4:46 PM PST, El Cajon, CA, San Diego County:
Tonight, while fixing dinner, I received a telephone call. I am expecting an important phone call concerning a job. I answered. I don't recall the exact words but I do remember the name. Brad Williams. Republican running for state senate. Wow. I hadn't heard of him. Then they said he was endorsed by the Boston Globe. Cool. But why would a candidate for state senate in California be endorsed by the Boston Globe. Then the announcer said "Brad Williams, candidate for state senate, Massachusetts. Really?
Geesh. I am being bombarded. The daily mail brought a whole tree of campaign literature. Vote for this, vote for that. Vote for me, vote for them. Ok. I love our electoral system, but geesh, can't you get the phone number right.
Mr. Williams, I wish you well.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Wow. Saddam Hussein really did have Weapons of Mass Destruction.
Wow. Saddam Hussein really did have weapons of mass destruction. George W. Bush, and all the other European nations that had the same intelligence, were right. Amazing.
Wired magazine just posted this on their website (www.wired.com/dangerroom/) in an article by Noah Shachtman (is that pronounced "shocked man"?). I had to throw that last parenthetical question in there because I was confident that Saddam did have them. I am not privvy to any information I just took him at his word.
But you should also check this out:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHJJQ0zNNOM
Found this also on Wired.com. I want one.
Thanks for checking in.
D.
Wired magazine just posted this on their website (www.wired.com/dangerroom/) in an article by Noah Shachtman (is that pronounced "shocked man"?). I had to throw that last parenthetical question in there because I was confident that Saddam did have them. I am not privvy to any information I just took him at his word.
But you should also check this out:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHJJQ0zNNOM
Found this also on Wired.com. I want one.
Thanks for checking in.
D.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Coke Machines
I remember those coke machines with the little 5 or 6 ounce cups, and the small cubes of ice about the size of a dime. You know, the ones where you dropped in a couple of quarters and you got a nice little refreshing cold drink. The drink you could finish in a few gulps, but it still quenched your thirst.
I miss those. Don't see many of them around. Now you either get 12 oz. aluminum cans or 20 oz. glass or plastic bottles. I could drink 5 or 6 ounces, not 12 and definitely not 20 at a time. I am glad they have resealable caps but still, it seems like such a waste.
Why not bring those machines back? I know. They compete with the baristas and fast food joints. It just seems like a healthier choice or, at least, a more moderate one.
I miss those. Don't see many of them around. Now you either get 12 oz. aluminum cans or 20 oz. glass or plastic bottles. I could drink 5 or 6 ounces, not 12 and definitely not 20 at a time. I am glad they have resealable caps but still, it seems like such a waste.
Why not bring those machines back? I know. They compete with the baristas and fast food joints. It just seems like a healthier choice or, at least, a more moderate one.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Old Friends and Love Stories
The other day was a rainy day in Southern California. I get rather pensive on days like that.
I was working at my computer, doing job searches, looking for work and hoping for the best. I don’t know why I thought about it. Something in the weather, I guess, must have reminded me of the story. It was a love story. The kind of endless, undying love, with lovers too young to know any better and dumb enough to give their hearts so fully. They relied on each other too much. They were kids, they were unprepared. This was my friend’s story.
Reggie was an independent spirit. I met him about 25 years ago. We met by chance. We worked in the same hotel. We became friends. We were about the same age. I was married, he was not.
I had been working at the Italian Restaurant in the hotel when Reggie was hired. He was immediately assigned to our restaurant as a prep cook. We hit it off immediately. He had a wonderful sense of humor and lots of great stories to tell. He was a pleasure to work with.
He had come to the lake to start something new. He was tired of his old life and needed something different. He had been chasing a living running a deep fried vegetable concession truck at county fairs, carnivals and craft festivals. He needed a change. I think the economy had something to do with it. The money just wasn’t there.
I remember he rolled into Tahoe in his camper truck. He lived like a turtle, with his home on his back. Come to think of it, he was kind of built like a turtle too, kind of round and hard, about 5 foot 5 (or 6) inches tall, 240 to 250 pounds, not fat, muscular. He used to tell us stories of his traveling to carnivals and festivals, the people he’d meet and things he had seen.
At one time during his travels in the early 80’s, at the height of the mud wrestling popularity, Reggie and a buddy went to a bar one evening. There was a huge sign over a mud wrestling pit that advertised that wrestling would begin that evening at 7PM. There were pictures of nice looking young women all around the pit. After a few beers, as Reggie told it, and with some cajoling from his friend, Reggie was ready to sign up for the wrestling. He figured he would need a few beers to get into a mud pit with a couple of bikini clad waitresses and make a fool of himself.
Seven PM rolled around and Reggie, slightly inebriated, eagerly awaited the girls and the mud. Soon, an announcement was made to the now-crowded bar that the mud wrestling would soon begin. A small cheer went up as the crowd moved to gather around the small pit and arena. As luck would have it Reggie’s name was called first. Reggie stepped forward, was lead into the arena and, beer in hand, yelled, “Bring on the girls!”
Right on cue, Reggie’s opponent was brought in to the arena. No girls. His opponent was to be a six foot alligator with duct tape around his snout and carried by two attendants. The crowd let out a cheer.
“Had I been sober, I would have backed out,” Reggie told us. But since he had “several” beers he really didn’t care about the outcome. He stepped up to “rassle the gator”.
The bell rang and the gator was let loose. Reggie pounced and grabbed the gator. The first two times the gator wiggled free. But the third time Reggie held on for dear life. The gator was having none of that and swung his tail in the air, with Reggie precariously attached, and whipped Reggie completely out of the ring. Reggie did not get back in. Getting thrown out of the ring once was enough.
This was Reggie. He was fun-loving, hard drinking and had a great sense of humor. He was also a very passionate guy. Reggie had been married, to the love of his life he said. They married young, just after he had established himself in the carnival food business. He would winter in Yuma, Arizona, a hotbed meeting place of fellow carnies and fair food service types. The mild winters made Yuma an excellent place to rest in the off-season, to repair machines, and to get ready for the next season.
Reggie met a local girl. They fell in love and married in the spring. He moved her to his home in Modesto, California where they lived a life as idyllic newlyweds.
Reggie and his wife moved into a working class neighborhood in Modesto. He had a small house with a carport. Life was good.
One night Reggie heard a noise coming from his carport and, upon investigating, found someone (or two) breaking into his car. He confronted the individual(s) only to be beaten severely. Reggie told me he spent several weeks in the hospital with multiple broken bones. His young wife was so afraid to stay in the house alone, and not having any relatives in the area, went home to her family in Yuma.
When Reggie finally got out of the hospital he divorced her. “She wasn’t there when I really needed her,” he told me. He also told me it was one of the great mistakes of his life. He never married again.
I knew Reggie 20 years ago. I haven’t seen him since. I have tried to find him a few times over the years. But not for the last five years or so. Internet searches, but to no avail. But just recently, after being laid off, I started my search again. I had an idea for a lunch truck as a last resort, if my current career path doesn’t pan out. I have not been able to find a job. So, I thought a lunch truck, working for myself, might be the route to go. I knew Reggie had that experience. I needed his help for my lunch truck business venture. I needed advice.
I tried searching again. His name came up. I hit the link for the Stanislaus County District Attorney’s office, Crime Victim’s Unit. Yes. There was Reggie’s name, listed on a plaque honoring the homicide victims in Stanislaus County for 2004-2005. This bit of news broke my heart. I should call the DA’s CVU (I have the number on my desk) to verify the identity of my friend but I am too afraid of the truth. It is a scary proposition. Is it better to know? Or should I cling to the hope that it is a coincidence? Perhaps a different Reggie? I do not know what I am going to do. I may never know.
He was a good man. Such a shame.
Keep in touch.
D.
I was working at my computer, doing job searches, looking for work and hoping for the best. I don’t know why I thought about it. Something in the weather, I guess, must have reminded me of the story. It was a love story. The kind of endless, undying love, with lovers too young to know any better and dumb enough to give their hearts so fully. They relied on each other too much. They were kids, they were unprepared. This was my friend’s story.
Reggie was an independent spirit. I met him about 25 years ago. We met by chance. We worked in the same hotel. We became friends. We were about the same age. I was married, he was not.
I had been working at the Italian Restaurant in the hotel when Reggie was hired. He was immediately assigned to our restaurant as a prep cook. We hit it off immediately. He had a wonderful sense of humor and lots of great stories to tell. He was a pleasure to work with.
He had come to the lake to start something new. He was tired of his old life and needed something different. He had been chasing a living running a deep fried vegetable concession truck at county fairs, carnivals and craft festivals. He needed a change. I think the economy had something to do with it. The money just wasn’t there.
I remember he rolled into Tahoe in his camper truck. He lived like a turtle, with his home on his back. Come to think of it, he was kind of built like a turtle too, kind of round and hard, about 5 foot 5 (or 6) inches tall, 240 to 250 pounds, not fat, muscular. He used to tell us stories of his traveling to carnivals and festivals, the people he’d meet and things he had seen.
At one time during his travels in the early 80’s, at the height of the mud wrestling popularity, Reggie and a buddy went to a bar one evening. There was a huge sign over a mud wrestling pit that advertised that wrestling would begin that evening at 7PM. There were pictures of nice looking young women all around the pit. After a few beers, as Reggie told it, and with some cajoling from his friend, Reggie was ready to sign up for the wrestling. He figured he would need a few beers to get into a mud pit with a couple of bikini clad waitresses and make a fool of himself.
Seven PM rolled around and Reggie, slightly inebriated, eagerly awaited the girls and the mud. Soon, an announcement was made to the now-crowded bar that the mud wrestling would soon begin. A small cheer went up as the crowd moved to gather around the small pit and arena. As luck would have it Reggie’s name was called first. Reggie stepped forward, was lead into the arena and, beer in hand, yelled, “Bring on the girls!”
Right on cue, Reggie’s opponent was brought in to the arena. No girls. His opponent was to be a six foot alligator with duct tape around his snout and carried by two attendants. The crowd let out a cheer.
“Had I been sober, I would have backed out,” Reggie told us. But since he had “several” beers he really didn’t care about the outcome. He stepped up to “rassle the gator”.
The bell rang and the gator was let loose. Reggie pounced and grabbed the gator. The first two times the gator wiggled free. But the third time Reggie held on for dear life. The gator was having none of that and swung his tail in the air, with Reggie precariously attached, and whipped Reggie completely out of the ring. Reggie did not get back in. Getting thrown out of the ring once was enough.
This was Reggie. He was fun-loving, hard drinking and had a great sense of humor. He was also a very passionate guy. Reggie had been married, to the love of his life he said. They married young, just after he had established himself in the carnival food business. He would winter in Yuma, Arizona, a hotbed meeting place of fellow carnies and fair food service types. The mild winters made Yuma an excellent place to rest in the off-season, to repair machines, and to get ready for the next season.
Reggie met a local girl. They fell in love and married in the spring. He moved her to his home in Modesto, California where they lived a life as idyllic newlyweds.
Reggie and his wife moved into a working class neighborhood in Modesto. He had a small house with a carport. Life was good.
One night Reggie heard a noise coming from his carport and, upon investigating, found someone (or two) breaking into his car. He confronted the individual(s) only to be beaten severely. Reggie told me he spent several weeks in the hospital with multiple broken bones. His young wife was so afraid to stay in the house alone, and not having any relatives in the area, went home to her family in Yuma.
When Reggie finally got out of the hospital he divorced her. “She wasn’t there when I really needed her,” he told me. He also told me it was one of the great mistakes of his life. He never married again.
I knew Reggie 20 years ago. I haven’t seen him since. I have tried to find him a few times over the years. But not for the last five years or so. Internet searches, but to no avail. But just recently, after being laid off, I started my search again. I had an idea for a lunch truck as a last resort, if my current career path doesn’t pan out. I have not been able to find a job. So, I thought a lunch truck, working for myself, might be the route to go. I knew Reggie had that experience. I needed his help for my lunch truck business venture. I needed advice.
I tried searching again. His name came up. I hit the link for the Stanislaus County District Attorney’s office, Crime Victim’s Unit. Yes. There was Reggie’s name, listed on a plaque honoring the homicide victims in Stanislaus County for 2004-2005. This bit of news broke my heart. I should call the DA’s CVU (I have the number on my desk) to verify the identity of my friend but I am too afraid of the truth. It is a scary proposition. Is it better to know? Or should I cling to the hope that it is a coincidence? Perhaps a different Reggie? I do not know what I am going to do. I may never know.
He was a good man. Such a shame.
Keep in touch.
D.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
This is Not the Silent Century
This is not the silent century,
everyone has a voice.
This is not the age of truth,
everyone has a choice.
We can toil or not and persevere,
We can stand on our faith and cheer.
We can never regain our youth.
D.
everyone has a voice.
This is not the age of truth,
everyone has a choice.
We can toil or not and persevere,
We can stand on our faith and cheer.
We can never regain our youth.
D.
Monday, October 4, 2010
List for the Unemployed
Note: I got laid off from my job on July 22. I need to make a list of what I need to do each day, lest I waste too much time doing nothing but watching tv.
My lists:
July 23rd.
1. Cheer up. You now have time to work on your poetry, novel and your historical tome.
2. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
3. Savings can cover the mortgage.
July 25
1. Look for work. Send out 5 resumes to all competitors of old company.
2. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
3. Savings can cover the mortgage.
July 26
1. Look for work. Send out 5 resumes to any company that you have an address on.
2. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
3. Savings can cover the mortgage.
July 27
1. Have a happy birthday.
2. Take time to read a book. Relax.
3. Play scrabble on the computer.
4. If bored, play some mindless, noisy games on the internet.
5. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
6. Savings can cover the mortgage.
August 2
1. Look for work.
2. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
3. Savings can cover the mortgage.
September 7
1. Drive son to school.
2. Look for work on the computer, for an hour.
3. Find at least one job a day to apply for.
4. 9AM. Play some mindless, noisy games on the internet.
5. Think about your writing. Ok, that’s enough.
6. Lunch time? Already.
7. Call your wife.
8. Tell her to call you (the phone must be broken.)
9. Check Facebook. See who played hooky today.
10. Just me.
September 14
1. Drive son to school.
2. Look for work on the computer, for an hour.
3. Find at least one job a day to apply for.
4. 9AM. Play some mindless, noisy games on the internet.
5. Groceries – bleach, drain cleaner, rat poison, lighter fluid, Milk, eggs, cheese, pudding, bacon, butter, sausages.
6. Think about your writing, but read a book instead.
September 27
1. Drive son to school.
2. Stop for newspaper and donut.
3. Think about tomorrow’s list.
September 28
1. Drive son to school.
2. Come home, shower, shave, put on clean clothes.
3. Leave in plenty of time for interview. (first one in weeks.)
4. Be nice.
5. Call your wife.
6. Tell her we find out next week.
October 1
1. Drive son to school.
2. Look for work on the computer, for an hour.
3. Rake the leaves, mow the lawn.
4. Go to chiropractor. Back hurts.
5. Thank God for the vicodin.
6. And Ice.
7. …
October 4
1. Drive son to school.
2. Stop for newspaper.
3. Check the phone.
4. Coffee, breakfast, newspaper.
5. Check the phone.
6. Check e-mail.
7. Lunch time already. Call your wife.
8. Check phone.
My lists:
July 23rd.
1. Cheer up. You now have time to work on your poetry, novel and your historical tome.
2. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
3. Savings can cover the mortgage.
July 25
1. Look for work. Send out 5 resumes to all competitors of old company.
2. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
3. Savings can cover the mortgage.
July 26
1. Look for work. Send out 5 resumes to any company that you have an address on.
2. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
3. Savings can cover the mortgage.
July 27
1. Have a happy birthday.
2. Take time to read a book. Relax.
3. Play scrabble on the computer.
4. If bored, play some mindless, noisy games on the internet.
5. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
6. Savings can cover the mortgage.
August 2
1. Look for work.
2. Don’t think about the lost vacation plans.
3. Savings can cover the mortgage.
September 7
1. Drive son to school.
2. Look for work on the computer, for an hour.
3. Find at least one job a day to apply for.
4. 9AM. Play some mindless, noisy games on the internet.
5. Think about your writing. Ok, that’s enough.
6. Lunch time? Already.
7. Call your wife.
8. Tell her to call you (the phone must be broken.)
9. Check Facebook. See who played hooky today.
10. Just me.
September 14
1. Drive son to school.
2. Look for work on the computer, for an hour.
3. Find at least one job a day to apply for.
4. 9AM. Play some mindless, noisy games on the internet.
5. Groceries – bleach, drain cleaner, rat poison, lighter fluid, Milk, eggs, cheese, pudding, bacon, butter, sausages.
6. Think about your writing, but read a book instead.
September 27
1. Drive son to school.
2. Stop for newspaper and donut.
3. Think about tomorrow’s list.
September 28
1. Drive son to school.
2. Come home, shower, shave, put on clean clothes.
3. Leave in plenty of time for interview. (first one in weeks.)
4. Be nice.
5. Call your wife.
6. Tell her we find out next week.
October 1
1. Drive son to school.
2. Look for work on the computer, for an hour.
3. Rake the leaves, mow the lawn.
4. Go to chiropractor. Back hurts.
5. Thank God for the vicodin.
6. And Ice.
7. …
October 4
1. Drive son to school.
2. Stop for newspaper.
3. Check the phone.
4. Coffee, breakfast, newspaper.
5. Check the phone.
6. Check e-mail.
7. Lunch time already. Call your wife.
8. Check phone.
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