The Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch

When I dropped out of college, I went to work for Automix Keyboards in Bellevue, Wa. They manufactured information feed keyboards for phototypesetters. They were one of the first in the US to use computer-in-a-chip technology. I ran a flow solder machine and did general machine repair and maintenance for a printed circuit board assembly area. The firm was very high tech for it's time. They had a Dee System 8 flow solder machine that was so advanced it wasn't even on the market yet. They had bought it as a prototype off the floor of a trade fair. It was a very well designed and efficient machine.

The keyboards were all Reed Switch actuated, and very robust, but pretty expensive. They were combined with the interface machine that allowed a single person to produce a multiple font, multi-color document, like a small newspaper, from a single terminal. Basically you can do the same thing from any computer now, but at the time it was innovative.

Our product was expensive. The same technology that is included in every computer available for desktop publishing cost about $20,ooo.oo at the time.

The consoles we made produced tape, Magnetic tape or paper punch tape similar to Telex tape, which was then fed into the actual phototypesetter.

I was staying late, repairing the pump in a Freon cleaning system that had a bearing go bad, and ran into one of the head Engineers. I asked him what he was doing there so late. He was literally pacing the floor and muttering to himself. "Waiting for the @#$%^&* punches to come in."

"What punches are those?" I asked.

"The Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch" he replied.

"What the heck do they have to do with Phototypesetters?"

"You know how the Keyboards and consoles work?"

"Sure, they use magnetic or paper tape to feed instructions to the Phototypesetters."

"When you are making a paper tape, each letter of the alphabet is represented by a combination of holes in the tape .Little pins feeding through holes in the paper tape to read the combinations. If you make a mistake, you have to correct the tape by manually punching out the line on the tape, creating a null. When we designed the machine, we had to have a unique size and shape of punch to null out the holes in the paper tape. On of the guys had a punch that he had laying around the garage, so we used that. We started up the business with that one punch, and we found someone to produce additional punches."

When we went to Patent out system, they found that the punch we were using was already patented. That particular size and shape of punch was patented by the Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch Co. and we were infringing on their patent."

The only address for the Perkins Co. was a P.O. box in rural Georgia. No phone, no address. The company sent a representative to Georgia to meet with Mr. Perkins. He lived in a modest shack out in the swamps. The punch was used to make a small hole between the tendon and bone in a chicken's leg so that they could be hung upside down for processing at the chicken processing plant. It had been invented by his dad as a young man, and every chicken processing plant had to have several. Replacement kept him as busy as he wanted to be, and he could work at his own pace. He made punches according to his own whim and time table.

If he wanted to buy a new pair of shoes, he could make up a couple of punches and mail them out to whoever was on the top of the order list, buy whatever he wanted, and stop until he needed something else.

Was he willing to sell the patent? Absolutely not, he had regular customers who depended on his product.

Would he allow us to manufacture the punches and pay him royalties? Absolutely not. He didn't trust us to maintain the quality control he infused in each and every Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch. What if inferior examples found their way on to the market place? What would people think? How could he trust us to faithfully report how many we produced?

So we were stuck with Mr Perkins. He produces the Punches at his leisure, and mails them out when he feels like it.

Here we were, sitting there with 10 completed units sitting on the loading dock, waiting for the punches to come in. We had no way of contacting Mr. Perkins except through his P.O. box, and no way to lean on him to step up his production.

I have always wanted to invent something like the Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch that would give me the independence to thumb my nose at the world, live off the grid, and have just enough to meet my needs as long as I didn't need too much.

Gone

I am in a computing class today and tomorrow, so I won't be around to BLOG much, just on breaks or lunch. However, I am working on something for Wednesday, a mildly amusing story about the Perkins Perfect Pocket Poultry Punch.

Hijacking

Someone hijacked my hit counter!

This is not the first time this has happened. In this case the counter content disappeared, but the box was still there. When I went into the template, the content had been replaced. If you clicked on the box in my blog, it took you to some travel site.

A pox on you, hit counter hijacker, whoever you are!

So I loaded a new one. No big deal, just a little irritating.

Handyman

Which is, of course a song by Roy Orbison.
Mrs. A. and I like rotissory chicken. We get one a couple of times a week. It is real convenient and tasty. About half the time we use the leftover chicken to make Chicken Caesar salad. This prompted Mrs A. to go out and buy a rotissory oven on Tuesday. Only problem was, that there was no outlet available to plug it in to.

Last night she comes in the door, and says "There is a box out in the car". The box is about 4' X 2' X 18" and weighs about 60 lbs. Being male and stubborn, I did not wait for someone to take the other end of the box, and consequently strained a muscle in my shoulder. The one I had operated on last October. I had already irritated it moving equipment at Echo Glen.

So I was faced with a sideboard cabinet/table to assemble. I am very good at that sort of thing, but it still took me two and a half hours to get it together. Mrs A. piped up when I was mostly done and said "You know there were two similar cabinets, and I think maybe the other matches the kitchen cabinets better". I made a very threatening gesture with the screwdriver.

I know she was just jerking my chain.

I woke at about 2:00 this morning with my shoulder killing me, and from there on just kinda drifted in and out. I had the wierdest dream, all about how I was supposed to be planning a wedding, and everything I did turned out all wrong. I don't even know whose wedding it was supposed to be.

Wierd.

Jumping to Conclusions

So we had a little disagreement at Alplace. Stepdaughter, boyfriend and Grandkid are living with us. They have been evicted three times in the last year, and have finally ended up with us. The arrangement is supposed to be temporary. We will see.
At any rate I know that they use drugs. When they were in Lakewood and we would visit, there would be paraphenalia and evidence laying around. What they do in their own place and time are not my immediate concern, but what they do in My place and MY time is.
I was sittin in the living room watching the tube on Monday, and a young dude that I have never seen starts walkin up the front walk. Nyk jumps up and goes outside and hands him what appears to be a joint. When Nyk comes back in, I ask him "Did you just deal dope out of my house? Because if you did you can pack your shit and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out". He told me it was not dope, just a hand rolled cigarette, and produced a bag of tobacco and papers. They got all huffy about they would not disrespect me by doing such a thing.
I pointed out that they had disrespected me enough to smoke pot on my front deck on Sunday, so it was only a small step. I think they were a little shocked that I knew. They of course blamed it on someone else. I just told them that I wanted to make it ABSOLUTELY CLEAR that if they stay with us, there would be no dope in my house or on my premises.

That aside, I went home after work yesterday and cut up a couple of pound of boneless skinless frier breast and put them on skewers with onion, green pepper and pineapple, basted them liberally with teriyaki sauce and sizzled them on the BBQ. Oh man, was that good.

Chapter III

Chapter III of my book is over at

STAR

for your perusal and approval or amusal and refusal. The pictures of the trip to Echo Glen didn't come out all that great. My digital camera definitely doesn't like low light. Also, we were not allowed to take pictures during the performance because if we included one of the kids in a picture, it would be a violation of their rights.

At any rate, they kinda show the process from truck to stage to sound check, to light check. The process took about five hours, which is real good time.

Over the winter John made a wiring harness for the lights, all taped up and numbered. It worked real slick, saved us a couple of hours of setup and breakdown.

PICS

Monday's Missives

I'm sore this morning. Mrs A. and I went with the band (

Morning Light

) to Echo Glen. Echo Glen is a Childrens Facility about a half hour East of Seattle, up in the mountains. Beautiful location. It currently housed just short of 200 juvenile guests of the state. Everything from drug charges to murder.
The band is all recovering druggies and alcoholics, and their message is that you can have a whole lot of fun without drugs and alcohol. It is also a Christian message. I really believe that it is the right message to the right audience at the right time. If we can help one kid turn his/her life around it is worth everything we put into it.
Mrs. A. and I have been doing this for a couple of years now, and it is a lot of work, and performing for the incarcerated is not the happiest venue. The band has 11,000 Lbs. of gear, and it takes several hours to set up a full light show and sound system. Bi the time we load up the truck, drive to where the show is, do the show, break down the set and load everything back in the truck, it is usually a 20 hour day or so.
The weather was very cooperative, everything went smoothly, and we had a good time.
Yesterday was so beautiful that I was forced to break out the BBQ for the first time this year. I BBQ'd a rolled rump roast. It was delicious. I insist on charcoal and a WEBER. Otherwise I will not be held responsible for the results. Let's let the fact that there were no leftovers for me to take to lunch today speak for itself.
No pictures yet. I haven't had time to transfer them from camera to computer.

Another Fine Mess

Which was always the line out of Laurel and Hardy, who were comedic geniuses. One of the few really good teams, and they managed to make the transition from silent film to the "Talkies".

I took yesterday off, because all hell broke loose the night before. The Ex is getting evicted from her apartment for not paying the rent. She quit working, just because she didn't feel like working. The former in-laws were trying to get R. to take her mother in. R. is living in a one bedroom apartment, and has a room mate (female) who sleeps on the couch. There is no room for her mom, which would violate the conditions of the lease.

R. doesn't want that side of the family to hate her, but there is no way she can be responsible for her mom (who is crazy). Her grampa had come over and asked her if her mom could't stay with her, and she didn't want to just say no. So she calls me up to figure out how to tell him no without there being any hurt feelings.

She is on the phone with me, in tears, and her mom shows up and is pounding on the door demanding to be let in.

The ex is being evicted today. Her dad has secured a storage unit for her things. She has no place to go and she has alienated all her immediate family to the point that they want nothing to do with her. I arranged for R. to pick up her mail. and told grandpa to back off. If that side of the family wants so bad to take care of her, let them rent her a house. The have the money.

Oh what the hell.

Tomorrow Mrs. A. and I go with the band for a gig at Echo Glen Youth Facility. It will be a lot of hard work and a lot of fun, and maybe something good comes from it. I'll try and get some pictures to post.

Nothing going on here

About the only thing going on here, is I have to go in and change the title on a truck I got for free. That's right zero, zip, zilch, nada. This will be the third trip to the DMV to try to get the title to the truck.

It was pulled out of a field. It was last licensed in 1998, and hadn't been used in a quite a while. It is a 1984 Ford F25o with a small block V8. No rustout, and only a little surface rust. And a collection of normal dents and scratches.

A family of mice had taken residence in the glove box, and had chewed up the old registrations into mouse confetti. I did manage to salvage a scrap that had the VIN number on it, which agreed with the number on the vehicle. So trip number one to the DMV. Could they give me the title? Not without a release from the registered owner. I didn't have any idea who that was, so could they provide me with the information? Oh no, you have to fill out for QXZ5678 Public discolsure form to get that information. I did, and the registered owner filed for a lost title, which she signed over to me. DMV visit number two.

I'm sorry, but you have no bill of sale. But I have a notarized statement that the title was lost, signed by the registered owner? Does this not strongly inply that they are releasing their interrest in the vehicle? Besides they gave me the truck for hauling it away! Oh, then you need a gift card.

The lady that was the last registered owner was nice enough to send me a bill of sale for $50.00, since I paid her daughter to bring the truck over to the house.

I now have $150.00 into the truck, have not gotten title to it, it does not run, it is not licensed and has not passed emission inspection.

Maybe free is not always a good thing.

Welcome to the Monkey House

Which is by the way a title to a book by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

It also describes our home lately.

Step-daughter L. and her companion and out grandkid are in the middle of finding new accommodations. So they are now residing in the spare bedroom. The last time this was tried, it ended in disaster. Mrs. A. and her daughter should not attempt to live under the same roof.

We helped them move on Saturday. They had been sharing a two bedroom appartment with another young couple, and it didn't work, so they came to us. Robert Frost in "The Death of the Hired Man" says "Home is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in" . Right on brother!

While we were moving, I took a load out to the Blazer, and when I came back to find Mrs. A. out in the hallway, looking upset. I overheard L. yelling "You don't disrespect MY mom!". I went to Mrs. A. and asked "Can I go in there and kick his ass?" I really really wanted to. But she told me to calm down and not bring myself down to his level, so I had to forego the pleasure.

I was ready. I mean I was not happy with the kids moving in, I was not happy about having to move them in the pouring rain, and I sure as HELL wasn't happy with their punk room mate disrespecting my wife. I still thik I should have gone in there and made his nose point in a different direction.

Sunday was Easter so I went to Church to keep centered. I was in dire need of some Churchifyin'. Everyone survived so it must have worked.

Chapter Two

I have always enjoyed writing and telling stories. One morning a couple of years ago I awoke with a name in my head. Starling Albright Parker. I have no idea where this name came from. I don't know anyone with any one of these three names or anything close to them. So I began to wonder what I should do with this.
I began by making her a family tree, some physical and psychological traits. I started writing a story, but it had to be written from a male viewpoint, since I am, and that's the way I think. I have messed around with this for several years and it has gone all over the place. I am now trying to get it all into shape. So here is Chapter Two :

STAR

Bad News

Perhaps some of you out there did not get your anticipated visit from the Easter Bunny this weekend. Unconfirmed sources close to the White (Rabbit) House leaked this picture, and I felt honor bound to report as news the alleged death of a certain white rabbit.

TGTS

I can't just say TGIF, because today being Friday means nothing in and of itself. It is the fact that tomorrow is Saturday that is relevant. So Thank God Tomorrow's Saturday.

I woke up at 3:00 this morning, convinced that today was Saturday. I was snuggling back down for another bout of sleep, when this nagging little voice in my head said "If today is Saturday, what happened to Friday?" When I couldn't produce a single memory of anything happening, I heard Mrs A. stirring and new she was also awake, so I asked her "Is today Saturday?"

"No."

Crap.

Not a good way to start the day out. Next thing I knew, the alarm was making this rude noise.

This weekend is Easter, the second most important Christian Holiday. The whole thing doesn't hang together without Easter. If Christ didn't rise from the grave, he was just a very astute man and an amazing philosopher. Without the resurrection He is still the most influential Philosopher of all time, but falls short of Godhood. The whole shape of history and society turns on this single event.

I am cooking a pork tenderloin glazed with cranberry chutney with asparagus and a salad for Easter. Lots of people are coming, but I like to keep it casual, so any time after lunch people are welcome.

Happy Easter everyone!

Habits

I was thinking this morning (a chancy proposition at any time). I was pondering about awareness, and the limiting factor of intelligence on awareness.
The reason I got on this subject is that this is one of those mornings when I kinda stumble around mumbling semi-coherently and suddenly I am at work, without a whole lot of memory of what happened in between. A lot of the time we operate on this semi-conscious level where we are on automatic pilot. We form habits so we don't have to think about stuff. Studies in Hypnotism suggest that on a subconsious level we are aware of a whole lot more going on around us than we actually know. When hypnotized, some people can recall things at a great level of detail, in fact more detail than they would have been able to describe when they were experiencing the moment.
It has been suggested that our mind is aware of everything going on around us, and that it is the chore of consciousness to limit out awareness to those things we need to deal with. Some psychological studies go on to say that really intelligent people are able to further limit their outside perceptions to the point where they can concentrate on a single concept or idea to the exclusion of almost all outside input.
If this is indeed true, then the super intelligent must be able to exclude even the thing that they started out to concentrate on, thereby making themselves oblivious. Certain asian philosophies are built around this concept, and where you experience the state of truely being unaware of your own ego, you are in a state of oneness of the universe.
So when I was stumbling around this morning I must have been a genius guru.

Picture

The picture I included in yesterday's post has been published by our local TV News Station on their website. They have a page called "Weatherpics" off of the weather home page at KING5.com where they publish weather related pictures. At any rate, I submitted mine, and they included it. I guess that is my 15 seconds of fame.
On other news, I have started another blog STAR . I have been working on this novel on and off for several years when the urge hit me. As an incentive for me to get off of my dead ass and do something with it, I started this other blog, where I will publish it one chapter at a time. First I had to edit it to divide it into chapters, and then I will polish each chapter before I publish it. I just published Chaper One.
Go ahead and click on it.
You know you want to.

Avenging Angel

So double click on the picture to make it larger.

Right over the top of the pole you will see Washington's State Bird, the mosquito, only this one is the size of a hang glider.

The picture was found in the memory stick in a digital camera next to a exsanguinated corpse. There were small puncture wounds above the carotid artery. It has been rumored for years that there was a new variety of mosquito in the area, but this is the first photographic evidence of it's existence.

First observed by Pat O'Neil, he reported "At first I thought it was an angel." Well, Pat it may be an angel, but a blood sucking Avenging Angel.

Seriously, though. I took this lovely sunset picture at Lake Quinault last Friday. I liked it so much I decided to make it my wallpaper on my computer. When I did, you can imagine my surprise at what showed up. Some times I think it ruins what is otherwise a perfect picture, but other times I think it is what makes the picture special.

A real lesson in perspective, in more than one way.

Cinco de Mayo

Most people don't know that back in 1912, Hellmann's mayonnaise was manufactured in England.
In fact, the Titanic was carrying 12,000 jars of the condiment scheduled for delivery in Vera Cruz, Mexico,
which was to be the next port of call for the great ship after its stop in New York. This would have been the largest single shipment of mayonnaise ever delivered to Mexico.
But as we know, the great ship did not make it to New York.
The ship hit an iceberg and sank, and the cargo was forever lost. The people of Mexico, who were crazy about mayonnaise,
and were eagerly awaiting its delivery, were disconsolate at the loss.
Their anguish was so great, that they declared a National Day of Mourning, which they still observe to this day. The National Day of Mourning occurs each year on May 5th and is known, of course,
as
Sinko de Mayo.

WHAT?!?!???

Pictures from Lake Quinault

Skunk cabage
A native American boat house
The dock at sunset
The Main Lodge
The Boat House
The fishing dock in the afternoon

Below is the view towards the Lake, down the side of the Boat house

At The Lake

It appears I have told an untruth.

Not a lie mind you, a lie being the intentional telling of an untruth. I told an untruth, but it was not intentional. This does not mean that I might not occasionally present the truth from my own unique perspective, just that in this case, it was unintentional.

The more perceptive of you will have already figured out what I am talking about.

In my buildup of The Lake Quinalt Lodge I said there was no WIFI. Since I am here typing on my BLOG, that must not be true. I brought along my laptop to work on a book I am writing, and (let's be honest) play games. When I fired it up, a message came on that there was a signal available, and did I want to use it. Heck yes!

Friday when we got here the temperature was up in the 60's the sun was shining,and it was gorgeous. For this time of year that is exceptional. We were tired fron work and tired from the trip so we went to the room and took a nap, then went for a short walk and went to dinner. I had the prime rib, she had the Salmon, and we had a bottle of Asti with dinner. When we finished I walked around and took some pictures of the Lodge the Lake and the Sunset. Some of them are good enough to share, which I can't do at the moment, since I forgot the adaptor from the camera to the laptop, which I figured I wouldn't need since I would have no Internet connection.

Today we went on a hike of about three and a half miles, mostly up and down. Mrs A has better legs, but I have better lungs, but we both did pretty well. I am a little stiff and sore this evening.

The other things we did, while they might be interesting, are not going to be shared. Suffice it to say people might wonder just why the people in 303 seem to always keep the shades drawn.

Of course this is the Rain Forest, so you can guess what it has done all day, but it hasn't bothered us, after all we came prepared with rain gear. And when in the unit, the sound of rain on the roof is very cozy and restful, since we don't have to go out in it.

Wait a minute?!

What's that?

You want to WHAT???

Guess I'd better sign off for now!

Temporarily Disfunctional

This is my current wallpaper on my computer at work. If all is well, I will be there tomorrow. That is the Amazing Mrs A. in the picture. In the background is Lake Irene in the Olympic National Park. It is a moderate hike of about a mile off of the road up the North Fork of the Quinault River. This day was perfect for hiking, so we had gone up the trail several miles, and stopped in at the Lake on out way back.

It was very serene there. There was a herd of Elk grazing in the rushes on the other side of the lake. A bumblebee landed on my knee, and sat there and let me pet him for several minutes. We did not see or hear another human being for the hour or so we stopped there.

It is interesting that women always want to know who the woman is in the picture, men always want to know where the lake is. Guess we are just wired differently.

So mybrain is leaving on vacation now, soon to be followed by the rest of me. I wont be posting for a couple of days, since there are no amenities like wifi or cable connections. The Lodge does not have television, and there are no phones in the rooms. There is no cell phone service. I will probably take my laptop along just in case I want to write on my book, but doubt I will accomplish anything. I am reading George R.R. Martins "A Feast for Crows" so it will be my first choice of activities after hiking and eating and naughty stuff (not necessarily in that order).

I'm taking the camera. hope to bring back some good pictures.

NO NOT OF THE NAUGHTY STUFF!!!!!!!

Lake Quinault

I remember a morning at the Lodge so clearly, it is a part of a little mental slide show I carry around in my head.

I had gotten up at 6:00 in the morning. We were staying in the Boathouse, so I went out on the veranda. It seemed like I was the only one in the world awake. The dew was heavy on the grass and there was just the faint smell of woodsmoke in the air.

I sat in a wicker chair and smoked a cigarette. It was so calm that the smoke barely drifted in the morning breeze. I blew a smoke ring and it held together for a long time as it drifted south.

Smoke finished, I got up and wandered down to the dock on Lake Quinault. The water was so calm it looked like a sheet of glass. Small fish were rising to the morning hatch, dimpling the surface here and there. Out in the middle of the lake, a bit of surface fog slowly drifted across the water. The far shore of the lake was obscured, cleared, was obscured. It was absolutely quiet.

I turned back to look at the Lodge and the rise of the lawn. Nothing moved. A sole set of footprints dotted the lawn. Mine.

I caught a suggestion of movement off to my left and watched as a pair of carp came out of the shadows, moving South, working the shallows. The must have been six or seven ounds apiece, moving with no effort, drifting along.

I heard a noise behind me, sounding like a splatter of rain and as I turned, caught the shimmer of a school of small fish jumped in a wave, a lot like when fans do "The Wave" at sports events. The wave of fingerlings jumping started at the North and went South. This was repeated multiple times, accompanied by a "Whish" sound as they jumped. No doubt there was a larger fish below them looking for his breakfast. I stood there, absolutely still, drinking in the moment.

Eventually all was still, and I wandered back up to the Boat House, and slipped in, to see you laying there, faint hint of a smile on your lips, hair spilled across the pillow.

I go back there to visit when things get cramped and complicated.

Happy Birthday Mrs A.

So today is Mrs A.'s birthday. She has now been 39 for several years, and I hope she will continue to celebrate her 39th for many years to come.

So the kids are coming over to celebrate her birthday, and it will be a hectic evening.

For her birthday, I am taking her to the Lake Quinault lodge for the weekend . No televisions or phones in the rooms. Lots of hiking trails and massive peace and quiet. Just what we both need. This is the place where we went for our first "weekender", where I proposed to her, and where we went after we were married. We have been back a several other times since. What a beautiful peaceful place. It is also out 3rd anniversary this weekend, so who knows, we may never leave the lodge.

Anyway, Happy 39th Birthday Mrs A., and many more.

New Deck

I have lived at AlPlace for about 15 years now. An extensive remodel was done shortly before I bought The Place. Unfortunately, the guy who did the remodel should have chosen some other line of work. It is obvious that no inspection was done for parts of the work.

I have some real homeowners terror tales to tell. The movie Money Pit comes to mind, but on a less grand scale.

AlPlace is on three floors and totals about 2580 Sq. Ft. Add on a couple of decks and 1/4 acre of crabgrass and dandelions, and that is my little corner of the world.

The main problem is that ever since I bought The Place, I have been fixing one problem after another. When something happens, it is always about ten times as hard to repair because what is wrong at the moment is only the tip of the iceberg.

Take the downstairs bathroom for example.

About six or seven years ago R. was taking a shower when this horrible screeching began in the bathroom. It was R., and part of the shower stall had fallen in on her. Now I suppose I could have gone and gotten a tube of Gorilla glue and just glued it back together, but I had always been uneasy about quality of materials and workmanship in the bathroom so I took it as an opportunity to check out the whole room.

After rewiring the entire bathroom, putting in a new sink and medicine chest, new flooring, a new shower surround and tile, and sectioning the wall up 3' all the way around the tub, four months and a couple of thousand dollars had disappeared.

That year R. gave me a Father's day card that said "How many fathers does it take to change a lightbulb?".

"Only one, but he has to replace the fixture, lower the ceiling and rewire the room, so it will take him several months"

Just about every project I have undertaken at AlPlace has been that way. Major problems hidden beneath a questionable surface.

Well, replacing the deck is the last major issue left at AlPlace. Oh there will always be a stream of minor things to take care of, but all of the major things will have been accomplished.

I just may have to sell it and start all over.

Back to the basics

I didn't post anything Friday because I was in a class half the day, and had a day's worth of work waiting for me when I got back.

Today I am tired, sore and grouchy.

Usually when I feel this way it is because I have done something like party too hard, but a WHOLE HOUR OF MY SLEEP WAS BRUTALLY TAKEN FROM ME.

Well, maybe not quite that dramatic, but it is gone and never will be recovered.

besides I am sore from my Sunday chore, pulling the toad. No, that is not what you may think. It's nothing like choking the chicken or spanking the monkey, or pounding the meat.

It means removing the toilet. I pride myself in being able to handle any chore that comes up around the house. I have rewired most of the house, replumbed the kitchen, completely rebuilt the upstairs bathroom, built a deck. The thing I hate doing the most is plumbing, and the lowest of the low is anything to do with sewer. I remember the time my ex said "Did you know that when you flush the toilet, water comes up in the back yard?" I still shudder.

The downstairs toilet is continually getting clogged. It is a modern low profile low volume device, so I suspected that it was the toilet design rather than a clogged line, but I have put off checking for better than ten years. That is a pretty accurate indicator about how much I dislike working on toilets.

But I finally got around to it, mainly because Mrs A. put it on the honeydo list. Since it had been in place since long before I owned the house, everything was rusted in place. Rather than being just able to disassemble things, I had to cut it apart with an abrasive wheel. And naturally there was no room to get at things, so I got to contort my body into all sorts of unreasonable positions. This did not go over well with my right arm, seeing as I had surgery on it in October, and while it is 90%, it is definitely not 100%. And that other 10% is always what I need when doing something while draped over the toilet trying to grind the head off of a bolt or something.

What should have taken about 30 minutes, instead took about four hours of cursing, swearing and sweating.

In the end, there was nothing wrong that I could fix. The problem was the design of the toilet itself. At least if I go to replace the toilet, it will be a piece of cake to get it out.

On more thing off of the to-do list.

Next big thing: design and build a new deck off of the living room. I might have to enlist help for this one.

My Life as a Chicken Hypnotizer.

So in yesterday's post, I put in that I was a Chicken Hypnotizer. I felt like a fisherman that had approached a perfect piece of water and floated a gorgeous dry fly, just KNOWING it would get a bite.

BUT NOOOOOO!

Not even a nibble.

Was it just too obvious? Or too far fetched?

Doesn't matter anyway. Once I have set down a particular path, I follow it to the end.

When R. was small, I decided that she could use a little experience in the feeding and care of farm animals, but since we live in a more-or-less urban area, although it is unincorporated, there are some restrictions on what you can do, not to mention the restrictions on space (I only have 1/4 acre).

I was tearing an old dilapidated deck off of the house, so I used the pieces to build a chicken coop in the back yard. Then we went down to the feed and seed store, and bought a couple of Banty chicks that became Rusty and Dusty, our two laying hens.

R was fascinated that without benefit of a male chicken for inspiration, they would produce eggs on a regular basis. Not only that, they weren't white or brown like normal store bought eggs, they were a grey-green and smaller. She used to like to take hard boiled Banty eggs to school because most people had never seen anything but regular eggs.

One day she had a couple of friends over, and she was showing them the chickens, and I asked them "Do you know it is possible to hypnotize a chicken"

"NO WAY! Could show us?"

So I did.

Later R. asked me "Dad, where did you learn to hypnotize chickens?"

As I have mentioned ad nauseum, we had a farm, and raised all kinds of things. We always had two batches of chickens, One batch of laying hens, one batch of fryers. One of the kids jobs was to go out to the hen house in the morning and gather the eggs and feed the chickens. It was always a little like a treasure hunt, because you never knew what you were going to find, Taking the eggs away from the hens could be an adventure too, as some of them took objection to us removing their eggs. After all it wasn't easy producing them.

The fryers life was short and pretty good. They were fed and watered and didn't have to produce anything to earn their keep, just put on weight. The down side was that before things froze up in the fall, would come slaughter day.

Everyone hates slaughter day. It is nasty, smelly work, but it puts food in the freezer for all winter.

The little kids were chicken catchers. Grandfather was the headsman. Uncle Fred and Dad were the gutting crew, and everyone else were Chicken Pluckers. It was our own little assembly line.

My job was Chicken Hypnotizer.

After the little kids caught a chicken, they would bring it to me. I would stick it's head underneath it's wing and then pump it (the whole bird) up and down for about 30 seconds. Then you could set it down on the ground and it would stay where you set it. Eventually it would sort of shudder, pull it's head out and look around like "Where the hell am I?", but on slaughter day, they generally never came around. If they started to, I would just grab them before they got any ideas about running off, and rehypnotize them.

It always caused me to wonder "How did someone figure this out? It would seem logical that it would be someone who wanted to transport chickens quietly and easily. Like maybe a Chicken Thief? How did my grandfather, who was from the hills of Kentucky and taught me the fine art of chicken hypnotizing happen to be in possession of this particular bit of information?"

I never did get around to asking him this. I'll bet he learned if from his grandfather, too.

I have always wanted to put this on my resume'. Chicken Hypnotizer. That alone should be good for a first interview, and once you get your foot in the door anything is possible.

I have never found a use for this very rare skill in the modern world. I mean you can't exactly pick up a newspaper, and there on page 13 of the classified ads you find "Wanted: Chicken Hypnotizer. Full time. Full benefits. Must be experienced. Top Wages."

Any one need a perfectly good barely used Chicken Hypnotizer?

Claim Jumper

I confess, I am a claim jumper. Not one of my most notable accomplishments, such as Chicken Hypnotizer (I always wanted to put that on a resume'), but something that not everyone can say.

When I was in college I wanted to build a cabin in the woods. A place to get away from everything a la Thoreau. Since I live within driving distance of a lot of National Forest, a couple of friends and I did a little research on the mineral laws of the area.

If you have a working mineral claim on National Forest land, you can build a cabin on it so you can work your claim.

Once it has been established that there are minerals on the claim worth recovering, you can claim the land, build your cabin. To keep the claim active, all you have to do is either do $100.00 worth of improvements on the land, or extract $100.00 worth of minerals. Neither one is very difficult to do.

So how do you establish that there is mineral content on your chosen piece of property?

With a little research, we found an area alongside Blewett pass that has placer gold claims all over the place. Most of the mineral content has been mined out, but the claims are still there.

We went to the Hall of Records, and searched for a claim that had not been filed on for five years, and filed a new claim over the top of the old one (Claim Jumping). Then all we had to do was go out to the claim and put our marker in place, and Voila' we were mine owners.

Our claim was at the confluence of Pipe and Swuak Creeks, was fairly level, and would make a wonderful location for a cabin.

We started making plans for the cabin, water supply, heat.

Then one day as I was reading the paper, I saw a notice that the area on both sides of the road through Blewett Pass had been declared a National Scenic Area, and no new construction would be allowed within 1,000 feet of the hiway.

We had missed our window of opportunity. If we had gone and thrown up a tarpaper and plywood shack, we would have been allowed to improve it, but as things were, we just missed it.

And here I had become a Claim Jumper and gotten nothing out of it. We went over and panned a little gold, just for the fun of it, but let the claim revert to the State.

Thus ended my career as a Prospector/Claim Jumper.

OH Yeah

I'm a Ferrari 360 Modena!

You've got it all. Power, passion, precision, and style. You're sensuous, exotic, and temperamental. Sure, you're expensive and high-maintenance, but you're worth it.

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

No Mexico

Looks like we won't be going to Mexico in August like we were hoping. Two things happened simultaneously.

First, Step-son R. called, and he has an opportunity to get into his own home. He is a little short on the down payment, so the money we were setting aside will be going to him for the downpayment. We have spent a lot more for the other kids on things that didn't have such a positive reason, like divorces and DWIs.

Right at the same time, my uncle Ben e-mailed to say that the house would not accommodate all of us at the same time. Looks like it was not in the cards for us to go this time.

Not bad for a Monday

The reason today is not a bad day for a Monday, is the weather is great, and I didn't go to work. Not that I was sick or anything. V. had a medical appointment and they told me to schedule a couple of hours, and it didn't make a lot of sense to me to get up at zero dark thirty, work a couple of hours, get off and go to the appointment, grab sone lunch and go back for a couple of hours.
Besides, I ironed out the electrical problems in the Z and it needed a shakedown run, and I needed to get new tabs for it, too.
A good enough batch of excuses huh?
No, really!
You know you would have done the same!

OOOHHHH The lights!

We have a light tower right behind my work area that is a status tool. Green light on the bottom, yellow flashing light in the middle, magenta light on top. It is an airplane status indicator.

The light system went coo-coo this afternoon. All the sudden, all the lights went on at once. We had no indicators that anything was wrong, just all the sudden all the lights went on. Shortly after that the phone started ringing from people who wanted to know what was going wrong.

After about the third call I was less than enthusiastic with my replies. After about the ninth it became: "We are currently experiencing a disturbance in the space/time continuum which is causing crossover between the coils. This is allowing crossover between alternate realities, allowing several different expressions of reality to exist simultaneously. Thus the airplane is well, we are investigating a problem, and the line is stopped all at the same time. Either that or by the principle of Occam's Razor, the light is F%^&*()ed up."

I know visitors to Alville will be shocked that I stooped to sarcasm, but we all have our off days.

At least I didn't break out the dead blow hammer and can of Whoop Ass.

Mexico?????

I received an e-mail from my cousin, Ginger yesterday saying that she and her husband and my Uncle are going to Mexico in August to visit my Unle Ben and Aunt Pat. He is a History Professor at the College of Michoacan in Morelia. She asked if Mrs A. and I would like to go along.

I have been wanting to go back ever since Mrs A. and I went down there on our honeymoon.

Trouble is, we are already going to Mexico with a Church group in July, so getting the money together for both trips will stretch the budget to the max, but it is doable.

My first impulse is to just go for it. An opportunity like this doesn't come along every day. The airfare is about $2200.00 for V and me and Mrs A., but once we got there, we would be staying with my Uncle, so no hotel fees. We would be expected to take them out to dinner and stuff, but a dollar goes a long way down there. I figure we would have about $800.00 spending money. I don't see how we can turn down the opportunity, even if it means we eat bread and beans for a while.

Got to practice up on the essentials

"Otra cervesa por favor!"

"Donde es el bano?"

Fortune

Your Fortune Is

Man with hole in pocket feel cocky all day.

The Wacky Fortune Cookie Generator

So I stole this from Daphnewood. The fortune generator, not the fortune!

I did not do anything to influence the fortune generated, so I won't be held responsible.

GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER. YEAH YOU! YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! KEEP YOUR HANDS IN PLAIN SIGHT!!

Mayhem and Chaos

I was going over to pick up my daughter yesterday so she could do laundry and cut my hair. As I went along the way, I passed a house that had several cop cars and a couple of TV crews. The house was cordoned off with crime tape. They were still there when I came home.
We turned on the news when we got home, and found out that one of Vs classmates had murdered his grandmother. We are talking a 13 year old kid here. It raises all sorts of questions for which I have no answers.
What drives a 13 year old to kill? Medical evidence says that the frontal lobe is the last part of the brain to develop. Therefore teenagers are only marginally capable of rational thought. My personal observations agree pretty closely with this. Neighbors say he complained that his Grandma wouldn't let him go out and play until he did his homework. Yesterday was the first day on Spring and a beautiful day. Sounds like ample reasons for killing your Grandma to me!
Do you try him as an adult? Tough one to call. Some 13 year olds are just little kids, some are pretty mature. The law suggests that if you are capable of formulating a plan and executing it, you can be tried as an adult. If you try a 13 year old as an adult and he is convicted, you have put him in the great garbage can of society. The chance he can ever become a functioning member of society is so slim as to be non-existent. But if you try him as a juvenile, he basically gets away with murder. He goes to some summer camp of a detention facility for a couple of years,, gets counseling and gets out at 18. Has he been punished and rehabilitated? Or has he been taught how to be a more effective criminal?
V. has this great underlying rage. There are times you can see it peeking out from under his actions. He is a pretty passive kid, but if you are observant, it is pretty obvious. The fact that he is failing two classes is because he doesn't like the classes and teachers. Not doing or turning in his homework is a direct manifestation of his anger.
So Thursday night he gave me his latest progress report. Two Fs. I asked him to explain to me why he was failing, but he couldn't or wouldn't explain. So Friday night I made him sit down with a blank piece of paper, and told him he needed to explain to me why he was failing. He told me he didn't want to. I told him I really didn't care if he wanted to or not, he was going to. After that it only took a couple more hours to get him to actually DO anything. At the end he wrote a half a page. It scared the crap out of me. Such vitriol!
It would be just peachy keen fine with him if the majority of his classmates would die, and he wouldn't do a thing to prevent it. Might even help initiate it. Ditto for some of his teachers. I knew there was this underlying rage, but I had no idea it was this pervasive.
At any rate I called up our Health Care Provider yesterday and set up for him to see a Psychologist at an Adolescent Treatment Facility. I am not forcing this on him, this is something he has agreed to. He knows he is unhappy and angry, but has no idea what to do about it.
Maybe they can give him some answers.

Spring

Today is the first day of Spring, Wahooooo!
I love it when the flowers start coming out and things start budding and blooming. We have some crocuses blooming and I have a Tibetan Magnolia that is budding. Can't wait for all the Spring flowers to bloom. The ornamental cherry and early plum are in bloom, as well as the forcythia.
Had a real good weekend. We finally got around to making egg rolls. So we made like 120 egg rolls while we watched "Good Night and Good Luck" which is the story of Edward R. Murrow and his group standing up to McCarthy in the 50s. Man they had some cojones! McCarthy was one of the most powerful men in the U.S. at the time, and was the head of the House Committee on Unamerican Activities. They were a bunch of commie hunting fanatics who would have done well in the Salem Witch Trials. Good Movie, but not real entertaining.
Then on Sunday we had out daughter R. and her friends over for a late St. Patrick's Day dinner. Corned beef and cabbage with potatoes and garlic bread. I'm afraid I overindulged in the spuds.
So today would be the Equinox, right. Day and night of equal length.

St. Patrick's Day

So Happy St. Patrick's day. Go hoist a pint. Today everyone is honorary Irish.

I grew up believing that we were Irish, mostly. Oral history held that the Warrens came over fro Ireland with Lord Baltimore's son and helped found the colony of Maryland in like 1695. It was with great dismay that I found out that the Warrens that migrated were most likely English Catholics, not Irish at all. From there I discovered that the Warrens were probably not English either, but Norman. The duc De Varren participated in the Norman invasion of England and the Warrens were minor nobility in England.
Holy crap!
I was more likely related to The Sheriff of Nottingham than Robin Hood! My whole idea of who I was came crashing down. Not able to leave it there, I trudged on through History.

The Normans were the people living in Normandy. The land in that part of France had been ceded to them by the King in a treaty, mainly because he couldn't control them. The were the "North Men" or Normans. The northern coastal region was occupied by the invading and raiding Vikings, who intermarried with the locals and controlled the area.
Now this I could identify with. Raiding berserker Viking. Oh yeah!
Luckily my mother's side of the family had some Irish in it, so now on St. Patrick's day I can be an Irish/Norman Berserker Viking.

Have one for me.

Underwear Story

So, when I stopped by The Peanut Queen's Blog this morning, she had posted this hilarious underwear story http://stacy68.blogspot.com/. This brought to mind an underwear story of my own:

Bats in my underwear

My first wife, the truly evil Mrs. A. and I had just gotten married, and were staying at her parent's cabin on Herron Island. That is not a misspelling, the island was not named after the bird, but Captain Herron who had owned the island at one time. We were sleeping on a hide-a-bed couch in the living room and had stayed up late watching horror movies. All the sudden she stiffens up and whispers "There's something in here." Being the sensitive, caring guy I am I said "Yeah, sure. You've just been watching too many scary Movies".
"No there it is again!!!."
"Holy shit, you're right!"
All I was wearing was a pair of old ratty jockeys, but I jumped up and flicked on the light. There was a bat flying around the inside of the cabin looking desperately for a way out.
There was a salmon net on the wall, so I grabbed it and started swinging it around trying to catch the bat. Jumping on furniture, knocking things over, Mrs A. screaming at the top of her lungs.
Of course we woke up her parents. So here they come tearing out of the bedroom to the sight of their brand new son-in-law running frantically around the living room in nothing but his jockeys waving a salmon net in the air. They didn't see the bat right away, so they must have thought I had lost my mind.
About this time the bad found a way out and everything settled down to the point I realized I was standing there half nekkid in front on my mother-in-law with a salmon net in my hand. I started laughing my ass off, thereby convincing them that I had lost my mind, an opinion they never fully recovered from.

Family

No one can get under your skin quite like family. Mrs A. and daughter-in-law have been at war since Thanksgiving. I adopted my grandson V. several years ago. At the time my son was not in a position to be able to take care of him. Since then he has remarried, and when he did, I let V. go live with him and his new wife. Soon after they got married we started receiving complaints about how difficult it was to raise a kid. Those complaints accelerated until we were asked to take him back, which we did. I was extremely disappointed in the situation, but I love my grandson and if it is my fate to raise him, I will embrace that challenge.
DIL didn't talk to V. for six months after he came back to live with us,because "her feelings were hurt". Then she got in touch and said she was better, so she wanted to start seeing V. again. She wanted to be his "mom". She didn't want to raise him or discipline him or be responsible for him, she just wanted to be free to come and get him whenever it was convenient, reap all the rewards of being "mom" and then dump him back on us. We let her know that she could have a role in Vs life, but that it wasn't "mom". Mom is the one that gets him up in the morning and off to school, makes him do his chores, is there for him 24/7. That is Mrs. A. and she is the only one in his short life that has really filled that role. So Mrs A. tried to make amends, and it cost her a lot of effort to let by-gones be by-gones. I was proud of her that she had the grace and fortitude to make that step. Unfortunately DIL has very nastily refused any overtures of reconciliation.
So, this morning I sent an e-mail to DIL to say that she had effectively resigned as Vs "mom" when she sent him to live with us, and so she has no say in any decisions regarding him, that I will back Mrs. A. one hundred percent. It may be that this will cost me my relationship with my son, but if he chooses to support her childish behavior, so be it.
Damn this all sucks!

Full Moon

I came in this morning, and right out of the box, went into full tirade. We use 16 channel radios to communicate with each other. It saves a lot of time and walking to just be able to turn to the appropriate channel and talk to whoever you need to. My flow day has about 18 radios. They need to go back on the charger at the end of shift for a couple of hours to recharge. When I got in this morning there were 8 radios in the charger. The top charger had four radios in it. Only thing was, the whole machine was unplugged. Now the machine has lights that come on when you plug in the radios, so if you plug in the radio and no light comes on THIS IS A CLUE THAT SOMETHING IS WRONG.
The other four radios were jammed in the chargers in such a way that they were not making contact with the charging electrodes, hence, no lights were on and the radios were dead. This is not rocket science. This is not even science 101 (Bonehead science). So I went off. I feel much better now.
I noticed that everyone I had run into this morning was in a pissy mood, so I checked my official Lord of The Rings Calendar, and, sure enough tonight is a full moon. So I have read and seen that there is statistical support for Lunacy. Increased admissions to Mental Institutions, Increased Suicide rates, increased domestic violence on the full moon. Anyone have any observations?

I've been tagged.

So I got tagged by An extraordinary Woman (AKA Already A legend).

The rules:
List 7 songs you're into right now. No matter the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag 7 other people to see what they're listening too.

I listen to a lot of music, so the list will include CD's not just individual cute. I suppose I will list my current favorite on each CD.

Gary Moore, Power of the Blues, There's a Hole (Where we used to be).
KT Tunstall, Eye to the Telescope, Black Horse and the Cherry Tree
Marcia Ball, Presumed Innocent, You make it Hard (To Love you)
Duke Robillard, Rockin' Blues, Duke's Mood
Joe Satriani, Strange Beautiful Music, Sleepwalk
Keiko Matsui, Deep Blue, Across the Sun
Acoustic Alchemy, American/English, The Moon and the Sun.

As you can see, my list of people to send it to is woefully short, so I don't think I'll be sending it along. I need to work on that. Maybe tonight.

All is well in AlVille today. I had my stiches out on Friday, and although at the time it felt like they were pulling my entire nervous system out through the roof of my mouth, it only took about 24 hours for things to settle down.
Went to the Church on Saturday for a meeting about the trip to Mexico. Things are beginning to firm up a little, but a long ways to go before we are ready to leave. At least we have until July.
N. Came over on Sunday, and we worked on the truck . We had it THIS CLOSE (two fingers 1/8" apart" to running, so I have no doubt we will get there. I also worked on the lights and wiring for the "Z" and got everything in good enough shape that I drove it in to work today. Man, I love driving that car. Corners like it was on rails, and a top speed of around 150 (MPH). Mind you I haven't ever had it up quite that high. The fastest I ever went was around 110, at which point Mrs. A reached over and sunk her white fingers in my leg while yelling "Honey!!!!!!!!!!!) I think the marks might be permanent. I also had it up around that speed on the track, but was too busy driving to look at the speedometer.

TGIF

This was a tough week. I am running around with about 30 stiches in my mouth from Periodontal surgery, Mrs A. has a nasty cold, so does V. CPS called about L. and the kids. Tonight after work I get to go in and have the stitches taken out of my mouth. You can bet your booties that I will be making an entry in the brain cell demolition derby after I get home. Nah, just a medicinal application of an external and internal anesthetic. I have to much to do this weekend.
Tomorrow we have a meeting at the church. We are sending a mission to Mexico for a week this summer. We are going to go, and take V. It will give him an appreciation of what he has when he sees how people live when they don't have the things we take for granted, and also sees what a group of people united in their faith can accomplish. Not your usual Mexican vacation
Sunday N. is coming over and we are going to attempt to get the truck running. It can't be anything major wrong, but I haven't tracked it down yet.
Y'all have a great weekend.

Just another day in Paradise

Mrs A. has a nasty cold. I think I have mentioned previously that she is not a good patient. Her job is very stressful, so when she is not feeling well, it is best to stay out of her way. When I got home last night there was a message on the phone for her to call CPS (Child Protective Services) concerning her daughter and grandkids. We don't have any idea what specifically is going on, but that is one of those phone calls that has no possible good result. I have had the misfortune to deal with CPS before, and I have a pretty negative opinion of most of them. Power with no accountability is seldom a good situation. I know there have to be good, reasonable, caring people in the system, but I have not dealt with them. A good part of the reason I have adopted V. is to get him the HELL OUT of the system. Mrs A. and I had to talk about whether or not we could take in the grandkids, and the preliminary decision was no. Subject to change at any moment, depending on the circumstances. It's not the kids fault his parents are flakes, but we are stretched to the max already.

Jigsaw

OK I admit it, I do jigsaw puzzles sometimes. I don't particularly like television, and I usually read books instead, but sometimes when I'm not feeling well, I don't have the concentration to read. Jigsaw puzzles are a good compromise. Growing up, we always had a jigsaw puzzle going on the card table. Anyone walking by would stop and put a piece or two in. It was a no stress no competition family activity. So when I'm not feeling particularly well, it is a calming, soothing activity that doesn't require a lot of thinking. Basic color pattern and shape recognition.
So Here's my Jigsaw Puzzle Joke.
One of my co-workers received a jigsaw puzzle for Christmas. Being an Engineer, he is sort of obsessive/compulsive, so it was an activity that appealed to him, making sense out of a pile of seemingly random pieces.
Well, he became obsessed with this one puzzle, so he took a leave of absence so he could finish it out without interruption.
When he completed the puzzle, he threw a party and invited everyone over.
Midway through the party, one of the guests asked him "Why the big deal?" he replied "It only took me six months to compete the puzzle, and it says right on the side of the box 'FIVE TO SEVEN YEARS'"

Monday Morning Coming Down

I believe that is the title to a song by Chris Christopherson. I managed to make it in this morning despite having oral surgery on Friday. I just had to forego the pain killers. Percocet does a real good job getting the pain down, but it effects my equilibrium, so I really don't like to drive when I take it. Since it has been a couple of days since the surgery, the pain is beginning to subside anyway, or it was 'just say that it is probably not the best idea to eat an orange when you have partially healed incisions in your mouth. It will definitely get your attention.
V. went to a bible camp this weekend, and had a great time. V. is my grandson, whom I have adopted. His early life was pretty messed up and confusing, but I have had him for seven years now. Some of his attitudes are a result of bad experiences earlier in his life. One of them I have been battling is his attitude towards church.
Carol and I are Christians, and Church is an important part of our life, so getting V. engaged with church is important to us, but I know very well that too much pressure will only result in him getting his back up. He hated going to church on Sunday, but I sat him down one day and told him "Look, you are making yourself miserable with this. As long as you are living in my house, you will go to church on Sunday, so you might as well resign yourself to it. I would not be doing my job as a parent if I didn't see that you got educated about religion, just as much as if I didn't send you to school to learn academics. Since our society does not allow the school to teach you about God, you have to get it somewhere else." While I am quite sure he didn't agree, at least he shut up and went. Well a funny thing happened. As he got to know some of the other kids from church and started to get engaged, he started to WANT to get involved. He actually brought up the idea of going to the youth meetings during the week, and asked it he could go to Bible Camp this last weekend. I guess some times you get it right. He had a great tie and is asking if he can't go back for camp this summer.

I got the Chair

Just back from the Periodontist, and things are a little fuzzy around the edges, so pleaase fogive me if I am not too focused. I should probably just go lay down, but it is such a beautiful day I feel frustrted with just laying around. Maybe if I get my ballance back, I can get out and work on the Z. right now I feel the urge to go and lay down,

Hump Down Day

Today is, of course, Hump Day, but for my flow day, it is also a down day, which means there is no airplane in this position. It is a day to catch up on things, do maintenance, and complete training and certification requirements. I have a bunch of required Lean Manufacturing training to take care of, but it is pretty boring and I can only get one done at a time before I get really drowsy. So far I have completed eight of the ten requirements.
So one of the things I do, is occasionally when they bring tours through the factory they stop in my area, and I explain to them how lean manufacturing is supported by the shipside support process. Yesterday, a tour came through from Bloomberg News Service. As they approached, one of the mechanics put in an item to the SAT system, which turned the status light yellow, I processed it and sent it on its way and the light turned green again. They came over and wanted to know what had just happened, so I had to explain the whole thing to them.
At the end of our discussion they asked if they could quote me. With the approval of the Boeing rep, I told them OK. SO, coming soon the something or the other my words may be quoted in some manner or the other.

You'll get the Chair!

An Apropriate title for a couple of reasons. I had a dental appointment yesterday, which was a warm-up for Friday when I have oral surgery scheduled. This is number three of four. Man, I am not looking forward to this. But both the dentist and the periodontist tell me that if I don't have it done, I may as well just have all my teeth pulled and get it over with. Thanks, but I'll keep what I have.
the other reason is that I was on my way to the Periodontist and saw a familiar looking vehicle in the other lane. Sure enough, it was my ex. I haven't seen her in a couple of years, and it would be fine with me if I never saw her again. At any rate, given what she did to R. the other day, I really wanted to run her off the road and into the river. Well, I managed to resist the urge. I even managed to resist the urge to honk the horn and flip her off as I went by.
I better get points in Heaven.

Blue Monday

So there was this really annoying noise this morning at 4:53. After I realized it was not going to go away if I just ignored it, I became conscious enough to hit the snooze button on the alarm. That worked so well that I did it a second time, but after that it was no longer possible to ignore the obvious, so I turned on the light and groaned my way vertical.
On Friday befoer we went out of town, we sold Mrs. A's treadmill. When she decided she needed it, I told her no about a half a dozen times. I told her "We will have for about six months and quit using it and then it will just be in the way." I finally got worn down and told her to go ahead and but it if she could pay for it, so she did. Very nice Nordic Trac 1900 with all the bells and whistles for over $1,000.00. One year old and barely used,we got $500.00 I bit the inside of my cheek and avoided saying "I told you so", as the consequences would far outweigh the momentary pleasure.
Mrs A. has been after me to get new furniture for the living room, but I have been putting it off, because I fully understand the consequences. I mean, if you could just but the furniture and put it in, that would be different. It just doesn't happen that way. Introducing a new element into a closed system always results in chaos. In the living room I have a nice leather couch which is very comfortable, but it will be bumped by the new set out to the music room where it bumps the love seat someplace. This move also meant the opportunity to bring my Teak entertainment center up from the basement to replace the cabinet where we have been stirring the taped and dvd's, which goes back in the basement to be used as a book case.
The new furniture will also bump the Big chair out of the living room and probably upstairs to the spare bedroom.
The new furniture is being delivered, so that's no problem, but guess who gets to do all the other furniture moving.
So Saturday, I took all the books out of the Entertainment center, dismantled it, put it back together. It took me all day. Shady I took the video cabinet downstairs and started putting stuff in it.
Half way through all this Mrs A. turns to me and says "Do you think the entertainment center is going to fit in with the new furniture. I made choking motions with my hands and moved towards her. I said "You know I think they would call it justifiable homicide, and if I get an all male jury I can probably get off scott free

I'm BAAAAAACK

So vacation was a hoot, as usual. Mrs A. and I always have a great time when people GO THE HELL AWAY AND LEAVE US ALONE. More on that later.

The weather wasn't great, I mean it is February in the Northwest, which translated as rain. But you know what? WE DIDN'T REALLY CARE! As the old joke goes, I ordered a dozen oysters, but only ten of them worked (nudge, nudge, wink, wink). We did manage to wedge in a nice walk on the beach and a day at the shops and galleries in Canon Beach. Came away with a really cool glass globe. Of course there were the mandatory stops at the Tillamook Cheese Factory and the Tillamook County Smokehouse (Makers of the worlds best beef jerky.) And of course our stay was not nearly long enough.

So when we get back, L and kids are getting evicted from their apartment (again). We bailed them out the last two times, so this time they are going to have to figure it out for themselves. If we don't force them to make a change in their lifestyles, like using the money to pay the rent instead of buying drugs, they aren't ever going to change. I know, I sound tough, but guess who always caves in and saves their ass from the Indians.

So I was married to a crazy woman for 28 years. I know all men think all women are a little off center, and women think the same about men, but I mean real crazy. Paranoid schyzophrenia crazy. Psychotic at times. She wasn't full fledged crazy at first, but she was very creative, which I love. Turns out that the creative impulses came fron the same place the voices did. When it got to the point where she was actively trying to do me and the kids harm, I told her if she didn't get help, I was going to divorce her. She went to a shrink one time and came back and said "They're all crazy there." And refused to ever go back. Right after that I went to get a hug and she went totally nuts, started hitting and screaming and grabbed my arm and bit a chunk out of it. She did things like jump up and start stomping on the floor. When I asked her what she was doing, she said "The people in the basement are poking knives up through the floor."
So after we got divorced she went to live with her dad. He eventually had to have her declared incompetent and had the court appoint a guardian. She gets some kind of Social Security money and has a small apartment in the same complex as out daughter R.
When we got back from vacation I got a call from R. to see how the trip went. Among other little tidbits she had gotten from her mother, her mom told her that I am not her father.
I have always known that there was a possibility that this was true. When I was in my 20's I got a vasectomy. The ex and I got divorced and remarried, and shortly after we remarried she showed up pregnant. To say the least I was stunned. I mean, it does happen. Things do grow back together, So I figured there was at least some chance that it was mine. I thought about it long and hard. Thought about going to be tested to see if there were any little wrigglers, but I decided that I would wait and see what the baby looked like. If it was asian or black or something, I would deal with it. R. was the result, and it was love at first sight. She looked enough like me that no questions ever arose. I made the reasoned, consious decision that it really made no difference whose genes she carried, she was mine. She and I have had a special bond her whole life. She was the reason I stayed with crazy woman so long. I was afraid if I got divorced, R. would get stuck being raised by a crazy woman, and I would not make that choice. When we did finally get divorced, R. was 16 and chose to stay with me.
So now I have my daughter asking questions because her mom has told her something. I mean I have always known her mom was crazy and a slut, but this came as a real belly blow.
I guess I'll probably be having a couple of future conversations with R. about her possible parentage.
My son hates his mom. He has told me he honestly believes she is a truely evil person. I have always told him she is just sick and can't help it. After this I am beginning to lean a little more towards his point of view.

Dilema

I've been toying around with this book for the last couple of years. Whenever I am not doing anything else, I dig it out and add to it. I am about 10,000 words into it so far, but I am not too sure where to go now. My first impulse is to create it's own BLOG and just put it out there as it gets done, but it needs some rewriting to get it into some kind of publishable format. I mean, right now it is one long chapter. I will probably take some time this next week to write on it, but do I go back and revise what is already there to format it into chapters, or pick up the trail and just see where it takes me. Right now it doesn't really have a destination, I'm just taking the journey as it comes.

We just got V.s progress report for the new semester, so it looks like I won't have to be fighting him over the use of the computer, as he is getting two F's. The little shits IQ is probably about 140, but he can't seem to get it applied to anything but Gaming.

I am sure looking forward to a week on the Coast without any kids, just Mrs. A. and I.

1955

Comments made in the year 1955:

"I'll tell you one thing, if things keep going the way they are, it's going to be impossible to buy a week's groceries for $20."

"Have you seen the new cars coming out next year? It won't be long before $2000 will only buy a used one."

"If cigarettes keep going up in price, I'm going to quit. A quarter a pack is ridiculous."

"Did you hear the post office is thinking about charging four cents just to mail a letter?"

"If they raise the minimum wage to $1, nobody will be able to hire outside help at the store."

"When I first started driving, who would have thought gas would someday cost 29 cents a gallon. Guess we'd be better off leaving the car in the garage."

"Kids today are impossible. Those duck tail hair cuts make it impossible to stay groomed. Next thing you know, boys will be wearing their hair as long as the girls."

"I'm afraid to send my kids to the movies any more. Ever since they let Clark Gable get by with saying 'damn' in 'Gone With The Wind,' it seems every new movie has either "hell" or "damn" in it.

"I read the other day where some scientist thinks it's possible to put a man on the moon by the end of the century They even have some fellows they call astronauts preparing for it down in Texas."

"Did you see where some baseball player just signed a contract for $75,000 a year just to play ball? It wouldn't surprise me if someday they'll be making more than the president."

"I never thought I'd see the day all our kitchen appliances would be electric. They are even making electric typewriters now."

"It's too bad things are so tough nowadays. I see where a few married women are having to work to make ends meet."

"It won't be long before young couples are going to have to hire someone to watch their kids so they can both work."

"Marriage doesn't mean a thing any more; those Hollywood stars seem to be getting divorced at the drop of a hat."

"I'm just afraid the Volkswagen car is going to open the door to a whole lot of foreign business."

"Thank goodness I won't live to see the day when the Government takes half our income in taxes. I sometimes wonder if we are electing the best people to congress."

"The drive-in restaurant is convenient in nice weather, but I seriously doubt they will ever catch on."

"There is no sense going to Lincoln or Omaha anymore for a weekend. It costs nearly $15 a night to stay in a hotel."

"No one can afford to be sick any more; $35 a day in the hospital is too rich for my blood."

"If they think I'll pay $1.50 for a hair cut, forget it."

VACATION!

We are taking a week to go to our time share condo on the Oregon Coast. We really need the time away. V. is going to stay with his dad, and Molly is going to stay with L. Mrs A. would really like to take Molly along, but the condo doesn't allow pets, children excepted. I would rather that they allowed pets and banned kids, but that's a different story.

No internet connections and the phones go through a central switchboard, so unless I go looking for a connection in town, no blogging for a week! Hopefully the weather won't be freezing ass cold so we can go for nice long romantic walks on the beach. The hike on the Tillamook Spit is 4.2 miles from the parking lot to the tip of the spit, so say 8.5 mile by the time you wander around a little. A good mid-winter excursion, as long as it isn't TOO cold.

Fun and frolic in the Dentists chair.

I was out yesterday with another Dental situation. As I whined last week, I had two root canals done on the same day. Well, root canal #2 went south on me. It seems that 60% of all people have only two nerves in #2 molar, 40% have a third nerve, and 20% have a fourth. You can probably guess which in I am. So they went in last Thursday and took out two nerves, but the side of my face swole up Tuesday and kept me up most of the night. I went in yesterday, and they spent a couple of hours looking around and located the other two, pulled out the nerves, but they couldn't fill the tooth because the canals are draining. Consequently I am sittin here with this enormous hole in my tooth which is open so that it can drain. They have me on a couple of antibiotics and Percocet.
On a different note, I gave away all my brewing equipment . I had made my own micro-brew for about ten years, It was every bit as good as the commercially available stuff. Even better, since I could tailor it specifically to my tastes. I was having trouble keeping my blood sugar under control, so the doc revised my medication, and added Metformin. The bad thing about Metformin is that I can't drink beer with it. A couple of beers, and two hours later it is killer heartburn. Nothing seems to help much, so the only alternative is (a gasp from the crowd), give up drinking beer altogether. I had a lot of fun making my own beer, but if I wasn't going to be using the equipment, someone else should. So I gave it all away.

Valentines Day

So today is Valentines day. Happy VD to all of you. This is a special day around the A. house, because it is the anniversary of our engagement as well as Valentines day, sort of.
Mrs A and I were getting really serious about each other. In fact we were moving some of her furniture up to my place. When we had carried her vanity into the house, I glanced around, and something didn't look right.
The VCR was missing. Then things began to pop out at me: the X box and all the games, my laptop. A cigarette ground in to the linoleum. So they hit me for over $10,000. I ran upstairs to check and my heart hit my heels.
I had spent many hours shopping for the perfect engagement ring (and I hate shopping). I think I had looked at every nice ring in the south end of Seattle. I finally found a virtually perfect 3/4 carat diamond with Ruby side stones. The cost was over #5,000, and it was gone.
Mrs A. had no idea I had purchased the ring. The first she knew about it was when she was sitting on the couch next to me as I gave the police my report on what was taken. You could have floored her when I reported the theft. It took a second to set in, but all the sudden her eyes got real big as she turned to me and asked "For me?".
Since I had not had time to call my insurance company, the ring was not specifically covered on my home owners. When the police left I set in motion a series of events that ranged from semi-legal to downright criminal, the result of which was that I recovered the ring. When I got it back
I asked Mrs A. if she wanted to see it, so she said yes. I showed her the ring, and went and put it away.
A couple of hours later I noticed that it was mighty quiet and I hadn't seen Mrs A. in a while, so I went looking for her. The house is 2850 Sq Ft, on three floors, so you can actually be there at the same time and not see each other for a quite a while.
I found her upstairs in the bed room, with the ring on her finger, tears running down her face. She said "I'm sorry dear, I can't help worrying about the ring." So I told her "Yeah, I figure that the safest place in the world for that ring right now is on your finger, so you just keep it there for now." I did not propose, but she knew it was coming.
For Valentine's Day we went to the Lake Quinault Lodge on the Olympic Peninsula for the weekend, where I asked her to remove the ring. I didn't immediately propose, but just put the ring in my pocket, and we went to dinner (this was on Friday night). I kept her guessing all weekend, finally did the formal one knee down "Will you marry me?" on Sunday morning after breakfast.

Your Candy Heart Says "Cutie Pie"

You always seem to have a hot date, even though you never try to meet anyone. A total charmer, you have a natural appeal that keeps you in high demand. Your ideal Valentine's Day date: multiple dates with multiple people Your flirting style: 100% natural What turns you off: serious relationship talks Why you're hot: you're totally addicting

What Does Your Candy Heart Say?

Anticipatin'

We are going down the Oregon Coast next week, to our Time Share Condo at Rockaway Beach for some much needed R & R. Just Mrs A. and I. We are dumping off V. since he is out of school for the week for late-winter-early-spring,-if-I-have-to-be-cooped-up-with-these kids-for-one- more-day-I-will-go-postal Teacher's Break. I don't much care what the weather does, we just need a little time to ourselves.

Double Dippin'

So, I thought I was going in for a quick dental repair yesterday. Part of a dental bridge had come loose, and I was to come in so they could pop it loose, clean it up, and glue it back on. Wrong.
When they took it off, they found a rotten tooth underneath. The dentist handed me a mirror and let me watch as he used a dental tool to scrape what was left of the tooth away. It was about the consistency of half dried clay. So he had to do a root canal, insert a post, do a build-up, and put everything back together.
I woke up yesterday with the side of my face swollen yesterday. It kept real good time with my heartbeat, so I figured something was going on over there. Well, Root Canal number Two. Yeah, two in one day. Does Al know how to have fun or what? Ends up I was in the dental chair for six hours yesterday.
Al least I ended up with two prescriptions for Percocet. If I take one, I can still function, although it does take some concentration to get anything done. If I take two like the prescription says, you might just as well prop me in the corner and leave me alone, 'cuz there ain't nothin' gettin' done.

Playing hookey

The sun is shining for the THIRD day in a row. Probably some kind of a record for Seattle in February. I have a dental appointment at 10:30, so I decided to just bag the whole work thing today. You know, I have an eye problem....can't see going to work today. I have a ballance problem....I can't stand going to work today. It's payday today, the sun is shining and I'm not going to work. Life is good. No telling what kind of trouble I will get in!

Useless information

It was the accepted practice in Babylon 4,000 years ago that for amonth after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer and because theircalendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month ... which we know today as the honeymoon.

And NO!!! I was not there at the time!

Sunshine at last!

The sun came out yesterday. What a beautiful day! I actually got to go out and play with the "Z". 280 Zs are noted for their electrical challenges. I have been chasing one electrical problem after another ever since I got the car. Currently, I just replaced the alternator (third in two years), and I think the battery has gone bad fro being drained flat and recharged so many times. Also their is a problem with the lights that I haven;t quite figured out yet. For no explicable reason, they will turn off while I am driving down the road. All I have to do is turn them off and back on, but no telling how long they will stay on. I think that tonight after work I will go out and tear the whole switch mechanism apart and tweak it all. It has to be something simple and mechanical. I suspect the ground is not maintaining contact with the ground bar on the steering column, but won't know for sure until I tear it apart. If it wasn't so beautiful and so much fun to drive I would dump it and get something a little more reliable.

Different Tack

So I am off in a different direction now, since I didn't like where the recent posts had taken me. Don't know where I go from here, but definitely enough death for a while. Funny how something you see or hear will take you off on a journey you never intended. It's like what Bilbo says about roads being dangerous things, because once you set out on them, no telling where you might wind up.
So the Seahawks lost to The Steelers and the officials yesterday. If you take into account the touchdown that the officials took away from the Seahawks for offensive pass interference (NO WAY!!!) and discount the gift of a touchdown that never happened to Pittsburgh, the game was a dead heat, but it's hard to beat the other team and the officials both. Hey. At least we got invited to the big dance!

Looking Death in the EYE III

When I was writing up yesterdays post, my heart rate went WAY up, I started sweating, and my hands started shaking. I mean, I was THERE and the memories were getting way too real. I had a nightmare last night, so I think after one more post I will change the subject.
When I was 12 or 13 a friend and I discovered some berry bushes and a cherry tree tucked back in a little patch of woods in South Seattle. The only building on the property was an old tumbled down shed, which was covered in Boyseneberry bushes. We would stop by for a snack every once in a while when things were ripe.
The cherry tree was a big bing cherry and it must have been 40 feet tall. It had not been taken care of in years, but it produced a good crop.
My buddy and I were sitting up in the cherry tree snack ing away, when we heard a voice from below "what do you boys think you are doing?"
Now, I have to admit I am not the most timid of creatures, and more often than not, my mouth gets me into trouble. There was a 50ish smallish man at to foot of the tree looking up at us.
"What's it look like, we're building a boat or something?"
"You boys should get down from there and go away"
"Is this your cherry tree? Do you own this property?"
"No, I just keep an eye on it for the owners."
"Well we aren't hurting anything, just eating a few cherries."
"YOU NEED TO LEAVE NOW!!!!"
The little man reaches under his arm and pulls out what appears to be a .45 Army Colt, cocks it and points it at my head.
This was the first time I had met a genuine maniac. I really believe he was capable of pulling the trigger. The hole in the end of that pistol looked like a huge eye, and when the pupil dilated it would cough up death. I didn't need to be encouraged any further, I got the hell out of there.
We found out where the nasty little man lived. He had a cherry tree in his yard that had a "Y" in it about 6' up and it was partly rotten down the center.
I read later in the paper that some juvenile delinquents had poured gasoline in that hollow and set it on fire.

Looking Death in the eye II

I was a staff member on the locked Psychiatric Ward in the Hospital at Camp Kue, so going to work started with unlocking the big steel door. After being run over by patients attempting to escape a couple of times, I learned to check close before opening the door. The guy that had held my job before me had been killed by a patient. My first duty when I took the job was to interview the patient. I asked him why he had done it, and he told me "I was convinced that he was going to kill me, so I acted out of self defense." It made perfect internal sense to him. He wasn't a bad guy once we had him properly medicated.
Paranoid/schizophrenic are the ones that are hard to deal with. Most psychotics are in such pain that they are non-functional. Add a little thorazine on top of that, and they are incapable of forming a complex thought, much less a plan.
T. was and Air Force enlisted man, who had a history of behavior problems. His Commanding Officer had had it with his disruptive behavior, so he gave him the most boring, isolated assignment he could think of. They gave him a loaded M16 and set him out guarding the perimeter of Kadena Air Force Base. After one too many joints, he decided that there were people out in the bushed, so he shot up the surrounding jungle. Luckily no one was hurt, but it earned him a trip to a padded room.
T was hard to control. Medications didn't seem to have a great effect on him, and he wanted what the wanted, and to hell with anyone who got in his way.
when I came in one morning he was in full rant. He wanted to go downstairs to the day room and play pool. "No T., you are not ready to go out there yet." So he picks up a trash can and throws it across the ward, and says "Now can I go play pool?" "No T., as long as you display this kind of behavior, you will not be allowed out".
So T. Picks up a chair and throws it into a window. Of course the windows were all security glass, with the chicken wire built in, so he busts up the window, but no big harm done "NOW CAN I GO PLAY POOL?". "No T. In fact you need to go spend some time in the padded room".
So when we went to put him in restraints, he ran to the back of the ward where his bed was and pulls out a 12" diving knife and says "You ain't putting me in there, I'll kill you all first".
We had a special number to call if things got out of hand, and a bunch of combat Vetran NCO's were supposed to come up and handle the situation. So they come upstairs and I let them into the ward and explain the situation. They look around the corner and here is this wild eyed guy standing in the middle of the floor waving a knife around. The staff is frantically getting everyone else out of the room and into a safe place. The "goon Squad" as we called them refused to go into the room.
One of the other Psych techs and I discussed what we were going to do. Since no one else seemed willing to do anything, we decided we had to. We came up with our plan and just did it.
We made an agreement, B. Would go for control of the patient, and I would make sure the knife was controlled.
We grabbed a mattress off of one of the beds. He held one end and I held the other. We rushed T. And just kept on pushing him backwards until we backed him into the wall, and pinned him there. While I grabbed the hand holding the knife, B. Grabbed T. Around the neck and choked the shit out of him. He choked him until he passed out, and I relieved him of the knife. When he would start to come to, B. Would tighten up his choke hold until he quit struggling. This only lasted a couple of minutes for the whole thing, but time has a way of stretching itself out when every second needs to be accounted for. It took a couple minutes for the Doctor to load up a hypo and get it into T. You are probably wondering where a psychotic patient got ahold of a knife. One of his "Friends" had smuggled it in for him when visiting. The "Friend" soon joined "T" in our care.
There were times when I held that job where I was afraid for my life, for very good reasons. It is one reason I can keep things in perspective now. Things may get incredible frantic, but I never feel that I am in danger of losing my life.

Looking Death in the Eye I

I was in the Military. I was a Social Work/Psychology Specialist for the Army on Okinawa. It was a job I enjoyed and was very good at and decided I didn't't want to do as a career.

I worked for the Psychiatric Service in the Camp Kue hospital, and was among other things the Liaison Officer for the locked Psychiatric Ward at the hospital.

One of the things we did was do interviews to determine sanity for people going into courtmartial proceedings. This is where I had the misfortune of meeting Earl.

Earl was a Marine who had murdered his commanding Officer. He had served three rotations in Vietnam, and volunteered for a fourth. It seems he had discovered a talent for killing people, and wanted to get back where it was somewhat condoned. His C.O. had refused his new rotation, so Earl had gone into his office with a loaded M16 and tried to persuade the C.O. to allow him to return to ‘Nam. When the C.O. declined, he unloaded a clip into him.

We rotated duty on the front desk as Receptionist, and it was my day to man the desk

The brought him to the Psychiatric Clinic in chains and with four armed guards. Earl was a 6’ 2” black body builder, in active duty Marine shape. Probably weighed about 180. His arms were bigger around than my legs were. He also had a look in his eye that did not make for comfortable eye contact.

The head Psychologist, R. had the duty to give him the interview to establish his sanity. He was a real humanitarian, and insisted that they take the shackles and chains off of Earl for the interview, over the protests of the guards.

They went into the conference room off of the reception area. I was a little nervous about having a murderer alone with R. so I kept a half an ear open for anything. After a while I heard some thumping noises coming from the conference room and what might be a muffled cry for help.

I ran over and threw doordoot open, and Earl had R. bent over backwards over his desk and was choking the crap oft od him. R. was mostly unconscious, and pretty red in the face. I ran up behind Earl and grabbed him in a full nelson, and for the next couple of minutes it was a pretty wild ride around the office, with Earl trying to dislodge me. All I did was tighten my hold until I was afraid I would break his neck. Eventually he slowed down and told me "It's OK, I"m all right now", but damned if I was going to give up the only advantage I was ever likely to get.

After Earl quit flailing around, one of the guards peeked his head around the corner and asked "Is everything OK in here?" If I had a club I would have hit him.

Anyway, I had to testify at Earls Attempted Murder court martial. The entire rime I was on the witness stand, Earl sat there with this big shit eating grin on his face staring at me with these dead eyes that said "If I ever get out of jail, you are one dead mother".

I guess the point of all this is that, when faced with a situation that could have gone very badly, I acted even though I was scared to death, and handled the situation. Just knowing how you would act in that kind of a situation instills a confidence in you that you can't get any other way.

The Court commended me for saving an Officers life, but also chewed me out for not using the word "Sir" often enough during my testimony. Talk about having a twisted set of priorities.