You know, the LIBRARY KEEPER....

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

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

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

To Earl Dungey: Nov 1, 2009

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

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

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

Sincerely,

Nice Lady in
Seattle WA 981??

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good morning, blog readers everywhere...

I am up and working on becoming a better man again, no hope but it is one way to try and pick the better of two options. I am fatter, thank you for feeding all my desires and few of my needs, it is great to be able to have to problem of too much than the challenge of way too little. Since twenty pounds is what I complain about most, thinking thirty five will really ring my alarm bell. But my blood pressure was 115/82 this morning with the heart rate of 42 beats per minute, so vacations are still very good to me. Note to self, when visiting places with water and sand, take swimming suit and get in and swim, how can one just go without (yes, there are swimming suits and various things to wear in my chest of drawers), also use the fitness facilities, and drag some friends or family along to sweat and talk to.

Also, take a couple of your good knives, it does seem really strange to have to find a Wal-Mart and pick a Chinese product when I have all those great ones from Germany and the old proud of our product America - before Gerber sold out. I guess I could have found out about my concealed carry permit from Washington in Florida - but that wasn't on my list of important things to do. I did find my sister, the one closest to me in many things, has a License To Carry Firearms from Pennsylvania. Which to my eyes didn't make it clear what the intent of the license was, having looked it up I kind of understand. I do appreciate the efforts of the State of Pennsylvania, but doesn't that fly in the face of simple 2nd Amendment language? It is 'Shall issue' so that isn't too bad, unless one is living or working in Philadelphia (would Benjamin Franklin choose to live in that city today?).

Still in the sibling competition of which of us is the better at whatever, I have to hand it all to my brother on the motorcycling front. He was the one that recommended the Trusty Triumph to me, and he has ridden motorcycles for many more years than I, many many. But he rode his bike all the way from Aurora, Colorado to Palm Coast, Florida, and is zigging back by North Carolina to visit Mom and get some tubing twisted for his exhaust system on his bike then home. Now that is some riding. He needs good thoughts to go with his good riding skills, those highways are a zooming jungle out there. You have no idea how many times I got lost looking for some area, and it was very nice to sooner or later be back where I was supposed to be. I have my niece's home zeroed in -- so I figure the perfect home is coming on the market soon for her to lock in and buy --- just so one day I will have to find them again. I will be taking my swimming suit, shorts, jogging shoes and good attitude, dude.

HOT, it is so hot today...

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

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

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

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

Another day for the MOTORCYCLE!

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

So what were you living for today? cause it is done.

I find that writing the President is good for me and the exchange of views - since the Credit Card Bill of Rights is approved and the President is proud of it I wanted him to say he was proud to sign the same bill and allow loaded weapons in the Parks - like he knows that responsible gun toting adults will be up to the concern of the ones that aren't competent enough to trust themselves and their neighbors with loaded weapons. Do you think he will listen? Nah, me neither.

I do continue to fall apart, getting old is a product of breathing, if one stops breathing I understand one stays locked into that last moment of your life and some one's memory. So as a piece of me breaks I don't see replacing it, just struggle on with what I got and breath in and exhale - using those respiratory pauses for shooting almost up to the best of the weapon in hand.


Library work was fine, not very remarkable but fine -- no one in my library turned anyone in to the police (but in a corrections center, the snitch isn't appreciated much and putting inmates in Segregation is often protective custody). They found some $2000 for each institution to spend on more materials for our collections, our plans have to be to our supervisors before the 1st of June, I want to do the shopping by that time. So we started making a wish list, new hardbacks of popular books should eat that money up quick, I am going to look into a new bookstore instead of Half-Priced Books.

Weather working on Spring looking like Summer, it is over halfway through May and yes the pink Dogwood and Azaleas are blooming in the backyard - but it is a cool moist coastal day. Still I go for the fuel efficiency and saving the Nation from Saudi, Iranian and other bad guys' oil riches, and I ride the Trusty Triumph and smile as I roll on that throttle - one of these days I am going to slip and pop up into a Wheelie and go into shock. Over 15,019 miles when I return home.

What I was most looking forward to today was jogging, which is a good sign of my coming back to me, the one I liked better than that hibernating fatter fellow I have been. Most days I will walk thirty minutes or two miles, but never felt that was enough except to prove I could still walk - and it was always refreshing on my mind - and my wife likes to do that with me which is a bonus. Since Sunday morning I have been jogging daily and looking forward to that time breathing heavy and sweating well and slogging along like I was a reckless paratrooper of long ago and far away... well, in my mind any way.

When I returned from Nam in 1971 they stuck me in the 82nd Airborne Division, as a LEG, and I was so happy to hit the pavement daily and run Ardennes. It wasn't enough, when I went to Jump School in Fort Benning I had shin splints in both legs (fire bases in Vietnam don't have jogging tracks), but limping on both legs isn't noticeable. After getting back to Fort Bragg and into married I started getting serious about road work for conditioning for karate matches and general fitness. It stuck pretty good, and if I had really understood sugar, fats and health I wouldn't have done marathons at 240 pounds - when I should be a very healthy 180 pounds of mean ol' me.

No matter, I have jogged for the last four days and intend to continue through Friday, breaking for Appleseed Shoot on the weekend and starting Monday all over. I am only a little compulsive and not obsessive ever... maybe. I found forgotten coins on each jog, and today there was a young dog chasing along the fence barking at me furiously - I immediately identified with the older dog that came from his spot in the sun kind of limping along with deep Woof or two - just enough you know he is still in the game. Yep, still in the game. Time to go and work on the M1 and the firing positions and dream about long legged redheads or placing all my bullets in tighter groups... only one is a dream the other could be reality.

If you want it, just do it...

I have been wandering my mind and those of several others, looking for more than I have - it does seem like I am behind and never going to catch up - those obstacles keep getting in my way. The speed bumps on our street were softened today - more angle so you can roll over them at higher speeds and not bump, my wife will be happier. I ran into the bumpy changes in retirement accounts for Unions and organizations demanded by the Economic Stimulus Program - trying to build more cushion since the Market fled with the MSM and government panic. It seems that retirements have to be approved or that the retirement accounts have to be approved by the watchdogs in government before new retirements will be allowed to start. Control, more control, not fun...

Speaking of retirement, I have talked to two retirees, and one is making forty-two dollars an hour sitting at home instead of twenty-five dollars an hour sitting at work. His medical is going to rise soon, but that seems to be all he has to worry about in the near future - he has been dying of cancer for over ten plus years - he says he is way ahead of that game and has been blest. Another retiree told me that retirement was so you could spend more time with your grandchildren than you did with your children. I hear the sound of guilt there, but more time is interesting as an idea. I have worked twenty and twenty-five hours part-time a few times since 1994 and had lots of time for my own activities - art, jogging, chasing long legged red heads (okay, I didn't chase any, really) bad poetry and way too long letters. Except for making my week go too fast, and giving me plenty of money for paying bills I am not sure that full time employment is a real life improvement for this old elder man. My wife says something about when the mortgage is paid off, and that will be quicker than she thinks since all debts paid off mean that much is shifted to paying off the remainder.

The promise of Summer arrived today, saw it coming last night and woke to wonder of wonders, so I rode the Trusty Triumph and thought strange things: Drive By Work Day. When I looked at what I accomplished; with 257 circs, training the new guy and moving the ILLs out, in and onto the Internet and into our catalog and overdue notices and restrictions applied (more things getting in the way of circulation?) and the library lightly cleaned and visited by two DOC supervisors for effect, I could have been out on the motorcycle chasing long legged red heads. Or in reality, just making my day on the bike just too cool to ever stop grinning about.

In the more serious side of my errant thoughts is that sneaking hunch that I don't need the government as much as they really need me, cause I am not afraid of much except the Lord. So when Kevin passed the link to LIVE FREE OR DIE that he had picked up from GeekWithA.45. and I downloaded the Adobe copy to pass around to the computer free folks. Strange to think that there are people without computer access all the time... I am still reading about the Revolutionary War and Whys and Ways. Although another Robin Hood stands close in the background for picking up and getting lost in...

My younger neighbor, all Army, cut three yards and they all looked good when I got home, so I had to kiss my wife good-bye, eat my dinner and pull my mower out to play catch up - and don't you know it does look better now. But I still warmly remember riding my motorcycle back from work, so smooth, so wild under control, and the great grin that loves leaning deeper into those turns I stopped at the Credit Union to pick up checks and saw a little scooter my wife needs to zoom around town upon (nah, a Honda Rebel with attitude is what I think she needs). More bikes out this afternoon, and I suspect that many folks cut their work day short in order to be there when I rode by and flash me that secret squirrel inverted V sign. The promise of more Sunshine tomorrow, so I go jogging, rifle shooting for qualifications and love of the fusion of me, rifle and target, edging the walks, trimming the trees and cleaning up. I haven't figured out if old people don't see the dust because of poor eye sight, or they understand that life is about living not just cleaning up things that don't move enough to knock the dust off.

Speaking of which, get out there and dance - knock that dust off... before some one thinks you need dusted. The Cactus Patch doll in the picture was made by my wife in 1985, given to my mother same time, and until yesterday never dusted nor washed - but she's clean and fresh again, arms open for a big hug.

A sure sign of Spring sprung, shining Gold Wings!

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

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

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

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

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

Monday Morning Blues...

Well, no Blues really. I did have to get up and move quickly enough to see the doctor at 8:30, his office. I did wheel my motorcycle out on an empty stomach and ride through McChord AFB with my best reflective vest on under my loaded backpack with reflective belt. The military knows how to protect people, they load one down with stuff, certification and lock up the ammunition so when the Mongol Hordes show up no one can shoot them before they ride over your arrowed pincushion of a body. Just pile the heads over there as a marker, thanks. I really don't care about wearing the vest, I like solid reflective tapes to call attention to me and my motorcycle in the darkness, but I do think I am smart enough to figure that out on my own - doesn't take a General. Probably the same guy that says concealed carry will not be honored on his post/base (The Commander).

I was a little early, but they opened the door and allowed me to ground my helmet, backpack, leather coat with reflective vest. Then I get weighed, blood pressure measured (don't ask way too high since pretty young women are messing with my body and my mind isn't on the motorcycle), blood drawn and doctor comes in to talk, measure, tap, listen and tell me what is good for me. Gentle manner and I now know that exercise will kill me one day, but good that I have been exercising or I would be dead - I have a load of medications to return to, another appointment in June after Hawaii. I go out and put the gear back on, knowing the other old men in the waiting room are just jealous that I am riding a motorcycle into the beautiful day and adventures. The drug store explains how much of my medications are covered by my two medical insurances - my wife has three and still one has a co-payment, sigh. Can't wait for universal care, or actually I can wait a long time. If they had universal forms and medical records keeping for the patients I might be convinced they cared.

I get an eight grain roll and black coffee at Starbucks as I wait for the pills to be piled. Then I ride off to find every Sunny Day Chrome Shining motorcyclist in the McNeil Island Department of Corrections has filled the motorcycle parking lot, lovely - it is good I was wearing sunglasses, the reflections are blinding. It is a better day for motorcycling than library work, but I park, walk to the dock, ride the ferry and see my supervisor, my inmate clerks and patrons and work on through the day, until the ride home in the evening. I have an anxious waiting by the open garage door wife (?) and I know I am not late, but have a great grin for the picture and knowing that dinner is waiting, Salmon and vegetables, hot coffee and Monday Night Raw where we find out who won what at WrestleMania 25, which I was too busy and too cheap to pay for a view.

I am so centered on myself this Monday, that except for worrying about brother traveling to Mom, Mom preparing to move to North Carolina, milk pick up in New York and the state of shooting sports in the United Kingdom (right up there with Henry the VIII's jousting, I believe) I have no idea how Barack has saved me from those evil folks in North Korea with their ICBM launchers. Time for my breakfast gruel and exercise that will kill me.

The world didn't miss me, but that is okay...

I dropped off the world for a bit, didn't spend anytime on making it a better place, unless my absence was a positive thing. Five or six wargames yesterday, two today, I did watch The Patriot with Mel Gibson (it is almost Braveheart done in the late 18th Century). Read more about the Revolutionary War, and then Sunday I posted, went to church and then sank into dropping off the world again. This time I watched Waterloo with Rod Steiger and Christopher Plummer - when I say I am a certain pattern I do know what I am talking about. By time dinner was done and my wife was off to her church I was ready to break out -- so I did.

If this were a soap opera I would be off to find some foolish females, but they are stuck on television and the gossip columnist's page of the vanishing newspapers. I was out for the ride, and maybe some new warmer dryer gauntlets for the Trusty Triumph, tomorrow will have just above freezing waiting for me. The Eagle Leather was closed, they didn't know I was coming, so I continued my ride, hard and fast down I-5, then turning off to go to the bookstore - such a guy, such a library guy. I wanted a copy of Paul Revere's Ride, and the History of the Rifle (which is really American Rifle A Biography) I didn't find the second book but did run across Fusiliers : The Saga of a British Redcoat Regiment in the American Revolution, so I grabbed it and went to the non-fiction upstairs to see what was there -- and found the book I didn't have the proper title for. Now I always kid the inmate patrons about how if they don't know the title and author they will have to put up with whatever I find that could be close - and don't ask me to spell correctly for them either -- still I try, so did the sales people at Borders, I walked out a richer man for my gain, and helped stimulate the economy a bit more. Ever try to stick three books in their bag inside your leather bad boy jacket and not look like you should be riding an H-D Fat Boy, cause you are one? No, well, except for being a bit blocky in the belly I am sure no one noticed. Well, I have enough reading awaiting, and after the Beautiful Ladies get done talking on Korean television I get to watch the Iron Empress. Life is good.

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

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

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

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

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

How did my day go... well, I am a Rifleman... now!

It started out pretty good, beautiful weather, nice drive to Monroe, and we get to set the range up, three shooters and three instructors. I started with my M1, and for the one inch target my five rounds tore it up needed to move the sights slightly right, yes I dropped one. And then they went out, and their own way and I borrowed a rifle to fire the qualification with. Now I know more about 10/22s than I had before, but after cleaning up the magazines and ammunition I did on the second AQT make 219 and qualified for my Rifleman patch. Nice rifle but I want to fix the loosening sights on my M1 Garand, I do like it to work and I know it can do much better than I have been doing with it so far. Still, I - the shooter - did qualify and will get even better now the four minute mile has been broken... okay, just the 4 moa barrier. Will go over my documentation (BOOKS!) for guidance on the sights and locking them in. My next working with Appleseed is the 7th and 8th of March weedend, on the line, for my personal shooting I will have to work out on Range 15 of Fort Lewis on the weekends. I found shooting in the Carhartt Duck Bib Overall great! plenty of room, no pulse bump from constricted arteries and compressed fat, and the sitting position was easy to achieve a Natural Point of Aim and lock in and engage the targets. I will be doing all my serious rifle shooting in that gear - not that I am ever going to get that serious, but I might get some National Match sights for the M1 Garand.

Since it was such a beautiful Spring day and the motorcyclists were all out playing and traveling I stopped at a Harley-Davidson dealer to look at overpriced and very heavy motorcycles, HOGs - you know. I like some of the designs, but why the plastic look? gray plastic? is it a Glock thing? Anyway, if I were to advise H-D about their products I would get rid of the gray plastic plumbing look, but since I am not buying they are not listening. Oh, forgot to get Lotto tickets today I won't be moving off the Trusty Triumph any time soon. The best part of my visit to the dealers was the smile from the young lady, and I did nothing to deserve it but I smiled back anyway, she must have thought my bib overalls were cool... or that I was so harmless, like a grandfather... cool.

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

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

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

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

Scout Sunday here, and where you are, too...

So I get up early to attend the Men's Breakfast at the church, where we have invited the Scouts and their leaders. It is nice to make breakfast in the company of men and talk over coffee - about politics, foolishness and life in general. The scouts arrive and we eat and talk - I wonder where the Bobcat rank went in the Cub Scouts - some kind of Tiger Cub replaced it? I was a Cub Scout, and helped my son's den when he went through the Cub Scouts in Korea.

The best part of my morning was knowing that I am still charming the ladies. Rod told me that his grand-daughter has a special wish for her birthday. I bit and asked what that was. Grace, the charming five year old, wants a helmet so she can ride with me on my motorcycle. The long legged redheads are safe for a few more years - I have a whole new group of ladies to charm, and you don't have a motorcycle yet? Well, you have been warned, guard your daughters well.

As I step outside the fence yesterday...

I get released from Prison every day, and am going to keep working on that certainty. I had a loaf of oat bread in my backpack (prisoner bakery school) and the sky was beautiful blue and Mount Rainer gleamed bright whitely across the Sound behind Steilacoom. There at the top of the little hill is where that picture of me on my Trusty Triumph should be taken, on a great afternoon like it was. Seems like all my pictures of me upon it and the road are in a parking lot, rest stop and boring. And riding isn't boring, but then I am not selling the motorcycles and no matter how many times one watches The Great Race, or some such almost reality programming - we don't have a cameraman or woman taking our pictures of boldly beating hearts leaning into the turn and twisting that throttle to power back up.

There were lots of motorcyclists and wanna-bees on the road going home yesteday - no flashing inverted Vs yet, too cool to cold, too anti-social (think bears woken early from hibernation - irritated and hungry), and I am not checking but my own fine motorcycle has water and splash stains and marks from rain riding instead of polished mirror finishes. I am so about the ride, that I forget the minimum image maintenance - being old I want more miles and belly laughing smiles than envious stares from those that just wish upon my happiness. It will be two years on the twenty-fourth of this month, and I have my registration updated, and my insurance company wants more money, sigh, and the weathermen say rain and colder are on the way -- but yesterday going home was great, especially the neighbor's grandchild on his training wheeled bicycle looking over his shoulder at me on my bike coming behind him at the court turn around. The one time I could have used the blasting bellow of a Harley, have you seen the Iron 883?

Just Getting Started...

Came home to hot supper, hot coffee and mail. Too cool. Two motorcycle magazines, One renewal request from the AMA and look -- Birthday wishes, my mutual funds want more investment for 2008, my Credit Union sends me a Birthday Card - with good wishes, my sister sends me a Birthday Card with good wishes in spite of knowing me, and the Neptune Society wants to help me, too. Ah, well, WWE RAW rules my time this evening, take care out there.

I am a cabbage,

I went to church after watching CBS Sunday Morning - it was on but I wasn't. Practiced with the choir and looked at the pictures and displays for the 100 year Anniversary of the Spanaway Methodist Church, which had a circuit riding preacher for many of those years. After eating I decided that two miles to church wasn't half the fun of fifty miles going back home, not even one twenty-fifth of the fun. I pretended I had power and muscles and a girl friend waiting - the truth was more like the Trusty Triumph had power, and I went along and enjoyed the sunlight and cool, my wife would be many more hours later coming home. Lots of flashing inverted V's from other riders, save the bad dudes with bad attitudes - must have been ridin' Harleys. I get home eat a snack and fall asleep watching one network coverage of a Seahawk football game and wake to the Goodfather, and fall asleep and find myself watching the Sunday Night Football game - I have become a cabbage in the lazyboy recliner. Some one must have set me on 'day of rest' cause I have.

Ah, a day without real rain, quick get the bike out...

Yes, I did, grabbed the motorcycle boots and threw them on, opened the garage door and looked at that dry pavement - in the dawn's early light (yeah, PST!) and rolled the trusty Triumph out to idle waiting for me. I forgot a ballcap, and no matter how warm those gauntlets are, the wind chill from riding fingers folded forward, means frozen fingers! Did I mention Global Warming isn't really happening here? not today, Mount Rainer has a foot or more of new snow from the Pacific. When I had finished my 'to work' ride I stomped into the Depot and declared "So bold the fool with frozen fingers!" Warmed up a bit and walked down to the dock - slower pace and the cold doesn't get an assist from the speed of Earl walking. The ride back in the evening was better, the day was warmer, but I want to know why all those other folks are on the road all around me - don't they have somewhere else to be? So I got two rides in today, twenty-six smiling miles and laughing at the really good parts - and only thirteen colder than a well digger's ... whatever.

Almost November and Washington Winter...

Have been a lot of dry days, but the Sun is slinking off to the South and taking the migrating birds with it. I leave in the darkness and return just before the Sun sinks in the Southwest, somewhere over Hawaii. As it has gotten colder the temptation to drive to work in the Caravan looms, but then I would have to scrape the frost off of the windshield and driving doesn't make me smile and I have troubling zooming around corners in a lean with the engine winding up higher. It just doesn't work in the front wheel drive - four wheels on the ground lumbering beast.

Still, the temptation is there, I didn't put my motorcycle boots on this morning, I thought I was late by ten minutes of the normal starting time, and I was - but I can wheel the motorcycle out of the garage, start it, pack my lunch in the back pack and grab helmet, kiss the wife good-bye and hit the garage door switch (don't ask why I don't carry a remote with me - I am traveling light). Before I had checked for frost on the van's windshield I was on the motorcycle and rolling down the driveway to another adventure. A few days back the fog was thick enough to cut and stack off to the side, the condensation on the face mask didn't help visibility either, crack that face shield and get some cold air on it and me. It is cold, leather jacket, good gauntlets, scarf and maybe ski mask - if the road is dry I am going on the motorcycle. Days in the gray fog are the ones where I wish I had that brighter or darker color for the bike, but that passes.

As I ride I feel the road and remember the first tentative times turning at some corners, I am glad that they have finished the short stretch has been sitting grooved waiting on the finishing asphalt layer, I don't like grooves in my direction of travel - constant riding on edges - and grooves perpendicular are just little bothering bumps-s-s-ss... But enough dry days and the promise of an election mean the road crew puts down that solid smooth surface to lean deep into and power on and around upon... Nicely done, thank you all very much, another place to play. I have been riding aggressively, only slowing down for future stop lights when I have to, if I see it red it should be green by the time I get there - I do look that far ahead. If I have to slow then I really slow, scoring extra points for not having to full stop and place a foot on the ground (only I keep score, but I watch the other riders - many count the same points for the same slow).

I pull into the parking lot, find my space and shut down until later. I put a ball cap on and start the walk to the dock, so I am late, still I must stop and buy the three Lotto tickets (only fools, those with faith in more than themselves and the ones certain the government hates them but wants their money buying Lotto tickets - think I fit all three of those). Then I swing into the stride and get down to the dock, the canopy of maple and oaks have changed color and it is getting light enough to enjoy the sunrise on the leaves as I wade through them, rustling them dryly. Washington will be the Evergreen State, but the flaming reds, orange and burnt yellow and browns make a magic memory of the glory of Summer with the Sunshine and Blue skies, catch it before the real grim gray grips in gloomily.

Strange Monday

I am off to work early, an important visitor, the Program Manager and my supervisor will be dropping by to McNeil Island Corrections Center branch library - the one I keep. So I guess I am going in early and the crew is coming to work early so we can make the place wonderful.

I dropped off posting, I have been attacking the procrastination pile and control of my finances. Can't expect the new government, (we are changing all the current office holders in November's election aren't we?) to get control of spending without that I do likewise. No, I am not basing my life on the government, I need to be in charge for the coming complete collapse - of me, if not the world. Only two little things to finish, since I have finished the checking account - my wife's mutual funds and my savings account, should be done after lawn mowing tonight. Tomorrow I move a little money between accounts and we will be prepared for October's ghouls and ghosts and good stuff like motorcycles in the Autumn and shooting the M1 Garand - the ammunition is on the way.

Been doing lots of religious stuff lately, choir practice on Thursday evening after Methodist Men's Bible Study. We actually finished a chapter in one session - we drift and add and expound much on our personal points of view - we trust each other. On Saturday I drove my wife to the Baptist Men's Bible Study and a farewell to one of their members, he and his wife are off to Korea for one or two years. I was not comfortable, they pray in a different cadence than I do, but the Bible is the same read differently and they sang as loudly as they prayed, I was trying to sing my part (my choir director has ruined me for just melody) and they were just joyously booming upon the melody line. The food was massive and wonderful, always more than enough, always different and all of us had a good time. On Sunday I went motorcycling to church, it was perfect riding weather and Norman Rockwell was painting the day for the Lord. I was told by the preacher that I shouldn't stereotype and be so racially biased, but I live with a Korean lady that knows the most superior race is Korean (although I hold out hope for the entire Human Race) - it could have been a blanket sermon for the few that aren't comfortable with others (you know the kind I mean - those others). Since this lay preacher is a school teacher against guns, he has his own bias to overcome - I'll pray for him and invite him to go shoot with me someday.