I Am Tired

I have been feeling pretty tired lately, not sleeping very well lately. I didn’t do much this weekend, beyond the normal stuff; laundry and grilling meet for the week at the DMIL’s house. I need to up the activity level or else it is tough to find bloggable experiences.

We saw Escanaba in da Moonlight on DVD! It kicked ass! After all those years in Wisconsin, I finally understand what deer hunting is all about. I recommend this movie to any current or former Northern Midwesterner who wants a big yuck. There is no subpopulation better to showcase the surreal nature of life up north than the “yooppers” (that’s Michigan’s Upper Peninsula residents for you coastal types). One of the main characters is crazy Jim McGonahy from Menominee! Menominee is where my Mother started her childhood, until Grandma and Grandpa decided to become urbanites and moved to Wausau Wisconsin’s sprawling metropolis. I have always suspected the move to Wausau was motivated by its proximity to Chippewa Falls, site of the Leinenkugel’s Brewery. In another odd twist of fate, I was born in Wausau, although I never lived there. As you drive north, Wausau is at the point where the landscape changes from fields to woods.

Dis is da year for da Packers (OK, probably their year to disappoint even more than usual)! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

The Revolution is not Being Televised

But, don't worry, Barbara Ehrenreich has the full story here!

Mass civil disobediance by protesters who refuse to "behave" by not making their mortgage payments. Between Sacramento and Stockton's leading roles in the protest, I proudly feel close to the center of the revolution.

POWER TO THE (soon to be homeless) People!

Modern Life What We’ve Become

Two household events this we’re dealing with this week leave me wondering, “what is going on in our country?”

First, on the lighter side, I received the music books I ordered last week via Express mail. Express mail is apparently the normal way to send anything through the US Mail. Regular mail is obviously too time-consuming. We are surely in a no-holds-barred hurry to get whatever we ordered.

The book I ordered, Der Fluyten Lust-Hof, is a reproduction of a second edition released in 1651, about 356 years ago. I can’t help but ask myself how strange it is to make the assumption that after 356 years, I need the book on Saturday rather than the following Thursday. If I look at his from just a few steps back, it is absurd. However, I was very happy to get the book yesterday, and I jumped right into it. I guess that makes me complicit in our shared twisted values.

Gold!

Kathleen and I started the morning with a short walk in a nature preserve by the American River. We saw the normal assortment of unidentifiable birds, mule deer, jackrabbits, rattlers (since moving here I have put behind me the urge to pick up every snake I see), frogs and turkeys (avian and mammal variety). We enjoyed the crisp and cool weather this morning.

History buffs may recognize the American River as the sight of John Sutter’s gold discovery that changed the course of history by bringing over 30,000 lightly armed Americans to Alta California in 1849. Although Sutter’s Mill is near Coloma, several miles uphill from Sacramento, some of the same rocks rolled down to the Sacramento Valley over the millennia.

What, might you ask, does this 19th century history review have to do with a walk in the riparian wilderness?

When walking near the river, I occasionally break a fist – sized quartz rock, to see what’s inside. Proving that even a stopped clock is right once in a while, I immediately saw yellow reflections of sunlight when I smashed a rock today. Very small glints of mineral sunshine scattered through the fracture . . . this . . . means . . . GOLD!

I carefully slipped the fractured rock into my pocket, mildly reminiscent of Virginia Woolf. However, I stayed on dry land. After all these years here, I finally feel connected with California’s cultural history of get-rich-quick schemes. Maybe next time I’ll find a floodplain real estate development. Who can tell, in this land of golden opportunity?

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Blowin’ in the Wind

What do I like to do to relax and enjoy some downtime, and feel good about life, the universe and everything?

The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in my winds, the answer is blowing in my winds.

I picked up the clarinet from the music store yesterday, where it was staying for repairs. The entire overhaul was $50 (sweeeet!). They replaced a few pads under the keys so I won’t spray myself and others when I play C - sharps or use my trill keys. I can always play more in tune right after my once-every-5-years overhaul. For some reason, as things on the clarinet lose their alignment and fit less well, I creep sharp over time. I don’t know why.

While at the music store, I picked up a couple books of recorder music. I nabbed one small book of Bach Duets and an early music collection. The early collection has a complete solo score of one of my favorite piece, “Under the Linden Tree” (Onter der quack blah quack in Dutch) from Der Fluyten Lust-Hof by Jacob Van Eyck, everybody’s favorite 17th century blind Dutch composer. What’s actually pretty cool is that Der Fluyten Lust Hof means the Flute-Player’s Garden of Delights. Hey, click the “play sample" button on the website. I know you are dying to.

I will have to play this through a few dozen times to get everything consistently right. K likes this song, but I fear she may not like it so much by next week.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Harry & Me

I should've written a blog entry last weekend, but "Harry Potter and the whatever" came on Saturday afternoon. I am up to page 360 or so, still enjoying it.

Contrary to all the blathermeisters out there, I really don't care what happens in the end, who gets offed, or any of that. I have read enough YA (young adult) fiction to recognize that the endings aren't the strong point in the genre. Kind of like real life, in that way.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

All about Me, Me, Me

I stumbled on an interesting website at work. The Doe Report provides resources attorneys use to educate juries. Their materials appear to be used by plaintiffs’ and defense attorneys. They have a great diagram for the Kocher maneuver. This is part of the surgery technique for removing an insulinoma. It’s followed by prodding a sonogram wand all around, and then what ever slicing and dicing is necessary. Seeing this diagram somehow helps me feel more comfortable having stomach aches all the time. It somehow helps me feel justified to be a bit of a wreck sometimes.

I guess it would be a little corny to describe my reaction as visceral.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Stupid Link of the Day – Kirk Versus Picard

Kirk versus Picard. The controversy lives on. Wil Wheaton, of Wesley Crusher and “Just a Geek” fame has been captured Channeling Kirk and Picard. This is moderately amusing, in a geeky way.

An Extra Day for Laziness

There is little else in life as pleasant as a day taken off from work with no plans in mind. Today is that day for us. Since I was up late playing for the fireworks show last night, we decided to take a vacation day. Slept late, went to the library in the morning, had lunch wit the MIL, and now we’re spending the afternoon at home since it’s too hot to do much outside. I thought about seeing a matinee showing of Sicko, but I decided that would be too much like going to work. Instead I have been lolling in my reclining chair and watching ”The Two Towers”. The reclining chair is one of my favorite remnants from my “very sick days”.

A day of like this makes apparent what a drag it is going to work every day. I don’t seem to have any trouble filling a day with activities that are pleasant and at worst no more destructive than a day at work. All this even without banal self-improving activities like exercise, and other puritanically approved hogwash.

Last night’s pre-fireworks concert was a success, although it was really hot before the sun sank below a line of trees. I managed to drink 42 ounces of water over about two hours, without a single trip to the john. It must be summer in Sacramento again. We fell a little behind schedule, so the fire works started a few seconds after we began our encore of Stars and Stripes Forever. This was made a pretty cool effect. Being a pop concert, we played an arrangement of Glenn Miller tunes. I could not help but notice that the fireworks crowd simply didn’t “get it”. The crowd was mostly young adults with kids and teenagers, the adults in the crowd may have had an average birth year around 1970 if not later. From that younger viewpoint, Glenn Miller isn’t a lot more relevant than anything else from the first half of the 20th Century, however it works well for a symphonic band. Good thing most band concerts are well-attended by the over age 70 crowd. In any event, I don’t see changing the pops repertoire to include arrangements of punk rock or hip hop tunes any time soon. That would really suck.

Day at Point Reyes, A Break From My Everyday Exciting Life

A Day at Point Reyes, A Break From My Everyday Exciting Life

We drove out to Point Reyes National Seashore for a hike yesterday. The weather was beautiful, although a little warm for the coast, with no fog, sunshine and a high temperature around 70 except within a few hundred feet of the shore.

We decided to hike the Bear Valley Trail , since this trail is wide and levelly paved. I needed a non-rocky trail since I managed to break a toe Thursday night. This link has great pictures from the trail. The path alternates between warm grassy meadows and cool fern-lined gullies. This made a very pleasant hike just under nine miles. The walk begins about 4 miles from the ocean, going through a series of hills, ending at a promontory overlooking the ocean, which makes a perfect place for a windy lunch and watching pelicans fly about 100 feet below. The gullies had several large annual plants that can only be described as resembling illustrations for Dr Seuss books.

The drive both ways was uneventful, which is a relief because we were traveling under the threat of traffic from a NASCAR race at Infineon Speedway . Apparently, we missed the before and after race traffic. You can no longer call this an elitist blog, since I’ve added two links to NASCAR. Just don’t ask me to spell out the NASCAR acronym.

I broke my toe in the classic way. Got up at about 11:00 PM with a stomach ache, got up and read in the living room for a while, then turned out the light and walked back to bed. I suffered the immediate pain silently, in order to spare Kathleen and the cat from the toe-clutching-middle-of-the night howling in the hallway that haunted my childhood.

That’s all my excitement for this weekend, until I go to the DMIL’s house to watch this evening with dinner. We have dinner and watch Sherlock Holmes and Midsomer Murders
Mystery shows “Tivoed” from the Biography Channel. I don’t know why among the Biography Channel’s most popular shows are mysteries. I also don’t know why the rural Midsomer area hasn’t run out of population to murder yet. The high prevalence of adultery might somehow contribute to providing future murder victims.

Next weeks major excitement involves band. I am in a group that will wind up practice on Monday and Wednesday to play a Sunday night concert at Carmichael park. And we’ll play at a local fireworks show. Fireworks shows are a unique experience. We play before sundown, while five or about five thousand people are in the park setting up chairs and laying out blankets, trying to keep track of their kids, and wondering how they ever let their kids talk them into this in the first place.

We are playing the typical fireworks show pieces, including the 1812 overture (really just the last third of this ponderous piece and, of course, ending with Stars & Stripes forever. We are having a vocalist sing “Old Man River” and another Patriotic song (maybe the Battle Hymn, but I can’t remember).

That’s my story an I’m sticking to it.

I Communed With Saints (of the Latter Day variety)!

OK, OK, Calm Down! I spent last Sunday morning with a few hundred Latter Day Saints. Of course, I politely refused communion. The communion consisted of white bread and water served by teenage boys wearing dark slacks, white shirts, and dark ties. Why are these details not a surprise? I used the official Catholic – approved gesture for refusing communion, which involves silently crossing your arms, and gently tapping each shoulder simultaneously with the opposite hand. I think this confused the boy priests, I hope they didn’t think it might be an obscene gesture. From listening to the service, I think that Mormons do not believe in Transubstantiation.

My ensemble played for the Sunday service, since one of our members is a member of that church. The service was not terribly exciting. The talks, given by the congregation’s men (all priests, of course) were pretty dull. Fortunately they didn’t harp on too much weird stuff, however, several verses were quoted from what I believe were Jesus’ sermons to the Incas, straight from the book of Mormon (I think). We also heard a lot about how hard work will make a man great, that we must never lose hope, and other surprisingly standard Protestant themes. It was somewhat comforting to observe that Mormon teenagers are equally bored in church as any other kids. Whatever.

The overriding feel of extreme patriarchy surrounding and throughout the whole environment was beyond belief. I cannot clearly describe any of the myriad of small patriarchy – reinforcing words and actions, but the cumulative effect was beyond anything I could have conceived. Ok, everything I could have conceived excepting plural wives. I was a little freaked out.

I talked with several church members, and everyone was nice. They were perfect hosts. No one asked me “if I was interested in learning more about their church”. Most important, no one offered me any me green kool-aid.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Disappearing Act

I have been lazy about making blog entries. My sole lane excuse is that work has been on my mind a lot the last few weeks, and it isn’t blog-worthy. It’s a combination of boring and public policy issues. I don’t want to talk about it, and nobody wants to hear about it.

I have also been busy on the weekends, although I have no reports of peaks climbed or a thrilling social life that I can boast. I have spent most of my time obsessing about work and doing a lot of Recorder society stuff, mainly mundane board of directors business. Getting the new board of on the right foot and dealing with work has made me tool dull to blog.

Some of My Best Friends are Vegetables

Saturday in our neighborhood is Farmers Market day. The local California Farmers Markets differ from the Madison, Wisconsin Farmers Market of my youth and young adulthood. California Farmers markets are more about serious grocery shopping and the occasional mariachi band, and less of a celebration of the short and intense pleasure of the glorious summer like Madison’s Farmers Market.

I bought a giant head of romaine lettuce, green beans, red and gold beets, and several pounds of peaches, apricots and Pluots. Pluots are a plumb-apricot hybrid that resembles a plumb in feel and appearance, but combines the tart lemon-like plumb flavor with the apricot’s flavor and fragrance. I have rarely seen pluots except at farmers markets.

I boiled the beets, steamed the beans, and washed and tore the lettuce as soon as I got home. I try to keep pre-cooked vegetables in the refrigerator for grab-and-go eating all week. I love getting my hands into the vegetables this way. Life is somehow merrier with a fridge full of fresh food ready to enjoy.

The farmers markets are the only place in my life where I can experience the benefits of a real free market economy. I can buy peaches from my choice among about ten vendors, all within about 100 feet of each other. Amazing how this arrangement assures quality and price. I can’t say the same for Safeway.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Memorial Day

Perhaps, when we remember wars, we should take off our clothes and paint ourselves blue and go on all fours all day long and grunt like pigs. That would surely be more appropriate than noble oratory and shows of flags and well-oiled guns.

-Kurt Vonnegut

I have to agree with the crusty old Hoosier on this one, although I like a parade as much as the next guy. Let’s have more well-oiled brass and woodwinds (at least well-oiled musicians), and fewer guns. I cannot help but muse upon the shameful expropriation of peoples’ lives and labor that is what passes for war in today’s double-speak. It is sobering to think about what other services might be provided with the resources spent in the seemingly endless fiasco in Iraq. Medi-Cal can provide healthcare for around seven million Californians for a cost of about $12 Billion per year. Compare that to over $100 Billion to continue the fighting in Iraq though early autumn. That doesn’t even begin to account for the devastating cost of loss of life limb and civil rights.

I usually visit our local cemeteries on Memorial Day. It’s our family tradition. The Spanish – American war veteran’s cemetery in Sacramento has a monument made from relics from the USS Maine, as well as my wife’s grandfather’s grave. The Spanish – American War Veterans Association in Sacramento became a massively powerful civic organization from the 1920s through the 1950s. From reading scrapbooks of clippings, it seems they were like a combination of the Kiwanis, Elks, and Rotary, with a little of the Klan mentality thrown in for a spice. I am glad all those veterans were long gone by the time excavators determined that the Maine’s explosion was not due to sabotage. But we get to keep Puerto Rico anyway. A war predicated by deceit? By George, I can’t believe it.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Home Improvement

We had our carpet taken out and the floors refinished last week. The only thing left to do is move the heavy furniture back from the garage and put all the books back on the shelves. We are expecting reinforcements for the furniture moving at 7:00 tomorrow morning. The house looks and feels good, however we need to let the finish cure for a week before putting out area rugs. I have a bokhara rug that’s been waiting for this moment, rolled up in a closet for years. We finally have the house in shape, hopefully no more projects for the next several years.

The house has a different resonant sound quality without the carpet, hopefully bringing the upholstered furniture back in will dampen things a little. We have a slight echo indoors.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Card-Carrying Bureaucrat

It’s been over a week without an entry. Work and other things have kept me busy, responding to the Administration’s budget request. We also have had a Band concert last week. We sucked, but I say since admission is free, who cares?

P .S. the six-pack referred two in the previous entry is delicious Verners Ginger Ale. However, beer in cans would have fitted just as well. It’s typical of the corporate mentality to design drawers that do not fit micro-brewery bottles.

Speaking of band concerts, we will be playing at this year’s July 4th fireworks in Carmicheal. This is fun, we can play lots of marches that everyone already knows, and a parking space close to the exit, since as stage manager, I’ll be among the first to arrive. I did this a few years ago and enjoyed it. The only drawback is that temperatures tend to be hot while setting up in the early evening.

The only upcoming event on the Sine Nomine radar is playing at a LDS service in June and a UCC service in July. I want to find a big button that says, “kiss me, I’m a gentile” for the Mormon service. I am hoping the Mormon service will be memorable. I have never been to one. We have played at the UCC church in the past, they have the typical liberal protestant service, with nothing out of the ordinary (Catholics – no pun intended).

Now, the lead story. My Union Card came in the mail! It’s even laminated! I feel like going out and smashing some fascists bosses (are there any other type?)

Here’s what’s written on the back of the card; “Members of SEIU Local 1000, CSEA are united – in our workplaces and our communities - to protect and enhance public services. Together, we will build a better future for ourselves, our families, and all working people.”

It could go on to state; “We will protect the brain-dead and incompetant at all levels of State employment. We work diligently to preserve the right of any worker to a two hour nap at the time of the worker’s choosing. We universally reject the so-called right of employers to demand any noticable effort from employees; after all, this is the State, dammit!”

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Zero Tolerance Policy

Desk
Drawer
Exact
Height to close
Over a sixpack.
Not a centimeter extra!
Conspiracy or
Yearning of
Office
Day
Dreams?

Hooked on Sweet Things

Sweet thing No.1

Alright, readers, it’s time to come clean. On and off over the past couple of years, I have been reading the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series by Alexander McCall Smith. The stories take place in Botswana, and are so shamefully sweet I am sickened that I both play recorders and have read these novels. Sometimes I fear there is an old lady inside me, struggling to get out. Hey, just a minute, did I steal that from Alfred Hitchcock (Norrrrmannnnnn)? These books are so sickening sweet and moralizing that even my m-m-m-mother doesn’t like them.

The series follows the life and work of Botswana’s first female private detective, Precious Ramotswe, who is “traditionally built” and prizes old-fashioned Botswana values. Her idea of traditional Botswana values is suspiciously like all that blather the British Torries spewed about Victorian values during the dark days of Margaret Thatcher. Precious’s life is intertwined with that of the conspicuously honest auto mechanic and garage owner, Mr. JLB Matekoni.

In each of the six books, Precious solves small problems in people’s life while slowly chipping away at the major mystery. As each mystery is resolved, both the major and minor puzzles, precious works out her own resolution to the problems she uncovers.

There is something amazing about these books, possibly in the writing style. I cannot come up with a good reason why I like the books, but I do. They are the ultimate feel-good escapist experience, although there are crimes involved.

Sweet thing No. 2

A couple of mourning dives have set up a nest in a poodle-trimmed bonsai tree in my neighbor’s side yard. The bonsai tree gives us a great view of the nest, we’ve watched them build the nest, sit on the eggs and deal with the baby birds, who are nearly two weeks old. The nest is about 10 feet from the neighbor’s living room window, so we can watch the action with binoculars from her house. Even a “trash bird” becomes attractive in this view. I suspect the bird has somehow arrived at the command of Maximon.

Our neighbor will remove the nest once the dovelets leave the nest, probably next week. Doves can have broods 6 or 7 time per year. That’s too many doves and too much guano.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Naked Brunch

He sat by the computer, realized his life is so pathetic there’s nothing worth writing about. Time to write about nothing.

It just appeared, right in a downtown parking ramp, the camper van. A big camper, with urban styling – tagged on the back. Why is this my camper? Where am I going? How can I fit this locomotive-sized thing through the parking ramp exit? Squeeze to get out, must be a weekend day – no one there to collect a parking fee. Driving on the road, going nowhere, why does this look like Parking Lot 60 in Madison, WI? Where am I now? What am I doing here, by Cabella’s in their campground? I don’t even go hunting or fishing. Damn it, fell into another wormhole of the mind. Who would think a wormhole could connect you to western Nebraska. The store closes at 9:00, frantic rush to buy ammo, sandhill cranes flying over soon, begging to be shot. Ancient Japanese scribes wrote that killing a Crane leads to 30 years bad luck. Damn, the secret to immortality! Haven’t killed one in 28 years, time to get to work. Oh no, here comes Jesus, wants to know where he can get his nails done. The end of times is near, careful with that flaming sword, josh. Are you trying to burnt he place down? Who wants to start eternity with a torn cuticle, he asks while sucking the tip of his pinky.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Vernal Pools!

We walked among vernal pools today!

We toured vernal pools this afternoon. Vernal pools are small seasonal marshes that form each winter in the little that’s left of native prairie in California’s Central Valley. The pools lie in poorly drained areas, so the pools are ponds in the winter, and slowly dry out in the spring. As the pools dry out, some beautiful plants seen nowhere else pop up.

The tour was led by the California native plants Society. Our docent was a youngish graduate student who is specializing in studies of invasive vegetation in vernal pools. He appears to be very focused in his advanced studies. I had to prompt him when he couldn’t remember the latin name for the California poppie, eschultsia sespitosa. Who could forget an official State flower whose name brings to mind imaged of the underside of an outhouse? He certainly knows his vernal pool biota, however.

When we first stepped out into the grassland, we could see the vernal pool culverts in the distance. They can be recognized by the blue downingia or the beautiful yellow flowers.

Those who demand facts from respectable sources can get the official story about vernal pools here.

The local vernal pool society publishes photographs of plants in the pools we visited. Latin and common names are included for the botanical minded.

Today’s weather was sunny and very windy. The blustering wind provided clear views in all directions. I could see the Sierra summit to the east, and Mount Diablo to the southwest. We don’t often get such fine views.

We went with three of our neighbors, so we had tea and tea sandwicheds after the trip. One of our neighbors (the very same neighbor who lives with maximon, the Guatemalan God-idol) just loves cut-out and fussy British tea sandwiches, so we acquiesced and made some. A good time was had by all.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Through The Looking Glass

Through The looking Glass

Two short quotes

“If you drink much from a bottle marked 'poison' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.”

“Curiouser and curiouser!”

I find myself looking to this classic lately. You can find quotations from wonderland here. The older I get, the more I take away from this book. Lewis Carroll must have had some experience with corporate or other bureaucracies.

I am aware of stories, some possibly true, about the disturbing nature of Carroll’s relationship with Alice Liddel. Shame on him. A lot of losers have written very good books, and he is dead so he can’t hurt anyone now. So there.

I am done traveling for a while. I had a one day very short examination of an auditor’s work papers in Los Angeles. A relatively painless same-day trip.

We are hoping to have our newly radioactive cat back home soon, however she won’t be able to sleep in our bed for a couple of weeks, to protect our health. By now she probably hates us anyway. The animal hospital says she is dong fine, and approaching a safe level. Radioactive cats; welcome to wonderland.

Tuesday morning had the longest security line I have ever seen. I am amazed I made my early morning flight. Fortunately, a couple of cheerful and humorous young women were directly in front of me for the forty minutes we had together in line. Passengers moved very fast through security. I was surprised to make the flight. Otherwise it was uneventful travel. I just found out my hotel was over the State’s limit for Orange County. We had to pursue a Division Chief to get the necessary forms signed. Travel reimbursement takes over a month, and about two hours of my time per trip. However the meals per diem allowance is reasonable. What a hemorrhoid this all is.

Speaking of hemorrhoids, I had my physical Monday. My only issue with my female doctor is that she needs to cut her fingernails shorter (at least one of them). I tested out OK for everything, and my Rx is extended for another year. I was surprised when she suggested politely that I might benefit from a “checkup from the neck up” but she’s probably right. Maybe I should see a therapist type person. However, I know several, and it concerns me that they are mostly loonier than me. I have a new doctor because my previous doc, an active younger guy, now works for Doctors Without Borders in Guatemala. He has already met a French doc there and they’ve married. Guatemalans probably needed him more than I do, so I guess its OK.

I need to think or do something more exciting next week to provide more interesting reading.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Travel, Travel, Travel

Next week will be my third week in a row with travel for work. Yuk.

I have somehow ended up involved in an onsite audit project that never seems to end. This is the first time in my life I have done onsite audit work, so it was interesting the first visit, the week before last. Last week I was away Thursday and Friday, and I’ll be onsite at a different location Tuesday this week. The strain of travel is dragging me down. One of my motivations in taking this job was the supposed little need for travel. It’s been decided I am the person needed to add professionalism to the audit function. Good for the taxpayers and beneficiaries, not so great for me. I always seem to get these things wrong. I should’ve acted less competent from day one.

The only reward has been the site and hotel are within a half hour drive of a southern California beach, and the audit team is pleasant, and the per diem meal reimbursement is reasonable, especially if you have a picnic on the beach at dinner. I need make sure this doesn’t become a lifestyle. I am left a little tired burnt out on the weekends. I feel like I am running out of energy. Phooey.

The general roles I have fallen into at work, in an archetypal sense, seem to resemble “Socrates” and “the hero’s helper”. Note, both characters consistently end up dead before the day is saved. I’ll say it again, I always seem to get these things wrong. I had better start buying lottery tickets. (Lola – you’ll know that I’d make a lousy noonaught)

I had a harmless eye hemorrhage last week, so the white of my left eye looks red and gross. I hope it intimidates the folks we are auditing, and I got to meet an ophthalmologist with a quirky sense of humor. He gave me a vision exam as well as looking at my eye, and I don’t need new glasses!

Our cat had her radiation treatment yesterday, hopefully we’ll be able to take her home next week. We’ll have to practice special safety precautions with the litter box for a week or two, until she eliminates the radioactivity.

We are having perfect weather, highs in the 70s and sunny. Kathleen is practicing for all her choir’s Holy Week music – they have 5 or so big masses the building up to Easter. They always do a great job, I’m sure they’ll nail it (heh, heh).

I volunteered to be elected Vice President of the Sacramento Recorder Society , however, I let myself get talked in to sharing the President position. The other co-president and I are already agreeing to ways we can make this as easy as possible next year, since we were both railroaded into this. We’ve already delegated doing the monthly newsletter, and we have an experienced treasurer, so hopefully, there will be little that we need to do beyond contracting teachers for our monthly playing events and planning one or two more major events. Plus board meetings that I already attend and putting up with everyone in the group. Robert (co prez) and I have discussed outrageous proposals we might put forward before the election, with the hope of generating opposition to steal the election. My idea was to require all event attendees wear their underwear on the outside memorize three Madonna songs on their choice of recorder. In reality, since there have been no contested elections for over a decade, we have no way out.

On the fun side, I’ll be grilling chicken tomorrow for an April fool’s day party with some of our neighbors. They beg for my grilled chicken, they love it. My secret is dong nothing to the chicken beyond sprinkling with a salt & pepper & garlic powder rub. Twenty minutes per side in a Weber kettle does the rest. Sometimes simplest is the best.

OK – after all this bragging, I admit I messed up grilled chicken once. I forgot to open the vents before closing the kettle. However, the pizza I ordered was yummy.

Yep, although life is full of work with its travel and nasty politics, yes, Virginia, there is still the occasional grilled chicken on a sunny afternoon.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Back Again, Hopefully to Stay This Time

Back Again, Hopefully to Stay This Time

It’s been nearly 6 months of state employment for me.

I have come to realize that my employment provides less than nothing in the way of creative outlets. I have also discovered I need a creative outlet not related to work, where the manifold sources job-related sturm und drang und angst cannot be safely discussed here. (Believe me, they are not that interesting, anyway) I wonder why the words for these feelings mostly come from German. May be a topic for another day.

So there, ladies and gentlemen, it’s back to the blog. I will attempt to post at least once a week.

Catching Up

My most recent previous entry is from early December 2006. I have been working since then, and trying to have a real life.

Last week and the next few months will feature some work-related travel, doing onsite work around the State. I am traveling with an enjoyable team, and the per diem reimbursement for meals is workable. Traveling really drags me down, I felt exhausted all day Saturday. I awoke Thursday in Southern CA with half the white are of my right eye bright red. Went to the doctor Friday AM and had some blood tests. I suspect the eye issue may be related to three pints of beer I had Wednesday night. In any event, it doesn’t hurt, isn’t completely abnormal, it just looks terrible. Traveling exposes my remaining physical issues. Just working and playing in my music groups, without travel stresses, wears me out sometimes. I will have to deal with that. I do not have the energy resources that most other folks have. Every day, returning to slackdom seems a better and better idea.

One more harp about working, in double Fibanacci form:

Spring
Is
Here now
Flowers bloom
Sunshine, wear T-shirts
Open windows, breeze, fresh indoors
Make working feel like
Murderer
Of joy
In
Life.

This is a pretty honest expressing of my feelings.

Ok, let’s get over work.

I have gotten more involved in the Board of the Sacramento Recorder Society. As of late, I have been getting less involved, since they are looking to replace the president. We had a successful workshop, which means we had enough paying attendees to clear costs. You can read about the details in my previous entry, or hopefully in a future issue of the American Recorder Society’s Magazine, which apparently isn’t available on the internet. I wrote a short article about the experience, including a totally irrelevant discussion of contemporary modifications to baroque trumpets.

We have had our bathroom totally and radically redone, it looks like a pricey hotel, brown style that looks like stone and all that comes with it. Once we figured out the shower area was leaking behind a wall, it became a priority. Next come the wooden floors.

Veterinary Woes

A more significant bummer is that Evita, our cat, has developed thyroid problems that pills can’t cure. It has been a bit of a sad drama, with the cat taking to spending almost all her time in the linen closet. We are taking her to a specialty vet for a radiation injection treatment next week. She’ll have to stay there for around a week, and she should be back to normal after that (this works for the vast majority of cases. Even after the treatment, I imagine we’ll have her for four or five more years.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Back to the Blog

By popular demand, I present to you an update to hangininsac. I am proud to say that reader requests were received by 100% of hangininsac’s readers (thanks, Lola).

It’s been a busy few months, since my last posting on October 10. I’ve been a full time Government employee as of about October 20. I am sorry to say I will not be able to rant, kvetch, moan, whine, snivel or otherwise discuss work at length, since work relates to public policy. However, I can say that, purely by luck, I have a great cubicle, and, even better, I have found a dive with great $4.00 Chinese take-out. I am a member of the mighty SIEU, through whose awesome might I will receive a (the bad news) 2.5% pay raise next year, whether or not anyone thinks my work adds value (the good news). POWER TO THE PEOPLE RIGHT ON!

I am finding life as a beaurocrat to be fascinating. Check out item number 12 in Shostakovich’s Beaurocrat’s Dance to hear a rather accurate interpretation. By the way, note this sounds like it is band music. Yeah!

Life is not about work alone. We are having the house painted along with some other interior work that needed to be done. I am so glad that we do this only once every 20 years or so. Next week it’s the bathroom and bedroom, so we will shack up with the DMIL. Good thing we get along so well.

K’s brother and his tribe came here for Xmas. The stayed with the DMIL, but I did most of the cooking for a big Xmas dinner. Turkey, ham we ordered from Nuesky’s in Milwaukee, buttery green beans, stuffing, mashed potatoes, jell-o “salad”, candied yams, green salad (made by someone else) and three pies (Other folks provided the pies). We are just getting through the leftovers (note – we finished the pies first). I think a 17 pound turkey and 7 pound ham might have been a little much for 11 people’s dinner.

I stuffed the turkey, even after reading Anthony Boudrain’s column in Salon.com, assuring me that this traditional and outmoded cooking method was certain to fatally poison all living creatures within 100 miles of the kitchen. I say, “bah humbug”. The food fascists will claw that stuffed turkey from my cold dead hands. I am glad to say there were no reported deaths after the dinner, which is pretty darn good, given two of the diners are octogenarians.

Once again, I gave in to DMIL pressure and basted the turkey. I am sure this is a total waste of time, but I am also sure that a few minutes spent basting is an age of peace bought cheaply.

Well, it’s New Years Eve. We are going over the neighbors’ (after watching the Packer v Bears game, of course – unless someone else there is interested). We all agreed we’ll celebrate the New Year with the Midwesterners, or possibly the Easterners, because we are a pathetic lot. Once again, I will be the sole representative of my gender at the event. I hope one of these days a gay male couple moves nearby, to even up the local m/f ratio.

The Recorder Society keeps me busy, both playing and board business. We are having an all day workshop in February. Read about it here Be there and party like it’s 1699. The teachers are great and somewhat renowned. Eileen Hadidian is famous for “healing music”, and has recorded a lot of new age-ish type cds. The sessions will feature 17th and 18th century northern music, so worries about being unexpectedly healed. Hanneke Van Proojdij H9ollands greatest contribution to northern California early music, will teach as well. She is one of my favorite music teachers. I have one of her recorder ensemble cds. Hanneke is the one with protruding tongue .

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I Am A Lazy Slob At Heart

I finished my project at le funque yesterday at noon, so I’ve had yesterday afternoon and today off. If you’re expecting a list of accomplishments, you‘ll be disappointed. My main accomplishments from this recent and possibly almost my last time off are (1) I took a great nap yesterday afternoon, (2) I went to band practice last night, (3) I went to a yoga a class at the health club this morning, and (4) at 4:30 today, I am finally writing a blog entry. I have been preoccupied over the last several weeks in activities best not shared through the blog medium. My two readers know what I’m up to anyway.

I finished reading a book about Greek and medieval science, “The Beginnings of Western Science”, by David Lindberg. I thought it was interesting, but I am pretty strange. The author’s main point is that these folks were not as stupid as we lie to think they were, and it’s likely we are not as smart as we think we are. I learned a bit about Platonic and Aristotelian philosophy. I was able to figure out (on my own) that the Newton – Apple incident is definitely a pile, since there’s a perfectly adequate explanation for falling apples that doesn’t require the creation of a new force in the universe, like gravity. The classical Aristotelian explanation would go something like this; the apple’s main elements are earth and water. It is their nature to exist below air (ever seen the ground or a lake above the air?). The tree took “heat” (we’d call it energy) from the sun to transport the elements to a position above their natural state. Once the apple is separated from the tree and its “heat”, the apple will seek its natural position in the universe – below the air. What could be simpler? This certainly makes a lot more sense than a magical force by which masses exert influence upon each other without even touching or emitting projectiles. By golly, if I was a legislator in Kansas, I’d introduce a bill requiring disclaimers for textbooks teaching this so-called theory of gravity. So there.

I found a pretty funny review of a Star Trek The Next Generation (TNG, as it’s known among geeks) Episode, written by none other than Wil Wheaton . A Dopey TV Website has the blog. This was the episode where the Ferengi were first introduced. They were intended to provide an enemy as good as the Klingons in TOS (the original series). He takes savage cuts at the Ferengi, as well as the great Star Trek Dialogue. However, he does credit Armen Shimmerman for creating an interesting Ferengi race in DS9.

Disclaimer: While writing this entry, to the best of my knowledge I wrote no explicit IMs to any Blogger pages, or anyone else for that matter.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

WALMERIKA!

I
Shopped
MalWart
This morning
No other place for
What I needed to buy today
“Abandon all hope, those who enter these gates” it’s said
Unhappy looking ugly folks
Staff and customers
Unpleasent
So glad
To
Leave.

What I did last Week

I
Spent
Last Week
Working for
The man, yes again
Contract work, stop and go, off, on
I am guilty of the sin of greed, the dollar’s slave
Selling time for a daily wage
I had no better
Plan to spend
Last week
Shame
Shame

Recipe Time in The Kraft Korporate Kitchen

Just last night, while lying in bed, I was thinking, "man, I could really use an orange Tang flavored bacon bar cookie". If you have also had this craving, rest assured you are not alone. The Kraft Korporate Kitchen has the recipe. My favorite comment is, "looks like a poor man's haggis."

Interestingly enough, several of the comments appear to be positive. Tang, Bacon Bits and cereal, they're not just for breakfast anymore.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Yet More About Me, Me, Me

First - A note to my two readers

After some correspondence with a reader in Wisconsin, it has come to my attention that not all site visits are recorded on Site Meter (I guess you get what you pay for when it comes to free internet services). Therefore, you may not be my only two readers.

Now, more about me, me, me

Yoga Class

I have been taking some free classes at the gym taught by William Star. He is a good yoga teacher for where I am, although his website is positively weird on an intergalactic scale. Doing his yoga routines at home seems to make a pretty good workout for me. I feel lighter on my back & feet on days when I do some of the exercises. His routines focus on integrating the various poses into smooth routines, like you’d do in tai chi. Most of the yoga teachers run things more like tumbling in school gym class. Everybody tries to hold a weird pose and we see who collapses first. I stink at that. I also think it’s cool he is a mover in his late 50’s and he can’t sit in a lotus position.

I am not sure why I am running into so much strangeness lately. Must be a benefit of my recently breaking free of the nine-to-five grind lately. I kind of enjoy it anyhow.

Travel coming up

I actually got off my duff and planned a trip to Madison for next month. That should be fun. Hopefully this year’s hot Midwest summer will be long gone by then. I haven’t made any specific plans about what to do while there yet. I just intend to enjoy time to be together with some folks there, and maybe have a beer or two.

Work coming up

I will start tutoring in September, with some one-off review sessions starting next week. Ambitious parents of unmotivated kids are starting to get nervous (for a change), although school doesn’t start until the last week in August. I expect to get mostly geometry, algebra 2 and beyond students, since I am working with an eight grade teacher who does algebra, but leaves the rest to me.

Names for my Recorder Consort

I have been thinking about better names than Sine Nomine (which means “no name”) for my Friday consort. Further, the Vatican Institute for Music already uses the name for their Renaissance music group. I actually did some google research, and found these names to be unused;

Consort Gothica – we have earned the right to call ourselves gothic, and we are truly more gothic than any teen with dyed black hair (unless she plays really old music or writes horror/mystery tales). This is my first choice.

Sacragothica – kinda cool, but it sounds like an historic lower back pain.

Benny & the baroques – probably not a contender

A Baroque Cacophony (ABC for short) - I like this one.

DerBlokfluitenmeisters – this doesn’t do it for me.

The Fippletones – Recorders have a fipple in them

Familia Fipple – this is getting strange

The Sorrowful Slackers – from an old song title, not too attractive.

Dear readers – feel free to express your opinions. I promise they’ll be ignored.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

A Day in The Life of The British Navy

Another entry in the "Why not the wierd" category. This killed me. Leave it to the British. This is pure pommy pandemonium.

Warp Factor Love

This one takes the cake for strange. I give his video two thumbs up. This guy really has a heart of targ.

Warp factor Love. . . I Don’t Care About the Prime Directive

You can see the entire hour long documentary, about a man who devoted his life to an obsession with William Shatner at Auto Destruct

Thanks to Will Weaton's WWDN for spotting this. WWDN is now hosted on Geek and Proud. WWDN is a good read, with the exception of when WilWesly talks about poker. It was reading WWDN that inspired Hangininsac. Alas, I imagine WilWesley has a few more readers than yours truly.

That's my story and i'm sticking to it.

Jimmy Cracked Corn and I Don’t Care. . .

Master’s gone away.

I have made a couple of calls to le funque last week, and haven’t heard anything back. The threat (or opportunity) of another project looms vaguely in the future, but I can deal with that when it happens. I have been enjoying pretty nice weather, otherwise I haven’t been very productive. Have been doing more reading, cleaning up the garden, getting some publicity for the Sacramento Recorder Society’s fall events, but otherwise more or less hanging out. No madcap projects have arisen so far, but some things are peeking over the horizon.

I am thinking about spending some time and energy to support grassroots efforts aimed at crushing Sacramento County’s financially embarrassing proposal to build an arena with the sole objective of enriching the carpet bagging Maloof brothers. Sacramento needs to grow up, and this hooterville deal isn’t how it is done. This one area where I am a conservative, not a Republican Party crony conservative, rather a true conservative. I believe that given the legal ability to form corporations, sound private financial proposals belong in the private sector.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

The fallacy of Intrinsic Fit.

This illustration depicts the fallacy that a calling stems from a match of your skills to your job. From http://ww.pobronson.com. We must have met at some point.

Readers Write - Introducing the Reverse Fibonacci

A reader sent me the following two Fibonacci haikus. Note the introduction of the “reverse fib” structure.

I
wait
to leave
stark boring
cubicle of doom.
Cool beer, warm circle of friends - soon.
Time creeps too slowly.
I dread each
minute
left
here.

The next work is attributed to my reader’s friend who will remain anonymous, because he recently changed his first name. I have not seen him since the change, and I can’t remember his new name (my apologies to Mr H).

I
work
because
so far no
lottery ticket
with winning numbers has been found
in my possession.
How unfair.
I grieve
for
me.


“Dear Reader”, as Miss Manners and English students in Korea say, provided the first seven lines of the next haiku, and I provided the rest.

It
is
hot here
and I must
rehydrate often
or I melt like warm Velveeta
on the dashboard of a pickup in a Walmart lot
an “Inconvenient Truth” melts me,
my brain, an ice cube,
liquid in
the hot
sun’s
rays.

That’s
My
Story
and I am
sticking
to
it.

Elizabethan Hit Parade

I must be a trend setter.

Early music is becoming trendy for superannuated British pop stars! All of a sudden, we are seeing Sting and Elvis Costello recording John Dowland, trying to convince everyone that they were into early music “first”. The Guardian and The Independent have both recently had articles on this new 300 year old trend. In the Guardian’s words, “Party like it’s 1599”.

These Brits are obsessed with John Dowland, probably the first British songwriter, although he may have been actually Irish. No one is really sure.

Back in this State Capitol, I am waiting for the pleasures and perils of fame to arrive. I expect my group’s (Sine Nomine’s) popularity to skyrocket, possibly to the stellar realm where we might even be able to raise an audience without playing at other peoples’ church services. When we attract more than five unrelated individuals, then I’ll know we’ve turned the corner. But don’t worry, I’ll always remember the little people.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Another Fibanocci Haiku

Oh
to
not be
working now.
Life in my timeframe.
I move at a leisurely pace.
Peaceful work at worthwhile tasks brings happiness to me.

So Ends Another Chapter in the History of Snivelization

I need to write here more often.

I am finding myself in a place where I have to start actually thinking once again about where or what I want for my place in this world. My current work appears to be drying up, and the only alternative I have found to date will not be suitable due to an unmanageable commute. The few commutes I have made for interviews have been exhausting for me, and although they are a high quality outfit, their mission and values are far out of line with mine. That is a recipe for unhappiness and despondency if I have ever seen one. I have to face up to the reality that I am not back to full strength. I cannot force myself to give up everything I do outside of work just to be employed. It is the whacky stuff I do like playing in the Concert Band and my recorder group that make my life good. I may be heading for a period sans income des big bucks. Maybe I can use this time creatively.

Although I haven’t been officially sent packing from the current very long temporary job, it appears the project is completed, and there isn’t much to do. That’s OK, I can use some time off this week. They may in time come up with another project, it’s hard to tell what’s in the plans given the relatively little communication I get. Therefore, I may find I have more time for blogging in the near future, as well as visiting the parents and my only reader (you know who you are) sometime in the next few months. I might want to wait a while until the weather in Wisconsin is nicer.

I can use this time to get into better shape. I spruced up my bicycle over the July 4th weekend, so we (the bike and I) are ready to go. I am thinking of putting at least a few miles on the American River Parkway tomorrow morning. That is a great place to go and I have missed it while working. I can also use my health club membership that I haven’t used for months. I may try to get a fuller schedule of math students next fall as well. The tutoring business has been pretty slow this summer, a lot of people have purchased tutoring franchises in the last year. I suspect most of them will be out of the business within the next 4 to 6 months. There just isn’t enough money in this to amortize a franchise fee, pay for rent, insurance and supplies, and provide the kind of income franchisees usually expect. The place I tutor has been in business for 20 years, and the owner (who, by the way, is a pretty cool guy) expects to stay in the business. This doesn’t pay a lot, but the work is enjoyable and pretty easy if you remember everything you learned in high school.

In the words of my slacker hero, Ernie Zelinski, “Hard work pays off in the future, laziness pays off now.”

That’s my story a and I’m sticking to it.

My New Neighbor is a Guatemalan Demigod

Maximon has moved next door! He is a demanding god, popular in rural Guatemala. Read about Maximon here.It is important to spell his name correctly, or else on google you will find out all about maximan, an herbal male enhancement product. His name is pronounced “moshymun” in English phonetics.

Maximon demanded we provide fireworks in his honor on July 1. We and our mildly insane neighbors had a great time. You can see how happy this all made Maximon. Maximon was pleased, so life in the neighborhood can go on without the wrath of an angry god. Maximon watched the fireworks from his garage. As you can see from the picture, Maximon likes to be surrounded by women more than men. He granted me this audience since I made him gazpacho. I am the only guy in five houses in a row along our street. I am glad maximon appears to be adopting well to his new country.

Here's Maximon enjoying the fireworks.

My neighbor took an extended trip to Guatemala last year, and Maximon came home with her. Life around here has never been quite the same since. Personally, I credit Sacramento’s relatively mild summer weather to the traditional gifts of liquor and cigarettes we have presented to placate our local god. We must keep Maximon happy, and he will keep us happy, as my neighbor tells it.

Kathleen has a coworker from Guatamala whom we have introduced to maximon. We were a little hesitant at first, but fortunately they (coworker and husband) got a real kick out of him. On their last visit to Guatamala, they came back with candles for maximon. You can see the candles in tall glasses in front of my knees.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Only In California

I quote from the official voters’ guide for June’s primary election:

Democratic Party candidate statements:

Cruz Bustamonte

I will be an Insurance Commissioner who will make rates affordable, guarantee access to insurance, and bring health insurance under the regulatory authority of that office. But I’m starting my campaign someplace different. With myself. Insurance rates reflect not just the behavior of insurance companies, but the behavior of Californians as well. And some of that behavior is not very good. Some people commit insurance fraud, some drive recklessly, or under the influence. And some people don’t take steps to protect their children or their homes or their workplace. But the biggest factor in insurance costs is people not taking care of their health. In my case, it’s my weight. A study by the US Department of Health’s Centers for Disease Control and Prevention concluded that obesity in California costs $7.7 billion a year. I want to become an example to others to lead healthier lives by losing weight myself. Fighting the obesity epidemic will lower insurance costs. I will keep my progress and program on my website. (Unlike other political websites, this will be a site dedicated to noncommercial health and nutrition information.) If you or someone you know would like to start trying to live a healthier life, join me at “StartWithCruz.com.”

The voters’ guide is meant to provide a forum for candidates to briefly state the main points of their platforms. The insurance commissioner is an elected office in California, and “the Bustinator” is the Democratic Party’s chosen candidate for the position. Although the weight loss website is pretty cool, I can’t believe this is the main thrust of his campaign!

I work in health insurance in California and deal with some basic issues every day. California’s head resides under several swords of Damocles; a high percentage of Californians without health insurance, emergency rooms closing throughout the state, poor access to healthcare in rural areas, insidious health insurance related fraud, and health insurance contribution increases outpacing citizens’ wage and salary increases. Auto, home and liability insurance in the state each have their own litany of woes as well. Under the current do-nothing Republican as well as previous Democratic administrations, these problems have been ignored and allowed to fester, while wage earners watch increasing proportions of their income eaten up by health care and auto insurance costs, supporting record California HMO profits in the last few years.

I admit I don’t have the answers, but come on Democrats, at least attempt to propose some kind of solutions, beyond saying that the commissioner will regulate insurance. Of course, if you’ve already been richly paid by the insurance industry to not do that, then keep up the good work. Just blather on about your weight problem, and ignore the real issues.

You are making the Peace and Freedom Party look like a good deal.

Their candidate for insurance commissioner, Tom Condit of Berkeley (surprise, he’s from Bizerkeley) proposes;

I advocate putting human need before insurance company profits. Let's publicly fund and manage a single system of quality health care for all, a state basic auto liability plan, and a single workers' compensation fund. I will fight discrimination based on race, sex, age, or geography.

These may not all prove to be great ideas, but these are ideas.

Cruz – I completely agree it’s for the best that you go on a diet. I hope your website helps others take better care of themselves. Hopefully this November, you will be freed from the encumbrances of public service, and you’ll be able to devote your full time efforts to fitness. Who knows, maybe you'll be the next Richard Simmons!

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Mr Rogers Went to Washington

In 1969, Educational television’s future was looking bleak.

Mr Rogers Testified to Congress and managed to win restored funding. I really can’t add anything to what he said, so I thought I would let him speak for himself. In the words of Iggy Pop, “Mr Rogers is a real decent guy. I wish everyone could be like him.”

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Meditation Retreat in Tomales

Last weekend, we attended a retreat at Blue Mountain Center of Meditation in Tomales. It was a quiet but highly scheduled weekend, designed for people who are experienced with Easwaran’s eight point program. The retreat was in a well- refurbished old mansion in Tomales, with a couple of field trips. I found this to be a good experience, and we had beautiful weather as well.

We all arrived between 4:00 and 5:00 on Friday afternoon, and spent about an hour getting to know each other. We meditated for a half hour and had dinner. The food was good, which is not a surprise, given one of Eknath Easwaran’s earlier followers was Laurel Robertson, author of Laurel’s Kitchen.

Among the instructors for our retreat were a couple training to be retreat leaders. They are both doctors at Kaiser somewhere in Southern California. Their experience added a lot to the retreat, since they could share experiences related to living a hectic and busy life, being doctors and raising kids. They gave the retreat a more down to earth feel.

The other retreat participants were a pretty interesting bunch, including a younger couple with 3 year old triplets, another physician, two or three therapists, three nurses, a guy about my age who had a liver transplant a few years back, an adherent of 12-point programs, and a mother and her two young adult daughters. Everybody seemed to get along pretty well.

Most of the other participants seem to go to one or two retreats a year. Many feel close to each other, giving meal times somewhat of a reunion atmosphere.

After dinner we had an evening instructional program where we discussed our meditation practices and mantra. The sessions were more like discussions than lectures. The session ended with a videotaped talk by Easwaran, the founder of the BMCM. Easwaran died in his 80s in 1999. His talks were interesting and entertaining. I found I preferred the older talks, he seemed a bit peppier when he was only in his 60s. We went to bed early to prepare for Saturday. Man, that place was quiet.

Saturday opened with a meditation session at 6:30. We awoke early, showered and had coffee so we wouldn’t be as likely to nod off during mediation. Meditation was followed by quiet time and then breakfast. Breakfast was made by the handyman, who had a very friendly 20 year old cat hanging around looking for attention. More workshop, more meditation and lunch followed. We had an afternoon field trip to the walk on the local beach, which was very pleasant. Just before going to Dillon beach, we watched a video of Easwaran and his wife walking on the same beach, holding hands and (at least we were told) repeating their mantra. It was a nice walk, but the wind off the ocean was cold. I cheated, I didn’t repeat my mantrum all the time.

After we drove back from the beach, we had an hour and a half of free time. We walked around Tomales, which is a town of about 500 people or so. At this point, I had half a mind to visit the local tavern and get juiced. We just walked back to the retreat house. The break was followed by more workshop, meditation and dinner. We had steamed broccoli, and tasty oven roasted potatoes with a peanut sauce. That was a good dinner. The lunches and dinners all had home made cookies and sometimes brownies available as well.

Sunday was a half day, starting with meditation, quiet study and breakfast. We drove out to Ramagiri ashram, just outside of Tomales. This is a former monastery Easwaran bought and set up as a publishing house, small farm and ashram. We all were greeted by Christine Easwaran, who appears to be running things at Ramagiri. We took group pictures, and had a tour of the facility. I have to be honest and say the place creeped me out a little. I got over it.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Calling All Concert Band Groupies

For all those band music fans out there, the Sacramento Concert Band Will appear Monday Night at The beautiful and historic St Francis Church just across L Street from the even more historic Sutter’s Fort.

The band features the hanging guy himself in a tux, no less (that is, if playing non-principal second clarinet counts as being featured. In any event, I am featured as the stage manager. That’s the guy who gets there early and counts stands and chairs. The program includes several “serious pieces”, including Gordon Jacob’s “Original Suite for Military Band" and the Martin Lauridsen’s “O Magnum Mysterium”. “Pops tunes” include works by Hoagy Carmicheal and George Gershwin. By the way, did I mention the concert is FREE? I honestly ask you, does a Monday night in Sacramento ever get better than this?

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

A Night At The Opera

We went to see the local university's annual opera, put on by the California State University Sacramento Music Department.

They did a kick-assidly good performance of Don Giovanni. Let the record show that it was in Hangininsac that the first use of the word “kick-assedly” appeared in an opera review. No doubt the New York Times will steal this and claim it as their own.

Featured in the title role was Schola Cantorum ’s very own Eugene Chan. He was brilliant, although it’s always funny seeing someone you’ve known as a boy in the choir playing the amoral seducer. As in all university productions I have attended, the orchestra was great. Those kids make me realize that in the woodwind area, I basically suck. Good thing I have no pretensions in that direction beyond having a quirky hobby.

I recommend this opera to anyone in the area who has the time-lost ability to sit still for three hours.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

An Appeal To Reason From Great Minds

Recent developments have made me start thinking about the wisdom and sanity of the various approaches to managing relations among nations. In my mind, the unspoken reality is that technology has advanced to the point that even talking about a nuclear oligopoly keeping the nuclear peace simply will not work in the 21st century. I believe we are at a crossroads, where the futility of attempting to control nuclear weapons in a world full of bellicose nations becomes self evident. The Soviet Union’s rather speedy development of a nuclear arsenal in the late 1940s and early 1950’s raised similar questions.

The greatest minds of the day rose to the challenge. Their response and vision is summarized in the Russell-Einstein Manifesto, first issued July 1955 in London. You can read it for yourself here. http://www.pugwash.org/about/manifesto.htm

The manifesto brought to bear the realization that with two nuclear powers competing, the idea of reliance on military means to address international conflict is not acceptable. It seems to me that with numerous nuclear powers, the agenda becomes far more immediate than in the 1950’s.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Enumerating Binomials for Fun and Profit

Going from the sublime to the ridiculous, let’s talk about my favorite subject, me. My full time at work has been extended two weeks into May. Since I had expected to be about half-time, I have a lot of commitments outside of work. Funny they are a little irked at me, since I will miss several partial days in order to keep my commitments. I’ll be involved in pursuits far more enjoyable and suitable than they can provide.

In any event, I actually was able to use the binomial theorem to solve a real and immediate problem involving individual and family – level payment limitations. A note to snotty high School Students who like to ask, “When will I ever use this?” Well, I learned this in Algebra 2, and I made about $500 using it for a couple of hours.

That's my stroty and I'm sticking to it.

My My Hey Hey, I Heard An Angry Voice of Hope Today!

Neil Young has pre-released his soon-to-be-released record on the internet. Hear it here:
http://www.neilyoung.com/. Mr. Young has raised quite a buzz. I listened to the entire album, and I am thrilled. The album speaks to me, to my deep feelings betrayal and heartbreak at what a small group of criminals and their unwitting dupes have done to the world’s greatest country, and the unfortunate citizens of other countries who happen to cross their murderous path. Forming the backdrop to Young’s unapologetic lyrics is a nearly religious optimism that, starting with appropriate remedial action, i. e., “Let’s impeach the President”, America can and will be great once again.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Hey Ho Let’s Polka

Punk Rock Accordian Classes!!! Clarinets welcome!!! In the name of “Our lady of Anarchy”, I think this guy is serious. Check out his website – http://www.henriducharme.com/contemparr2.html . His page even has some samples for your listening pleasure, not to mention the shock and awe. Ramones and Sex Pistols, all stuffed into one squeezebox. Bob and Darlene’s in Milwaukee has nothin’ on Oakland, nothin’ I tell ya.

I have half a mind to try to team up with this guy (accordion and clarinet) and become famous rock stars. We'll make the Schmenge brothers look like a two-bit comedy routine!

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Another Fibanocci Haiku

This
Day
May be
For ever
A day lost to time
The relativistic impact
Of fluorescent lights in modern work environments
Causes time to stand still, energy to become mass and the minutes to move like hours.

Haikus for Geeks

A
True
Wonder
The use of
Recursive concepts
In the writing of haiku verseIt makes my heart sing like a young Algebra student!

This new breakthrough in structured verse comes to us via a math geek with a blog. The syllables in each consecutive line follow the Fibanacci sequence (1,1,2,3,5,8,13. . .). Each number in the sequence is the sum of the two preceding numbers.


See gottabook.blogspot.com for the birth of this math geek blog game that has transformed the world of poetry in a short, two week period. Okay, so I accept transforming the world of poetry is not the biggest deal in the world. I also am beginning to think maybe iot doesn't take a lot to rock the wrold of poetry.

Don’t take my word for it, read about it in the NY times: Fibonacci Poems Multiply on the Web After Blog's Invitation .

That’s
My
Story
And I am
Now sticking to it.

Now, Let’s Talk About Me, Me, Me

It’s been a busy few weeks, and I am feeling pretty tired. I have to play a band concert tomorrow night, after that I should be able to take it easy. My major project at work is really done, except for tying up some loose ends. I will reduce to 24 hours per week effective May 1, then in theory down to 2 days per week in June. We have lots of fun vacation time planned for June, so much fun it’s possible the bosses won’t be able to stand seeing someone having so much fun. I am making every effort to be cooperative (however without putting out too much effort) so they might consider another consulting engagement when they have their busy time next year. It is fortunate their busy time corresponds with the local rainy season.

Per usual, I really do not have any plan or long term vision for where I want my life of work to go. I think that I am a very lazy person at heart. The deal is that I am no less ambitious than anyone else, it’s just that I am truthful with myself. Maybe I should become a motivational speaker. Blah,blah,blah.

I should probably come up with some immediate plan for something besides being a bum in the near future. I am talking about getting more math students for the summer. Parents like giving their kids tutoring in the summer, so they don’t forget everything. Summer tutoring is a little more fun than tutoring during the school year, since I get to hand out a lot of homework, and I get to hear the kids whine. Tutoring will probably be good for about 2 or 3 afternoons per week. High School kids are too lazy to get up for morning sessions.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Einstein on The Planet of the Apes - It's About Time

Thought I’d pound in another entry while listening to BBC World Service (Whilst listening, as they would say).

It’s been rainy ‘round here, so we’ve been spending our time indoors. I have been working on playing a new soprano recorder that came in the mail last week. I feel like I am catching up pretty fast, however I will never enjoy the very high vocal range of that instrument. We’re talking piccolo range here. Soprano recorders are tuned in C, while alto recorders like mine are tuned in G. If you want to be respected by other recorder players, you need to be able to read music and play in both tunings. I started all this because my group which normally rehearses on Fridays is taking two weeks off.

What about Planet of the Apes, you may ask. I read an interesting article about the Theory of Relativity and Euclidian Geometry in the Science Column of The Magazine of fantasy & Science Fiction. The article is here: http://www.sfsite.com/fsf/2006/pmpd0604.htm . The point of the article is that you can use a pretty cool thought experiment and the Pythagorean Theorem to calculate the relative passing of time from an astronaut’s versus earthbound perspective. The explanation is clear and the math is pretty easy to follow (you need nothing more than H S Algebra 1 and the Pythagorean Theorem, and some serious thinking time to set things up).

After about a week of messing around with diagrams of time and space viewed from two alternate frames of reference (me in Sacramento, and a fast spaceship with a light bulb within), I finally set it up so I could work out the time dilation factor from first principals.

I finally got it right during one of my High School Geometry tutoring sessions. A couple of the kids got a kick out of this, which is a good thing. Geometry is much more interesting when you can use the Pythagorean Theorem to figure out how fast the astronauts in “The Planet of the Apes” needed to go to make any sense out of an otherwise goofy movie. The formula reads: K=1/(1-V^2/C^2)^(1/2). K is the dilation factor, which represents how many years I’ll age here in Sacramento while the astronaut ages one year. V is the astronaut’s velocity, relative to my frame of reference in Sacramento, and C is our old friend, the speed of life, equal to the square root of energy divided by mass for reasons I do not comprehend.

What is interesting is that even at 90% of the speed of life, the astronauts only age about 2 years and 4 months while I age one year. The “Planet of the Apes” ship must have been traveling close to the speed of light. As write this, Pythagoras is probably turning circles in his grave.



Ender and Valentine Wiggins must have been traveling at about to have experienced their aging effects, they would have needed to travel at many time the speed of light (between 10 and 50 C, I am too lazy to research the novels) to reach other star systems, so they lie outside of the range of values for which this formula, as well as anything else I know about physics is relevant. It’s good not to let the science constrain the fiction.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Living the Big Lie

First I promise to remember to spell check my entries. My hands manage to drift out of home position, allowing anarchy to reign. Maybe that can be my late New Year’s resolution. Every time I make a blog entry, I look at the last entry, and end up spending the first few minutes editing out errors. Release before error checking. That is so Microsoft.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I am feeling less confident about finding another contract where I am working. I could use some time off. I never find the time and energy to exercise and do everything I should when I am working. I really fall into what only can be described as a drone pattern of the literate Kind. Get up, eat breakfast while reading the funny papers, go to work, go home, do the crossword puzzle, read some more, maybe play some music, go to bed and read some more. If there wasn’t a physiological need for exercise, I could probably live with this.

When not working, I find time for multiple weekly visits to the gym, long bike rides, sunsets, walks on the beach. Sacramento doesn’t have a beach to walk on. In any event, when I was single and did place a personal ad, long ago in beer and Kraut filled galaxy far away, I used a different formula. I wrote a mystery story thirty words at a time (30 words was the limit for a free ad). That was a pretty good ploy. I don’t know of what use this information will be for my loyal readers, since they’re both married. I can’t believe I have a blog with only two readers. Better than none, I guess.

I was thinking about adding some porn-style language, but after that I’d have to wash my hands with Lysol before making another entry. Eeeeeuuuuuwwwww.

The Hanging guy and his sidekick K (just as likely K and her sidekick. . .) are planning a busy time in the pretty near future. A June wedding in Mendocino, a June trip up north, yes, this part of CA has an up north, too. It’s equally rural in that strange way, but the hills are a lot bigger.

In the interim, yet another local music organization’s board wants to nominate me. A board member of the local Symphonic Band Association asked if I would run. They are a much larger organization, with about 7 or 8 member bands, probably an average or 40 people per band. Board elections are often actual contests (they actually find more volunteers than positions) so I have a chance of dodging this bullet. Nobody ever asked me to join boards before. I suspect the last few years have smoothed some rough edges in my manner, or else these organizations are desperate.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Living the Big Life

Sitting in the background radiation dandelions sprouting in the front yard. Pull them out if they dare to bloom. Just like management practice. March, the first sign of spring. Listening to the radio. Habeous corpus, show me the body, George. They’re interviewing Guantanamo alumni.

A quiet Saturday night, time for a blog entry. Listen to "This American Life” and “A Prarie Home Companion”. Urban sophisticates and country corn. Too much.

Cleaned the house today, that’s news around here, possibly the first real housecleaning we’ve done in about a month or more. Looks and feels like a new place. We should do this more often. Only takes a couple of hours, but I still never quite get around to it.

Still working, likely I will get a new project that may span across several more months. Like it’s been for months, I anticipate this project will end sometime in the next few weeks.

I may be joining the Board of Directors of a local music society, looks like among the membership, I will be running unopposed. The society has a small budget, so it’s mostly a matter of arranging events, hiring the solo performers/directors, and making sure they show up.

I need to work less, so I can be involved in more blog-worthy expereince.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Turandot Meets the Little Mermaid

We went to the Local Sacramento Opera production of Turandot last night. http://www.sacopera.org/. The soloists, choir and orchestra were very good, although the large orchestra drowned out about half the vocal performances. Turandot’s arrangement must take after an Italicized version of a Wagnerian paradigm, since the orchestra (including at least 12 brass players) didn’t soften during the singing. The orchestra, in many songs, sounded like the Marine Band with a few strings thrown in. So you get the effect of choir and soloists attempting to scream over the orchestra. This opera always is presented this way.

Seated directly behind us in the nosebleed seats were about 6 high school girls, all in stunning formal gowns and looking good. They had bought the gowns just to wear to the opera. It was like a scene from an old Audrey Hepburn movie. Tierras, gloves, and everything. There were some similarly aged boys running around in ill-fitting rental tuxedos. The casting for Turandot assured that eventually we would get home, since the fat lady did finally sing.

I swear the libretto for this opera could have been written by Disneycorp. The plot in a nutshell:

Evil Princess establishes challenge – answer riddles and win my hand, fail and face the executioner. The comic choir of Taoist priests complain that far too many princes have been executed. They are tired of doing funerals.

Enter handsome stranger. He accepts the challenge. While singing about accepting the challenge, he is reunited with his long lost father and his father’s companion named Lui, a paragon of virtue and pureness of heart.

In his effort to win the princess’s hand, the Stranger allows Lui to face death by torture. Lui’s fate could have been changed by the stranger simply giving up his pursuit of the princess. Alas, that is not the way of opera.

Lui sings a beautiful aria, pierces her own heart with the princess’s hairpin, collapses in a heap, and the Stranger’s father dies of grief.

The princess has a sudden change of heart, marries the stranger, and they live happily ever after.

This ending brought back to mind my irksome thoughts about Disney’s The Little Mermaid (strange for a middle aged man, I know).

You may recall, both Andersen’s and Disney’s Little Mermaid sold daddy’s soul to the sea witch (archetypal interpretation of the devil). However, Disney’s mermaid lived happily ever after, while Anderson’s tragic heroine came to a tearful end appropriate with her callous and selfish behavior.

What lessons are these fables intended to teach? I can only hope that if Puccini had lived to complete Turandot, the ending would have been more of the 19th century tragic opera we’ve come to know and love. With the stars each singing their guts out and croaking in an orderly procession. Isn’t that what opera is all about?

Let’s leave “happily ever after” to the Disneys of the world.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Dinner in The Kitchen

From 8:00 in the morning, It started to look like a strange Thursday at work. The Director for whom I do most of my work called me in, said I was doing a great job, and gave me an Amazon.com gift certificate.

Quick aside:

I immediately returned to my office and bought a book: “The Left Hand of God”, by Michael Lerner. Although I haven’t yet reads the book, the premise is that the left can unseat the Neo-Fascist Right (Lerner politely calls them the Religious Right, but, as Saruman once said, “You know of whom I speak”). The left can do by this speaking to the same yawning spiritual void to which the right speaks today. However, the left can deliver a more rational and effective agenda, because the left supports causes that help and empower, rather than impoverish and subjugate American families. Expect more on this subject later.

Now, back to our previously scheduled program:

Early in the afternoon, I was called back to talk with the very same director. A marketing executive had scheduled a festive dinner that, night, but several of the employees she invited called in sick. I have always been on good terms with this executive. In the desperate search for breathing bodies, they asked me to come with my wife. “Sure”, I said, thinking “who am I to refuse a free dinner?” When they gave me the particulars, the deal got even better. Dinner was at The Kitchen Restaurant http://www.thekitchenrestaurant.com/ in Sacramento. The Kitchen has become a regional nouvelle cuisine food-snobbery icon, second only to Chez Pannise. The schtick is that the design is an open kitchen surrounded by luxurious seating, with the diners sitting around the area where the chefs do the final steps of preparing, a lot of sautee and plaiting activity. The one seating took about 4 hours.

After everyone was seated, the chef gave a short talk about the restaurant’s philosophy, “We’ll do anything your way as long as you don’t make animal right’s comments about my foie gras”. He showed us a trick involving hypnotizing lobsters to stay in a headstand. Pretty entertaining. Several time he repeated that guests are encouraged to ask for seconds at any time. He explained each course in excruciating detail, with great emphasis on reductions, truffles and foie gras, exotic sources of onions for soups, Kobi beef, which is a breed of cattle imported from Japan and bread in America. By this time, it all gets pretty fuzzy, since my hosts were buying what felt like an unending fountain of posh champagne, followed by reinforcements of pricey red and white wines, some in magnum bottles.

Course the First:


A pasta pillow (read loosely wrapped ravioli) stuffed with Bolognese sauce in a beef reduction that was rich, slightly salty and delicious. The Bolognese had very little resemblance to the Hamburger Helper product of he same name.

Course the Second:

French onion soup garnished with teenage chives and thin slices of black truffle, you know baby vegetables are so nineties. Very good soup. This joint is so nouvelle, even the soup has food piled up in the middle of the plate. I never had imagined anyone would balance a crouton on its side with a crust of burnt cheese balanced on top. I think there were grilled thin slices of foie gras in the soup, but I was too pleasantly overwhelmed to notice.

Course the Third:

The fish course. A lightly breaded and fried pie of a fish I had never heard of stacked (for a change) atop a small handful of baby greens sitting atop very tasty chunks of lobster and crab meat. The food tower emerged from a shallow lake of a light broth (likely chicken stock) drizzled with a cross between aoli and Mrs pauls red seafood sauce. The tower and plate were sprinkled minature hushpuppies. These were not you father’s hushpuppies! These babies wee almost solid crab and lobster meat, with just enough cornmeal and egg to hold them together. They were scrumptious.

Break:

We were invited out to the walled patio, warmed by a raging fire, for oysters and sashimi. The oysters were a smaller tasty variety, most oysters in northern California are over six inches long and best served bar-b-qued in the shell. The sashimi was excellent, even the octopus, which was sliced paper thin and not rubbery. The chef made great noise about the real wasabi he hand grated for us. Tasted just like the stuff from the grocery store. At this point I started feeling some concern about my capacity to continue eating. Don’t worry fans, I toughed it out. We took the break as an opportunity to chat with guest at some of the other tables.

Course the Fourth;

Meat! Slices of perfectly grilled medium rare beef, served over a delicious brown gravy, and a wild mushroom tart. This was the most popular course with most of our table. About half the party asked for seconds. I thought about asking for A-1 sauce, but thought better of it. The mushroom tart was one of the tastiest moments of a very tasty evening for me. By this time, I had noticed a conspicuous lack of vegetables, but they had no prune wines in stock.

Desert:

Desert was relatively modest, featuring a scoop of blueberry sorbet and a small piece of a very rich chocolate tart. It was good. I was surprised to see a second desert appear, a scoop of palette-clearing Myers lemon and passion fruit sorbet. Although I was already full, the sorbet was unbelievable, very tart, but never pushing the envelope of too tart.

As we waddled out to the car, I was very glad The Kitchen is in our part of town. Most of all I am so grateful that my digestion cooperated. I actually slept most of the night!

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Protect Your Beloved Homeland From a Cartoon Conspiracy

Spring comes every year to Sacramento sometime in February. It has been a beautiful Saturday, sunny and temperatures around 70 or 75 degrees. We went for a walk by the American river, and we are going to dinner at the neighbors’ tonight. That sounds like a pretty good day, in my estimation.

The river has receded from its earlier flood stage, so the grass and trees near the river are all bent in the direction of the flow. Woodpeckers, harriers, and deer, the usual suspects, have all returned to the river’s edge. Everything is green, although the flowering grasses and other plants need a month or two before they come into their own, not bad.

I’ll be working at least until the end of February, not a bad deal. I figure the more money I can make in the short-term, the better. Colder and rainy weather is coming back as we speak, so more power to the Lords of Funk, if they want my time. They have hired another consultant to replace me (so I thought), but we just spend a lot of our high-priced time talking. Really not a bad deal, until I get a life.

Cartoons.

They haunt me. Have we let their conspiracy go beyond the point of no return?

I am starting to wonder if we are not falling into the cartoon dimension. First cartoon protesters, then a cartoon Vice President. This is Roger Rabbit all over again. I can smell this evil toon plot plain as carrots in the morning.

First, the world is rocked by “cartoon protesters. They chant their toon liberation slogans, such as, “If anvils are outlawed, only outlaws will have anvils.”

Oh my god; the toons have infiltrated the Whitehouse.

The perpetrators of this vast toon conspiracy had me fooled, but no longer. I thought he was Darth Vader, he turned out to be Elmer Fudd. Who else could be that irresponsible with a weapon? He fooled me by cleverly not using a disguise. Why just a few months ago, he was heard saying; Oooooh, I’ll bwast that wascally wiberal with a damaging secewity weak. If you don’t fowwow my evewy ordew, the tewwowists have alweady won. I’ll bwast that pesky owd lawer.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Snowshoes and Groundhogs

A truly eventful first week in February, with the coincidence of Groundhog’s Day and the State of the Union Address. We all watched a small-brained mammal come out of his hole to make a prognostication only an idiot would believe. We also saw the groundhog.

Dateline Sacramento. . . We’ve had a couple of beautiful days, morning fog giving way to sunny afternoons with highs in the 60’s. The warmer sunny winter days here are the best weather days of the entire year for me.

Now, something about me, me, me

I went to a very enjoyable “commemoration of recent firing” get-together for a gentleman I have gotten to know and like. I will code-name him Pedro, to protect the innocent. I will not even attempt to speculate as to what caused this manager to get canned, although it may have had something to do with his decency and competency (okay, okay, I am speculating, so sue me). That is not a popular management style everywhere. Over a 15 year career, Pedro has consistently been very popular with his staff, and a decent guy. I am sure he’ll be better off removed from that negatively biased senior management environment. He will be missed.

During Pedro’s last week, we talked about a snow shoe outing in the Sierras sometime in the near future. By the end of the beer-fueled evening, we may have an outing of over 10 people. Snowshoe rental facilities and capacity issues have already been addressed. Mrs Pedro has previously guided large outdoor trips, so I feel pretty confident we won’t have a Donner Party experience. Just in case, maybe I’ll bring some bologna for the most ravenous among us. I can’t wait. I’ve never been snowshoing. The mountains should be breathtakingly beautiful in the snow.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

February Limbo Again

It looks like it’s time to start another month (almost certainly my last) making the big bucks at the same old place. In some ways, I can’t wait to get out of there, but the work ahead of me is pretty easy, and I can handle it, and the money is good. I keep reminding myself I can make enough dough in February for this to actually make a difference. Heck, it’s February, the weather here sucks right now. If I wasn’t at work all day, I’d be sitting around the house waiting for the rain to stop. Upper management is providing much entertainment, that is, if you think watching “Survivor” is entertainment. They are in a phase of axing people, several so called permanent employees in middle management won’t be sticking it out as long as I expect to stay around. I am tryiong to plan an outdoors outing with one of the recently fired guys. Maybe we can go snowshoeing in March.

I had my first math students tonight. Both are Geometry students working on special triangles and the trigonometric ratios. They are a couple of pleasant girls, one certain of her future stardom on Broadway (for a change), and the other a quiet and possibly deep-thinking kid.

That’ my story and I’m sticking to it.