45, the one I still load up and take to war. The woman that kept the hearth and heart fires going and sent prayers and love when I was away doing creative destruction for Democracy. This is the lady that I take to dances and would fight for at the drop of a hat, and don't ask to dance with her unless you are willing to fight me, of course she would want to dance once in a while - even with the guy with two left feet and no sense of shame nor rhythm. Rumor has it I could score points by taking the day off from work and my priorities and spend it on her and us. Sometimes Rumors are true. Bye! God, have I been blest for thirty-six great years... plus the three and a half before we wed.

Betterment Fund, my betterment or their's...

Seems that the Corrections Center at McNeil Island has spread that slimy criminal morality around, corrupting everyone. So, Ms. Accounting for the money? Don't you know only stupid people committ crimes in public? We thought we could trust the government, it isn't like the BIA Trust Fund accounting? Is it?

Ah, I shouldn't talk about stupid people, my Credit Union online banking service has locked me out of my account, again. It is for my protection and I only have to go to the Credit Union, during their open hours and talk to a real human being and bow fifteen times and plead with for mercy so I can get back online. I refuse. I am too stupid to be trusted with access to my account, through computers and cookies and their security systems - I know the high school I graduated from but I can't see what I typed - so did I hit the keys correctly? Only the computer gods know. So I write, six checks to spend my money, and seal and stamp five envelopes and I am a good citizen again. Without the online services of my Credit Union, for my own protection - actually it is for their protection isn't it? I really shouldn't talk about stupid people (me?), but should go bust some caps.

Nice Cold Clear Day - Mount Rainier stands out

I want to ride my Triumph, because I am excited at so much Sun and all this free time, the cold doesn't even affect me - I see others in leathers on their motorcycles and they are having more fun than I in my minivan on my way to visit a public library. Why not me?

I think I should have my sunglasses on, I think about the interview, I think about friends, I park and visit the library and set their alarm off twice as I go in and out and then about - checking the new books on their shelves; Westerns, Mysteries, and Sci-fi. I meet my friend and we talk and that makes the day worthy, offered to put a good word in for me - but enough remember me from before I will go with the interview alone. I am early, I am invited in and addressed as "William" which I correct to "Earl" - these ladies don't know me, and I have never met them. Maybe I have changed too much as I aged, one of the pages I worked with before didn't remember me when I said 'Hi' either, it has been almost ten years since I worked for that library.

I am introduced and we touch common grounds before the questioning begins, the rules established, the language appropriate. Information Services is hiring one Library Associate, first question is what do I do now that would be helpful in their library and that position. I recite all that I remember that I do - and it is a long list, when their last question outlines the duties I would have in their library I realize that I won't be doing as much as I do now, and being only one of many I will be under appreciated. Still I answer the questions honestly, relaxed and with a little humor. My wife's advice was to not talk too much - since they are trying to write it all down I do think and then respond appropriately. Thirty minutes later the interview is over, they told me what the maximum pay was (if I worked there a long, long time) per hour. I shook their hands, for some reason the woman with gloves on the entire time upset my harmony, and I didn't like shaking the gloved hand, it was cold in that large room but two of us didn't have gloves on.

I drove home, counting two more motorcyclists going in my direction and one coming against the traffic. I considered that I probably won't get called - over qualified and too independent - hard to supervise, but would remain on their list for a year and maybe more interviews as new holes appear in their staff. My inside informants have said the budget talk has been very quiet, the personnel problems haven't changed much. I decide that the motorcycle needs a run in the cold clear air... time to breath, time to roar. I get home and take off the tie and interview gear, put on sweats, extra layers, mask, turtleneck sweat shirt and boots. Get the good warm gauntlets down and the full face helmet. Open the door, roll the bike out, turn the fuel valve, open choke, turn key, press starter - such lovely improvements over the kick starter of my first motorcycle (I don't have to prove I am a man any longer?). Close garage doors, put on helmet, adjust gauntlets, get on motorcycle, turn off choke, roll throttle, release, disengage clutch, tap into first gear - roll down drive and onto the street and adventures.

Others are going home and I am going against the traffic, and I fly (both wheels on the ground) and I fly. Stop at the Harley-Davidson dealer to see what is there, and nothing calls to me, I am too particular about my ideal motorcycle and too content with the Triumph in silver and graphite, even with its wounds, honorably earned the hardway, battle scars and scares, things to talk to my son and friends about over a beer (okay, a coffee). Time to go home and I want to miss all the congestion of the commute - not easy, but I have more flexibility on the motorcycle and I use it - seventy-five in a sixty zone? How did I get that fast, must be an error in the guage, this is the commute and nothing is protecting me, slow down a shade and read the traffic and the road. Very round about route ridden, but I finally get past the herd of migrating motorvehicles of suburbia and scoot home to find my wife dressing for church. Day is gone and it was great.

what the library and its services mean to you...

The Library is a little piece of sanity in the chaos and stress of prison life. I'm nearing the end of my fifth year with another eleven to go. Instead of looking ahead to all those years still behind bars I simply look ahead to my next library day.

With the help of a great librarian and the Interlibrary loan program each week I explore historic battles, humorous stories of growing up and experience exciting and interesting lives in the distant past or far future. ...

.... My only complaint is that it isn't open enough. I was in general population in WCC between 2004 & 2006. We had library 3 nights a week from 1st movement after dinner until recall. Having library only 1 night a week for only 45 mins and only for the first 40 inmates makes it difficult to get everything you want to done. ...

.... There are only 3 things I look forward to in prison - visits, my job in correctional industries and library day. Thank you!