Thursday, March 05, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Being sick reminds me of, well, sickness stories.
At times inspiration comes at the oddest time. Inspiration can be long-forgotten memories, memories that you wish you could forget about. Time too, clouds memories, and at other times actually distort the event that really happened….for most people. I think that I’m recalling everything just about as it happened. (If you believe that, I’ve a bridge I can sell you, cheap.
It all started last night after a really nice dinner of Dungeness Crab and pasta. Sandi and I were both wanting some fresh crab, perhaps the last crab of the season. I went down to the dock and bought two live crabs from the dockside, Lilly’s Crab Stand.’ Lilly, now that I think about it bears a strange familiar resembelance to Myrtle in Orick. Remember, Myrtle is the one that owns the combination motel and trailer park, Myrtle's Pay by the hour Motel and Trailer Park.
So far, everything was going according to plan. We sat down to steaming hot fresh crab and the pasta. If you like crab, it was everything, fresh crab dipped in butter with a touch of garlic stirred in. If you don’t care for denizens that live their lives at the bottom of the ocean don’t reread the last paragraph again.
Everything was great until I woke up after going to the “Land of Nod” with a feeling that ‘I feel like I’m going to retch, quickly.’ It felt like the crab was reaching up with one of its large pinchers and grabbing my gizzard and trying to hoist itself back out. I lay there a minute, not quite believing that I was no longer in the “Land of Nod” but in a heightened state of panic realizing that I had about 2.23 seconds to get to a basin where I could dispatch the feeling in my stomach. If I would have had 2.24 seconds I would have not chosen the only sink in the house that doesn’t drain well. I’ll spare you all the details, but just suffice it to say, after I finished retching I couldn’t help but look at it and recognize that what was now contained in the basin was something a mother Velaciraptor may have regurgitated to feed her young chicks. A BIG Velaciraptor with many hungry babies. I half expected to see the arms and legs of some poor hapless victim floating in the sink. Just about that time Sandi got up wondering what all the commotion was about and offered some sage advice. “You should really try chewing up your food better.” Why is it that people offer this great advice only when the evidence is staring you in the face?
After about five minutes I was lying there in a fools paradise believing that I would soon start feeling better. It’s worked that way the last 53 years, why not this time? Just before I lay back down I tried to clean the sink by running some water, until I remembered that this was the only sink on the property that had a draining issue. I lay back down believing that the worst was passed. The worst had not passed. You might say that I was, even more successful the second time. This was one of those times when you can be too successful, and I was having success in spades. This time I noticed some of the vitamins I had taken earlier sinking. I was tempted to try to rescue the pills but came to my senses and let that brain flatulent pass.
Now, you may be wondering why I had made such an issue of getting sick and making you read this. I don’t very often get sick, but I like to think I’m above the rest when I do get sick, and I’m actually really tough. Sandi will argue this point with me. She always has to bring out her trump card and remind me that she has given birth to our two boys. Does anyone have any really good responses to this?
After I lay back down again a memory of my ‘old fishing days’ popped into my mind. There not really old, the age of Velaciraptors is old. Remember that brain flatulent I mentioned a minute ago? I think it may have taken a left turn at my cortex and manifested in a different way. BSIGM (before Sandi and I got married), I worked on a number of commercial fishing boats. You know the image, standing on the bow of the ship, much like that image in Titanic, the wind blowing through your hair, and her hair too, dreaming of the future to come. This wasn’t exactly like that. In fact, it wasn’t anything like the movie. There was no woman, the wind wasn’t blowing it was screaming with a cold spray coming over the bow, and the only thing I got to hold was Thomas Edison’s flashlight. It was that old. If I took the batteries out and held them under my armpit to warm them up the light MAY reach the anchor chain. You may be wondering at this point why I am remembering standing on the front deck of the boat. I’ll get to that in a moment. There was no future in the future of commercial fishing, but that didn’t stop me from arguing with my dad that there really is a great future in it. As it turns out, he was right, again.
My second experience with fishing was being hired as a deck hand on a commercial shrimp dragger. Even though I didn't have any idea what I was doing, the first two-hour tow, we pulled in about 5,000 pounds of salad shrimp. Lucky for us, that’s what we were fishing for. I knew that the shrimp sold at the dock for about $0.50 a pound. I did a few mental gymnastics and extrapolated out that since I had just made about $250.00, and the sun wasn’t even up yet. I’m not going to tell you about my first experience with fishing as it would just reinforces that fact that my dad was right, and I’ve already said that “He was right, again” so, sorry, I’m not going to bring it up. Since we were going to be fishing all day I figured if we could make a tow every two hours for 20 hours I should be able to make about $2,500 today. Boy, was I going to enjoy showing my dad my weekly check! I even started dreaming of buying my own boat at the end of the season. So, this is the “Great Secret” in Crescent City, this is how those fishermen buy brand new pickups every year!
Let’s just say that the rest of the season we never did have a tow like this. We had accidentally stumbled on the ‘Mother Lode’ of the shrimp grounds and we could never find it again. It did make me believe in those stories of those miners that trapped around in the desert for about a 1,000 years after finding the Mother Lode once never to find it again. At the end of the week I took home a whopping check of $268.00, and I had to scale down my purchase of the dragger I had set my eyes on. In fact I even had to forget about buying the new 4 X 4 Ford pickup. Shrimp season didn't turn out too well, but crab season was coming up!
Crab season, yeh, crab season. Being the eternal optimist that I am I agreed to work on crab gear without getting paid for two months prior to the season opener on Dec. 1. I had heard just enough stories of teenagers right out of high school making $10,000-15,000 in a one-month crab season to keep me inspired. Like a fool I agreed to work on the crab gear in a nice warm gear shed. Actually, it was only warm when I stood directly in front of the wood stove. Yeh, the very same one I had to keep full. Also, crab pots are heavy to move around and we had to move them around a lot for some reason. Well, as the Dec. 1 opener for the season was fast approaching we were all looking forward to dumping the pots in the water and catch some crabs. Money, money, money. The only thing that keeps a young buck motivated except for women, women, women. As it came closer to the Dec. 1 opener the skipper found more and more reasons to leave helping out to get the gear ready and make about five treks a day down to the harbor. I had a hard time complaining about this because this guy was a real live veteran. Now, that certainly beats the alternative type of veteran. He had actually got shot in the leg, and in fact he had a slight gimp in his stride. He said something to the effect of, “It hurts to stand for too long.” Who am I to complain about a veteran, especially given the fact that he had actually had a Purple Heart? He wasn’t bragging about it, it was just the way it was.
Well, as luck would have it the season didn’t start on Dec. 1. In fact it didn’t start until Dec. 20. It always happens, the DFG says the season starts on Dec. 1 as this is when the crab are usually filled out. Dec. 1 came and went. The price hadn’t been agreed to and the weather was too good. I think that there is an unwritten rule that states that crab season can’t start until the weather gets shitty. It never fails, if the weather is good, they won’t agree to a price. If the weather is dangerously nasty, “Cast off the lines, boys, we’re goin’ crabbin,’ “
The day generally went something like this; The skipper would announce the night before what time we’d go fishing. “Let’s meet at the ‘Chuckwagon’ at 2:30. The Chuckwagon was one of many “greasy spoons’ on the south part of town. In fact, it had gone through the 1964 Tsunami and there was still some driftwood on top of the roof. I think that owner left it on the roof so he could give the place a little class. I would try to correct the skipper by saying, “Don’t you think that’s kinda late? The ocean is going to be a froth by the time we get out there! What kind of lazy ass skipper am I working for? (actually I didn't say that, I just made that up)“ "2:30 in the morning, you goon,” he would bellow back. He always had these pet names for me that he liked to throw around to see which one would fit me better. As it turns out I answered to pretty much all of them, some under my breath and others audibly.
Waiting at the Chuckwagon went something like this. We all sat in booths, three to a seat, I would try to get there a little late so I wouldn’t have to sit in the middle of two guys that hadn’t changed their clothes since last shrimp season. When I did have to sit in the middle I would many times end up falling asleep listening to all the blather and provide a little entertainment for those on either side of me. I know that as I nodded off I probably looked like one of those ‘Bobble Head’ dolls with my head being pinballed from side to side by those on either side. Every once in awhile a table would empty out and the crew would walk as discretely and quietly as possible to the front door, trying to get an early start and not tell the others where they were going. This generally wasn’t very effective as everyone would mutter at the same time, “That dirty so-and-so, he’s probably going to get our there and run our gear too before we get out there. You have to keep in mind, not all of these fishermen are the fine, upstanding pillars of the community as you may think. Within about three minutes the restaurant would be empty, and the waitress would be cleaning the tables off waiting for the loggers to come in and dish out the same kind of stories. I know this because after my illustrious career as a fisherman I tried my hand at logging.
Back then the only way you could tell how rough the water was, or how tall the waves were was to stand on the front deck of the boat and using the aforementioned flashlight shine it toward the crashing sound right in front of you. Now, the boats have so many lights on them you’d think we were being invaded by the entire Russian Navy when the boats come back into port. If the waves came over the bow, they were really big. If all you could see was a bluish-greenish wall of water directly in front of you, it meant that a wave was going to engulf you and you were in imminent danger of being washed out the scuppers. The skipper always had an equitable way to see who was going to stand on the bow with the Thomas Edison flashlight; he would drag out two straws that he kept right next to his navigational charts. Come to think about it, those charts may have belonged to Tom too. The other crewman always drew first, especially on the flat days. He went out there and did his job, not getting wet at all. On the rough days I always drew first, and I ALWAYS did my job. It wasn’t until later that I figured out that maybe, just maybe, they knew something that I wasn’t privy too.
Since I was on the back deck I was the one to carry the pots and stack them neatly on the rear part of the deck whenever we had to move them. During my morning prayers in addition to requesting to come back with all my body parts I would always throw in something about not having to move crab gear. Meanwhile, the ‘block man’ would stand there operating the two ounce lever with his thumb and forefinger that controlled the hydraulics. Me, I’m grunting and groaning carrying these 80 pound pots on a pitching deck and he's already into smoking his second pack of cigarettes, yelling at me, and it isn’t even light yet.
For the first two weeks of the season, USUALLY, you could make about $1,000 a week. Remember, this was in 1978. When you’re experiencing this non-real universe you talk yourself into believing that this can and will go on forever. Rememeber? “non-real,” but it sure makes for good stories with your friends. I told a friend of mine that the first two weeks I had taken home about $3,000. That was all it took. The gluttony of mankind took over what little sanity he had and all he could say was, “Hey, if you hear of any boats that need a back deck man, let me know.” “Have you ever been on the ocean?” I asked him. “No,” he said, one of the few times he told the truth.
Being the good friend I am, I did ask around to see if anyone needed more crew. I didn’t tell the skippers that my friend got seasick taking a bath and had to take a dramamine before turning on the hot water when filling the tub. Boats need more crew for a variety of reasons; seasickness, extra crew on the backdeck, guys are too scared out there and put an application in for washing dishes at the ‘Chuckwagon.’ This was not for any of those reasons, the skipper just hadn’t started fishing yet. I told him to get some motion sickness pills and take them when we all leave the ‘Chuckwagon’ in the morning. The plan was for the two boats to run side by side to the fishing grounds, but as soon as we left the dock I could see that my friend may not have a future career as a fisherman. Before the boat was untied from the slip he was leaning over the rail, gazing longingly at the big boat I was on. To this I yelled over to him, “Let’s go fishing,” while making a motion of popping a pill and asking, “Well, did you?” In the excitement of getting on the boat he had forgot to take his motion sickness pill! I could see him take a package out of his jacket pocket and swallow one, dry. Now at this point the both skippers are backing their boats out of the slips and with a cloud of diesel smoke start motoring out of the harbor. “Maybe he’ll be OK,” I said to myself, not really believing it, but hoping none the less.
As we came out of the protection of the jetty into open water with the boats both in the trough I looked over and didn’t see my friend. “This isn’t good,” I said to myself, already scanning the water through the darkness looking for a person treading water. I looked closer to see my friend was kneeling on the deck with his nose just over the rail. Just about that time I see him convulse and a spray of coffee, pancakes, and bacon becomes food for the crabs. I see him lunge for something in the water and first think that he wants to retrieve a piece of bacon. Only later did I realize he was seeing what I saw last night; last night I saw my vitamins floating in the sink, he saw his motion sickness pill floating off behind the boat. Just about that time the boat pitched to the opposite side and I see him with a arm reaching out, now about 12 feet above the water. He told me later that when the boat pitched back he could still see the pill bobbing in the water. It’s unfortunate that he kept his eye on it though as the boat rolled back the other way, water washing across the deck filled his rain pants and boots with water. Remember, this was BRB (before rubber bands). Now everyone puts rubber bands around their rain pants and boots for these types of occasions. But, that wasn’t the worst part, when the boat pitched to the other side again, remember he is still on his knees leaning over the rail his arm outstretched reaching for his motion sickness pill. The boat rolled over so much that the water came all the way up to the gunwales. Unfortunately, he was in such a state of shock from the 44* running all the way up to the hinterlands under his rain pants, he forgot to retract his arm and the water went up his sleeve and down his chest. Now, mind you we’re still with in a stone’s throw of the inside breakwater.
Later, he told me that the seasickness passed and he was fine the rest of the day. The skipper told me that he climbed into a bunk and didn’t come out until they were tied up at their slip.
Moral of the story: Take your medicine and your sea sickness pills (1) before you get sick, (2) before you leave the restaurant. BTW, he did get that job washing dishes at the “Chuckwagon’ the next day.
Now, Dick will probably say, “Why didn’t Jim just tell us the moral first? He could have saved his a lot of blog space.”
In part, I wrote this to encourage everyone else to tell some stories of your early life. Certainly, it’s got to be more interesting than me telling about when I threw up! Remember, I didn’t go to academy!
Jim
It all started last night after a really nice dinner of Dungeness Crab and pasta. Sandi and I were both wanting some fresh crab, perhaps the last crab of the season. I went down to the dock and bought two live crabs from the dockside, Lilly’s Crab Stand.’ Lilly, now that I think about it bears a strange familiar resembelance to Myrtle in Orick. Remember, Myrtle is the one that owns the combination motel and trailer park, Myrtle's Pay by the hour Motel and Trailer Park.
So far, everything was going according to plan. We sat down to steaming hot fresh crab and the pasta. If you like crab, it was everything, fresh crab dipped in butter with a touch of garlic stirred in. If you don’t care for denizens that live their lives at the bottom of the ocean don’t reread the last paragraph again.
Everything was great until I woke up after going to the “Land of Nod” with a feeling that ‘I feel like I’m going to retch, quickly.’ It felt like the crab was reaching up with one of its large pinchers and grabbing my gizzard and trying to hoist itself back out. I lay there a minute, not quite believing that I was no longer in the “Land of Nod” but in a heightened state of panic realizing that I had about 2.23 seconds to get to a basin where I could dispatch the feeling in my stomach. If I would have had 2.24 seconds I would have not chosen the only sink in the house that doesn’t drain well. I’ll spare you all the details, but just suffice it to say, after I finished retching I couldn’t help but look at it and recognize that what was now contained in the basin was something a mother Velaciraptor may have regurgitated to feed her young chicks. A BIG Velaciraptor with many hungry babies. I half expected to see the arms and legs of some poor hapless victim floating in the sink. Just about that time Sandi got up wondering what all the commotion was about and offered some sage advice. “You should really try chewing up your food better.” Why is it that people offer this great advice only when the evidence is staring you in the face?
After about five minutes I was lying there in a fools paradise believing that I would soon start feeling better. It’s worked that way the last 53 years, why not this time? Just before I lay back down I tried to clean the sink by running some water, until I remembered that this was the only sink on the property that had a draining issue. I lay back down believing that the worst was passed. The worst had not passed. You might say that I was, even more successful the second time. This was one of those times when you can be too successful, and I was having success in spades. This time I noticed some of the vitamins I had taken earlier sinking. I was tempted to try to rescue the pills but came to my senses and let that brain flatulent pass.
Now, you may be wondering why I had made such an issue of getting sick and making you read this. I don’t very often get sick, but I like to think I’m above the rest when I do get sick, and I’m actually really tough. Sandi will argue this point with me. She always has to bring out her trump card and remind me that she has given birth to our two boys. Does anyone have any really good responses to this?
After I lay back down again a memory of my ‘old fishing days’ popped into my mind. There not really old, the age of Velaciraptors is old. Remember that brain flatulent I mentioned a minute ago? I think it may have taken a left turn at my cortex and manifested in a different way. BSIGM (before Sandi and I got married), I worked on a number of commercial fishing boats. You know the image, standing on the bow of the ship, much like that image in Titanic, the wind blowing through your hair, and her hair too, dreaming of the future to come. This wasn’t exactly like that. In fact, it wasn’t anything like the movie. There was no woman, the wind wasn’t blowing it was screaming with a cold spray coming over the bow, and the only thing I got to hold was Thomas Edison’s flashlight. It was that old. If I took the batteries out and held them under my armpit to warm them up the light MAY reach the anchor chain. You may be wondering at this point why I am remembering standing on the front deck of the boat. I’ll get to that in a moment. There was no future in the future of commercial fishing, but that didn’t stop me from arguing with my dad that there really is a great future in it. As it turns out, he was right, again.
My second experience with fishing was being hired as a deck hand on a commercial shrimp dragger. Even though I didn't have any idea what I was doing, the first two-hour tow, we pulled in about 5,000 pounds of salad shrimp. Lucky for us, that’s what we were fishing for. I knew that the shrimp sold at the dock for about $0.50 a pound. I did a few mental gymnastics and extrapolated out that since I had just made about $250.00, and the sun wasn’t even up yet. I’m not going to tell you about my first experience with fishing as it would just reinforces that fact that my dad was right, and I’ve already said that “He was right, again” so, sorry, I’m not going to bring it up. Since we were going to be fishing all day I figured if we could make a tow every two hours for 20 hours I should be able to make about $2,500 today. Boy, was I going to enjoy showing my dad my weekly check! I even started dreaming of buying my own boat at the end of the season. So, this is the “Great Secret” in Crescent City, this is how those fishermen buy brand new pickups every year!
Let’s just say that the rest of the season we never did have a tow like this. We had accidentally stumbled on the ‘Mother Lode’ of the shrimp grounds and we could never find it again. It did make me believe in those stories of those miners that trapped around in the desert for about a 1,000 years after finding the Mother Lode once never to find it again. At the end of the week I took home a whopping check of $268.00, and I had to scale down my purchase of the dragger I had set my eyes on. In fact I even had to forget about buying the new 4 X 4 Ford pickup. Shrimp season didn't turn out too well, but crab season was coming up!
Crab season, yeh, crab season. Being the eternal optimist that I am I agreed to work on crab gear without getting paid for two months prior to the season opener on Dec. 1. I had heard just enough stories of teenagers right out of high school making $10,000-15,000 in a one-month crab season to keep me inspired. Like a fool I agreed to work on the crab gear in a nice warm gear shed. Actually, it was only warm when I stood directly in front of the wood stove. Yeh, the very same one I had to keep full. Also, crab pots are heavy to move around and we had to move them around a lot for some reason. Well, as the Dec. 1 opener for the season was fast approaching we were all looking forward to dumping the pots in the water and catch some crabs. Money, money, money. The only thing that keeps a young buck motivated except for women, women, women. As it came closer to the Dec. 1 opener the skipper found more and more reasons to leave helping out to get the gear ready and make about five treks a day down to the harbor. I had a hard time complaining about this because this guy was a real live veteran. Now, that certainly beats the alternative type of veteran. He had actually got shot in the leg, and in fact he had a slight gimp in his stride. He said something to the effect of, “It hurts to stand for too long.” Who am I to complain about a veteran, especially given the fact that he had actually had a Purple Heart? He wasn’t bragging about it, it was just the way it was.
Well, as luck would have it the season didn’t start on Dec. 1. In fact it didn’t start until Dec. 20. It always happens, the DFG says the season starts on Dec. 1 as this is when the crab are usually filled out. Dec. 1 came and went. The price hadn’t been agreed to and the weather was too good. I think that there is an unwritten rule that states that crab season can’t start until the weather gets shitty. It never fails, if the weather is good, they won’t agree to a price. If the weather is dangerously nasty, “Cast off the lines, boys, we’re goin’ crabbin,’ “
The day generally went something like this; The skipper would announce the night before what time we’d go fishing. “Let’s meet at the ‘Chuckwagon’ at 2:30. The Chuckwagon was one of many “greasy spoons’ on the south part of town. In fact, it had gone through the 1964 Tsunami and there was still some driftwood on top of the roof. I think that owner left it on the roof so he could give the place a little class. I would try to correct the skipper by saying, “Don’t you think that’s kinda late? The ocean is going to be a froth by the time we get out there! What kind of lazy ass skipper am I working for? (actually I didn't say that, I just made that up)“ "2:30 in the morning, you goon,” he would bellow back. He always had these pet names for me that he liked to throw around to see which one would fit me better. As it turns out I answered to pretty much all of them, some under my breath and others audibly.
Waiting at the Chuckwagon went something like this. We all sat in booths, three to a seat, I would try to get there a little late so I wouldn’t have to sit in the middle of two guys that hadn’t changed their clothes since last shrimp season. When I did have to sit in the middle I would many times end up falling asleep listening to all the blather and provide a little entertainment for those on either side of me. I know that as I nodded off I probably looked like one of those ‘Bobble Head’ dolls with my head being pinballed from side to side by those on either side. Every once in awhile a table would empty out and the crew would walk as discretely and quietly as possible to the front door, trying to get an early start and not tell the others where they were going. This generally wasn’t very effective as everyone would mutter at the same time, “That dirty so-and-so, he’s probably going to get our there and run our gear too before we get out there. You have to keep in mind, not all of these fishermen are the fine, upstanding pillars of the community as you may think. Within about three minutes the restaurant would be empty, and the waitress would be cleaning the tables off waiting for the loggers to come in and dish out the same kind of stories. I know this because after my illustrious career as a fisherman I tried my hand at logging.
Back then the only way you could tell how rough the water was, or how tall the waves were was to stand on the front deck of the boat and using the aforementioned flashlight shine it toward the crashing sound right in front of you. Now, the boats have so many lights on them you’d think we were being invaded by the entire Russian Navy when the boats come back into port. If the waves came over the bow, they were really big. If all you could see was a bluish-greenish wall of water directly in front of you, it meant that a wave was going to engulf you and you were in imminent danger of being washed out the scuppers. The skipper always had an equitable way to see who was going to stand on the bow with the Thomas Edison flashlight; he would drag out two straws that he kept right next to his navigational charts. Come to think about it, those charts may have belonged to Tom too. The other crewman always drew first, especially on the flat days. He went out there and did his job, not getting wet at all. On the rough days I always drew first, and I ALWAYS did my job. It wasn’t until later that I figured out that maybe, just maybe, they knew something that I wasn’t privy too.
Since I was on the back deck I was the one to carry the pots and stack them neatly on the rear part of the deck whenever we had to move them. During my morning prayers in addition to requesting to come back with all my body parts I would always throw in something about not having to move crab gear. Meanwhile, the ‘block man’ would stand there operating the two ounce lever with his thumb and forefinger that controlled the hydraulics. Me, I’m grunting and groaning carrying these 80 pound pots on a pitching deck and he's already into smoking his second pack of cigarettes, yelling at me, and it isn’t even light yet.
For the first two weeks of the season, USUALLY, you could make about $1,000 a week. Remember, this was in 1978. When you’re experiencing this non-real universe you talk yourself into believing that this can and will go on forever. Rememeber? “non-real,” but it sure makes for good stories with your friends. I told a friend of mine that the first two weeks I had taken home about $3,000. That was all it took. The gluttony of mankind took over what little sanity he had and all he could say was, “Hey, if you hear of any boats that need a back deck man, let me know.” “Have you ever been on the ocean?” I asked him. “No,” he said, one of the few times he told the truth.
Being the good friend I am, I did ask around to see if anyone needed more crew. I didn’t tell the skippers that my friend got seasick taking a bath and had to take a dramamine before turning on the hot water when filling the tub. Boats need more crew for a variety of reasons; seasickness, extra crew on the backdeck, guys are too scared out there and put an application in for washing dishes at the ‘Chuckwagon.’ This was not for any of those reasons, the skipper just hadn’t started fishing yet. I told him to get some motion sickness pills and take them when we all leave the ‘Chuckwagon’ in the morning. The plan was for the two boats to run side by side to the fishing grounds, but as soon as we left the dock I could see that my friend may not have a future career as a fisherman. Before the boat was untied from the slip he was leaning over the rail, gazing longingly at the big boat I was on. To this I yelled over to him, “Let’s go fishing,” while making a motion of popping a pill and asking, “Well, did you?” In the excitement of getting on the boat he had forgot to take his motion sickness pill! I could see him take a package out of his jacket pocket and swallow one, dry. Now at this point the both skippers are backing their boats out of the slips and with a cloud of diesel smoke start motoring out of the harbor. “Maybe he’ll be OK,” I said to myself, not really believing it, but hoping none the less.
As we came out of the protection of the jetty into open water with the boats both in the trough I looked over and didn’t see my friend. “This isn’t good,” I said to myself, already scanning the water through the darkness looking for a person treading water. I looked closer to see my friend was kneeling on the deck with his nose just over the rail. Just about that time I see him convulse and a spray of coffee, pancakes, and bacon becomes food for the crabs. I see him lunge for something in the water and first think that he wants to retrieve a piece of bacon. Only later did I realize he was seeing what I saw last night; last night I saw my vitamins floating in the sink, he saw his motion sickness pill floating off behind the boat. Just about that time the boat pitched to the opposite side and I see him with a arm reaching out, now about 12 feet above the water. He told me later that when the boat pitched back he could still see the pill bobbing in the water. It’s unfortunate that he kept his eye on it though as the boat rolled back the other way, water washing across the deck filled his rain pants and boots with water. Remember, this was BRB (before rubber bands). Now everyone puts rubber bands around their rain pants and boots for these types of occasions. But, that wasn’t the worst part, when the boat pitched to the other side again, remember he is still on his knees leaning over the rail his arm outstretched reaching for his motion sickness pill. The boat rolled over so much that the water came all the way up to the gunwales. Unfortunately, he was in such a state of shock from the 44* running all the way up to the hinterlands under his rain pants, he forgot to retract his arm and the water went up his sleeve and down his chest. Now, mind you we’re still with in a stone’s throw of the inside breakwater.
Later, he told me that the seasickness passed and he was fine the rest of the day. The skipper told me that he climbed into a bunk and didn’t come out until they were tied up at their slip.
Moral of the story: Take your medicine and your sea sickness pills (1) before you get sick, (2) before you leave the restaurant. BTW, he did get that job washing dishes at the “Chuckwagon’ the next day.
Now, Dick will probably say, “Why didn’t Jim just tell us the moral first? He could have saved his a lot of blog space.”
In part, I wrote this to encourage everyone else to tell some stories of your early life. Certainly, it’s got to be more interesting than me telling about when I threw up! Remember, I didn’t go to academy!
Jim
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Year of the Ox Part II
Bucket list: check one. Sandi said that watching the Chinese New Years Parade in San Francisco is on the top 100 things to do in a person’s life. Hmmm………it just so happened that she was going down to watch it with a friend of ours. I’m not exactly sure whose list that she’s referring to, but I went with it. She had taken four 7th grade girls down there two years ago and had a great time. I wonder if now that she’s seen it twice she gets to mark off two of the “Top 100 Must See Things.” Anyway, she asked me on Thursday if I wanted to go with them. As a tax paying American I wanted to do what I could to support the economy without waiting for the president’s Economic Stimulus Package. I had always thought of a finely-apportioned woman as a stimulus package, but what do I know? I had a great weekend planned of going up in the hills and cutting some wood, maybe even painting the living room, but being the person I am, I decided to forego the work and play instead. At this point in the school year a person cannot get in too much playing, and I’m not talking about the kids at school. Besides, we were going to be splitting the cost between three of us. Win, win, win. P.S. The Bucket List is one thing you do not want to mark off as being complete any too soon.
The parade WAS very impressive! Our hotel was about a ½ block off the parade route and lucky for us we got there JUST before they closed the street off. FYI: Do you know that you can’t turn left or right once you get on Geary Street? Even if you drive right by, and yell, “Turn! There it is!” you can’t do it. No turns, period. Lucky for us, after a few figure-eights through the streets of San Francisco that started around San Rafael and came close to San Jose we narrowed down our spiral and ended up in front of our hotel. Before this point I was just a trifle nervous. You see, the last time I stayed in San Francisco it wasn’t by choice. I didn’t have a motel booked like Sandi did this time, but it was an experience that I didn’t want to relive again, or wish on anyone, even my worst enemy.
When we went to Mexico about six years ago, we all left at the same time, but we came back at different times. The guys had to baby our van back to Crescent City from San Francisco with a battery that had already expired, pulling up to stop signs only to be met by the sounds of silence when they tried to start out again. And, this was when they were just leaving the driveway of the motel where we had stored the van. The experience got worse from there, especially since they were still 362 miles short of Crescent City!
When I came back from Puerta Vallarta I thought I had it timed correctly; from getting off the plane at SFO to allowing enough time to get to the SF bus terminal for the remainder of my trip to Crescent City on the Greyhound. I was planning to sleep all the way back home on the bus, and I was hoping that everyone else on the bus was going to share my sentiments. Long story short, I missed the last bus north. The next bus north? 10:00 a.m. the next morning. This presented a slight problem. I hadn’t anticipated spending the night in San Francisco. San Francisco is known for a lot of different things, most of which I didn’t want to participate in, or even be around. Being in San Francisco may be a very special experience for many people, but considering the variety of people and the number of people, it wasn’t something I was looking forward too, especially at night with no plans of where to go. Being the frugal (I like to think of it as fiscally efficient) person I started looking around the bus station for a place to sleep the night. The choices were limited. All the good places around the bus station were taken, and the not-so-good places were taken too. I thought about staying at a youth hostel as we had stayed at hostels on our trip to Alaska a few years ago. Keep in mind, I am basically pretty fiscally efficient. I knew that I was pushing the envelope of the youth part of youth hostel, but I was willing to suck my gut in and give it a try. I started to look on the local advertising boards for a hostel that was close. Lucky for me there was one just down the street. You’ve got to understand, city streets are MUCH longer than regular streets, especially at night if you happen to find yourself walking and not sure where you're going. First, I called the hostel to see if they had any space left. Unlucky for me, they did. Second, I called a cab. No sooner than I got into the cab at the bus station the cabbie said something unintelligible that must have been muffled by his turban to the effect of, “We’re here.” I swear, if I had taken the time to look around I would probably have seen that I was probably right across the street from the bus station, but, I didn’t, I was still trying to get my seat belt buckled. After giving the guy a $20 bill, of which I was expecting about $19.50 back, considering how far we had traveled, he again mumbled something unintelligible and drove off…quickly.
There I was, in front of an unsigned dented door with what looked like deep claw marks, lit only by a single 40 watt light bulb dangling from two wires. Remember, by now it’s 1:00…in the morning…and I don’t really know what direction the bus station is. I was so intent on getting my seat belt buckled I couldn’t identify which direction we had left from the bus station. And, I didn’t have any more $20 bills, only about 9,237 pesos, of which I wasn’t sure the value of. But, I did know that, chances are, a hostel in San Francisco, or a taxi driver that is wearing a turban isn’t really up on their exchange rates either. From the phone conversation with the hostel I knew that it would cost $16 for a place to sleep. They were somewhat evasive on exactly what kind of place to sleep it was though. After rapping on the door for about 5 minutes I noticed a dark figure looming out of the shadows slowly getting larger and closer. I upped the rapping to knocking on the door. As the shadow wobbled into the light and came closer I started pounding on the door, just short of yelling. Suddenly, with my unprecedented visionary skills I noticed there was a doorbell with the light burned out. As a last resort I frantically mashed it multiple times until a sleepy voice crackled from a hole underneath the light, “need something?” “YEH, IN,” I croaked back. “Open the door and come in, it's not locked” the voice calmly answered back. I turned the open door knob and walked in…just before the mangiest cat that I’d ever seen walked by.
This sleepy looking hippy guy took my $16 and pointed to a closed door and said, “There are four bunks in there, take one where there’s not someone in.” Yeh, like I’m going to shove someone out of a bunk bed at 1:30 in the morning! Of course I didn’t want to wake anyone up so I left the door open enough to use the hall light to illuminate an empty top bunk. Bingo! I threw my bag on the top bunk and without getting out of my clothes I jumped up. Too quickly. "Damn," I said to myself, "I forgot to shut the door." I jumped back off the bunk just as the guy on the bottom bunk rolled over, his arm brushing down my leg and grunted something I didn't even want to try to understand. I'm not saying it was planned on his part and he was just feeling friendly, I'm just that I wasn't really prepared for his hospitality and it didn't really make me feel very comfortable. I didn't acknowledge him and quickly shut the door and did the Superman standing vertical broad jump straight up to the top bunk covering 5 vertical feet and 3 horizontal feet in a single bound. Only then did I realize how dark it was. I tried really hard to calm myself, trying to still my heart and quell my nerves. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it may wake up my all too-neighborly neighbor, him thinking that I was somehow ecouraging him with my beating heart. I tried to stretch out and make myself comfortable until I sensed that there wasn't a mattress on the top bunk, just a piece of plywood. My mind kept racing back to the bus station, replaying the not-so-good places looking suddenly looking much better and wondering how long it would take me to find my way back. I jockeyed my bag to the head of the bed wondering to myself, exactly which would be the worse place of the two evils, to put my head where people have put their feet, or put my head where other people have put their head. I propped my head on my bag and swore quietly to myself that when and if I ever got home I would take the hottest shower I could stand with the best flea soap money could buy.
I wish I could tell you I it was quiet and fell asleep and rested peacefully the rest of the night. It wasn't, and I didn't. Just as my heart rate dropped to about 120 bpm the door opened and in walked (stumbled) a guy talking to himself, stinking to high heaven. I pretended to be asleep, all the while keeping not one eye slightly open, but both eyes wide open. I was snoring with both eyes open, not sleeping, just snoring. I watched the guy take 3 quart bottles of Colt .45 Malt Liquor out of the paper bag he carried in and place them neatly beside the lower bunk against the far wall. He leaned on one elbow, unscrewed the cap, and chugged the entire bottle before burping and laying down on the jacket that he had put down as a pillow. Within about 5 minutes of heavy breathing he jumped up and ran across the hall to the bathroom leaving the door open so everyone could hear him relieving himself. Before laying back down he chugged the second bottle. The third bottle he put under his jacket and put his head on it. Within about 2 seconds he was joining the other snorers in the room in an impromptu chorus of loud and out-of-tune snoring. Myself, I was pretty sure even if I could go to sleep I didn't dare let myself go to sleep. I lay awake listening to the snoring, flatulating, and grunting until about 3:00. When I was pretty sure everyone was in their own world I quickly jumped down, quietly opened the door (as if that really mattered), and walked out of the hostel. I waved a cab down and asked him which way to the bus station. He pointed to the where a Greyhound was turning in and said, "Right there." I walked to a coffee shop, bought a cup of coffee, a donut, and a newspaper and pretended like I do this kind of thing every morning.
We also got to see, John Lee Hooker, Jr., the son of, you guessed it, John Lee Hooker, Sr., a great Blues singer.
The highlight of the trip was being able to have breakfast with Glenda. She is closing in on her Bachelors degree this coming May. You’ll be glad to know that she takes her studying very seriously. She even takes her books to breakfast. No wasted time with our sister!
On the way back from San Francisco we were going through Orick and we noticed that they (?) were holding tryouts for the Dallas Cowgirls. I’m sure all the hopeful future Cowgirls will be bringing their best stimulus package with them. Don’t ask me why they’ve chosen to hold tryouts there, but they do get some pretty big names there. In the past we’ve seen such names as ZZ Top, The Beatles, and even the Rolling Stones on the marquee board, so it really wasn’t much of a surprise to see the ad for the Dallas Cowgirls’ tryouts. The only problem is, where everyone stays. The only motel in town, ‘Myrtle’s pay-by-the-hour Motel and Trailer Park’ is hard to find.
Anyway, it was a great quick trip and it’s good to be back home.
Jim
The parade WAS very impressive! Our hotel was about a ½ block off the parade route and lucky for us we got there JUST before they closed the street off. FYI: Do you know that you can’t turn left or right once you get on Geary Street? Even if you drive right by, and yell, “Turn! There it is!” you can’t do it. No turns, period. Lucky for us, after a few figure-eights through the streets of San Francisco that started around San Rafael and came close to San Jose we narrowed down our spiral and ended up in front of our hotel. Before this point I was just a trifle nervous. You see, the last time I stayed in San Francisco it wasn’t by choice. I didn’t have a motel booked like Sandi did this time, but it was an experience that I didn’t want to relive again, or wish on anyone, even my worst enemy.
When we went to Mexico about six years ago, we all left at the same time, but we came back at different times. The guys had to baby our van back to Crescent City from San Francisco with a battery that had already expired, pulling up to stop signs only to be met by the sounds of silence when they tried to start out again. And, this was when they were just leaving the driveway of the motel where we had stored the van. The experience got worse from there, especially since they were still 362 miles short of Crescent City!
When I came back from Puerta Vallarta I thought I had it timed correctly; from getting off the plane at SFO to allowing enough time to get to the SF bus terminal for the remainder of my trip to Crescent City on the Greyhound. I was planning to sleep all the way back home on the bus, and I was hoping that everyone else on the bus was going to share my sentiments. Long story short, I missed the last bus north. The next bus north? 10:00 a.m. the next morning. This presented a slight problem. I hadn’t anticipated spending the night in San Francisco. San Francisco is known for a lot of different things, most of which I didn’t want to participate in, or even be around. Being in San Francisco may be a very special experience for many people, but considering the variety of people and the number of people, it wasn’t something I was looking forward too, especially at night with no plans of where to go. Being the frugal (I like to think of it as fiscally efficient) person I started looking around the bus station for a place to sleep the night. The choices were limited. All the good places around the bus station were taken, and the not-so-good places were taken too. I thought about staying at a youth hostel as we had stayed at hostels on our trip to Alaska a few years ago. Keep in mind, I am basically pretty fiscally efficient. I knew that I was pushing the envelope of the youth part of youth hostel, but I was willing to suck my gut in and give it a try. I started to look on the local advertising boards for a hostel that was close. Lucky for me there was one just down the street. You’ve got to understand, city streets are MUCH longer than regular streets, especially at night if you happen to find yourself walking and not sure where you're going. First, I called the hostel to see if they had any space left. Unlucky for me, they did. Second, I called a cab. No sooner than I got into the cab at the bus station the cabbie said something unintelligible that must have been muffled by his turban to the effect of, “We’re here.” I swear, if I had taken the time to look around I would probably have seen that I was probably right across the street from the bus station, but, I didn’t, I was still trying to get my seat belt buckled. After giving the guy a $20 bill, of which I was expecting about $19.50 back, considering how far we had traveled, he again mumbled something unintelligible and drove off…quickly.
There I was, in front of an unsigned dented door with what looked like deep claw marks, lit only by a single 40 watt light bulb dangling from two wires. Remember, by now it’s 1:00…in the morning…and I don’t really know what direction the bus station is. I was so intent on getting my seat belt buckled I couldn’t identify which direction we had left from the bus station. And, I didn’t have any more $20 bills, only about 9,237 pesos, of which I wasn’t sure the value of. But, I did know that, chances are, a hostel in San Francisco, or a taxi driver that is wearing a turban isn’t really up on their exchange rates either. From the phone conversation with the hostel I knew that it would cost $16 for a place to sleep. They were somewhat evasive on exactly what kind of place to sleep it was though. After rapping on the door for about 5 minutes I noticed a dark figure looming out of the shadows slowly getting larger and closer. I upped the rapping to knocking on the door. As the shadow wobbled into the light and came closer I started pounding on the door, just short of yelling. Suddenly, with my unprecedented visionary skills I noticed there was a doorbell with the light burned out. As a last resort I frantically mashed it multiple times until a sleepy voice crackled from a hole underneath the light, “need something?” “YEH, IN,” I croaked back. “Open the door and come in, it's not locked” the voice calmly answered back. I turned the open door knob and walked in…just before the mangiest cat that I’d ever seen walked by.
This sleepy looking hippy guy took my $16 and pointed to a closed door and said, “There are four bunks in there, take one where there’s not someone in.” Yeh, like I’m going to shove someone out of a bunk bed at 1:30 in the morning! Of course I didn’t want to wake anyone up so I left the door open enough to use the hall light to illuminate an empty top bunk. Bingo! I threw my bag on the top bunk and without getting out of my clothes I jumped up. Too quickly. "Damn," I said to myself, "I forgot to shut the door." I jumped back off the bunk just as the guy on the bottom bunk rolled over, his arm brushing down my leg and grunted something I didn't even want to try to understand. I'm not saying it was planned on his part and he was just feeling friendly, I'm just that I wasn't really prepared for his hospitality and it didn't really make me feel very comfortable. I didn't acknowledge him and quickly shut the door and did the Superman standing vertical broad jump straight up to the top bunk covering 5 vertical feet and 3 horizontal feet in a single bound. Only then did I realize how dark it was. I tried really hard to calm myself, trying to still my heart and quell my nerves. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it may wake up my all too-neighborly neighbor, him thinking that I was somehow ecouraging him with my beating heart. I tried to stretch out and make myself comfortable until I sensed that there wasn't a mattress on the top bunk, just a piece of plywood. My mind kept racing back to the bus station, replaying the not-so-good places looking suddenly looking much better and wondering how long it would take me to find my way back. I jockeyed my bag to the head of the bed wondering to myself, exactly which would be the worse place of the two evils, to put my head where people have put their feet, or put my head where other people have put their head. I propped my head on my bag and swore quietly to myself that when and if I ever got home I would take the hottest shower I could stand with the best flea soap money could buy.
I wish I could tell you I it was quiet and fell asleep and rested peacefully the rest of the night. It wasn't, and I didn't. Just as my heart rate dropped to about 120 bpm the door opened and in walked (stumbled) a guy talking to himself, stinking to high heaven. I pretended to be asleep, all the while keeping not one eye slightly open, but both eyes wide open. I was snoring with both eyes open, not sleeping, just snoring. I watched the guy take 3 quart bottles of Colt .45 Malt Liquor out of the paper bag he carried in and place them neatly beside the lower bunk against the far wall. He leaned on one elbow, unscrewed the cap, and chugged the entire bottle before burping and laying down on the jacket that he had put down as a pillow. Within about 5 minutes of heavy breathing he jumped up and ran across the hall to the bathroom leaving the door open so everyone could hear him relieving himself. Before laying back down he chugged the second bottle. The third bottle he put under his jacket and put his head on it. Within about 2 seconds he was joining the other snorers in the room in an impromptu chorus of loud and out-of-tune snoring. Myself, I was pretty sure even if I could go to sleep I didn't dare let myself go to sleep. I lay awake listening to the snoring, flatulating, and grunting until about 3:00. When I was pretty sure everyone was in their own world I quickly jumped down, quietly opened the door (as if that really mattered), and walked out of the hostel. I waved a cab down and asked him which way to the bus station. He pointed to the where a Greyhound was turning in and said, "Right there." I walked to a coffee shop, bought a cup of coffee, a donut, and a newspaper and pretended like I do this kind of thing every morning.
We also got to see, John Lee Hooker, Jr., the son of, you guessed it, John Lee Hooker, Sr., a great Blues singer.
The highlight of the trip was being able to have breakfast with Glenda. She is closing in on her Bachelors degree this coming May. You’ll be glad to know that she takes her studying very seriously. She even takes her books to breakfast. No wasted time with our sister!
On the way back from San Francisco we were going through Orick and we noticed that they (?) were holding tryouts for the Dallas Cowgirls. I’m sure all the hopeful future Cowgirls will be bringing their best stimulus package with them. Don’t ask me why they’ve chosen to hold tryouts there, but they do get some pretty big names there. In the past we’ve seen such names as ZZ Top, The Beatles, and even the Rolling Stones on the marquee board, so it really wasn’t much of a surprise to see the ad for the Dallas Cowgirls’ tryouts. The only problem is, where everyone stays. The only motel in town, ‘Myrtle’s pay-by-the-hour Motel and Trailer Park’ is hard to find.
Anyway, it was a great quick trip and it’s good to be back home.
Jim
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Friday, January 02, 2009
Sunday, December 21, 2008
I did something today that I've never done before and never thought I'd ever do. I spent 2 hours in a grocery store and I wasn't even shopping! I've not spent 2 hours in a grocery store if I added up the last five years I've gone shopping. Did you know that there are about 52 different kinds of crackers that have garlic in them? And, there are 37 different varities of catsup? I did see a bunch of cookies I'd like to sample though.
Andrew, Rachael, and I went to see one of their favorite characters on one of their favorite TV shows, Deadliest Catch. The skipper from one of the boats was there to introduce a line of coffee he was promoting. Name of the coffee? Deadliest Catch of course. I can just see them sitting in the galley of the boat talking about what kind of product they want to endorse. Deadliest Catch cologne or Deadliest Catch coffee. The coffee was probably the correct choice. Deadliest Catch Hangbait cologne would probably have a limited audience. Anyway, I took some pics of Rachael and Andrew getting coffee bags signed.
Andrew, Rachael, and I went to see one of their favorite characters on one of their favorite TV shows, Deadliest Catch. The skipper from one of the boats was there to introduce a line of coffee he was promoting. Name of the coffee? Deadliest Catch of course. I can just see them sitting in the galley of the boat talking about what kind of product they want to endorse. Deadliest Catch cologne or Deadliest Catch coffee. The coffee was probably the correct choice. Deadliest Catch Hangbait cologne would probably have a limited audience. Anyway, I took some pics of Rachael and Andrew getting coffee bags signed.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Burger mojo.
I just heard about a new way to up a guys chick mojo. Burger King is coming out with a great new product. You don't eat it though, you spray it! Yes, a beef-scented body spray. The company bills it as a “scent of seduction with a hint of flame-broiled meat.” It only costs $3.99. Heck, that’s cheaper than a whopper meal.
Actually, it’s a pretty hot idea. Just imagine, being surrounded by hungry AND beautiful women and they don’t realize why they’re attracted to you! Of course thinking about it I guess that maybe not all women like Burger King. And, it could also have its downside if you’re in the proximity of meat-eating animals. Maybe it's not such a great idea.
Actually, it’s a pretty hot idea. Just imagine, being surrounded by hungry AND beautiful women and they don’t realize why they’re attracted to you! Of course thinking about it I guess that maybe not all women like Burger King. And, it could also have its downside if you’re in the proximity of meat-eating animals. Maybe it's not such a great idea.
Monday, December 15, 2008
'Well you see, it's like this . . . A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo.
And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first .
This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health
of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members.
In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells.
Now, as we know, excessive intake of alcohol kills brain cells.
But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first.
In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells,
making the brain a faster and more efficient machine.
And that, is why you always feel smarter after a few beers.'
And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first .
This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health
of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members.
In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells.
Now, as we know, excessive intake of alcohol kills brain cells.
But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first.
In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells,
making the brain a faster and more efficient machine.
And that, is why you always feel smarter after a few beers.'
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
A letter to Mr. Fab 11-20-08
In view of the recent Leadership Team Meeting Minutes that we received, Mr. Fabricius mentioned that “Because of the many grants awarded to us recently, Professional Development is a requirement in each of them that we must explore.”
Does anyone else see a correlation between the Chinese Acrobats and Professional Development? Let me connect the dots. If you’ve been following the news, California budget money is to be reduced in the future. What does that mean to us? There will be fewer assemblies, more time constraints, and yet more Professional Development. That’s right, Professional Development under the guise of “Assemblies.” After all, why pay someone to change the lights in the MPR if a couple of teachers can be trained to stand on a ladder on one another’s shoulders to accomplish the same thing?
The way I’m seeing this, the Chinese Acrobats demonstration was, in a sense, Professional Development for us. I hope all were paying attention. With the glee and anticipation that Mr. Fab did his part, it just shows that as he leads, we are expected to follow. I sense that this was a way of showing us what we are to be doing for a future assembly. He has the basketball spinning routine down. He’ll probably be asking for someone to learn to juggle pans while sitting on a rather tall unicycle. Also, there has to be someone for that dramatic beginning; doing running flips off a hard gym floor. Don’t forget the table spinning demonstration; you don’t want to make too many mistakes with that one! Sorry, I have to beg off on any of these.
Before everyone else jumps on what they are willing to do, let me volunteer for a job.
I’ll turn the music system on and off
Here we grow again,
Jim
Does anyone else see a correlation between the Chinese Acrobats and Professional Development? Let me connect the dots. If you’ve been following the news, California budget money is to be reduced in the future. What does that mean to us? There will be fewer assemblies, more time constraints, and yet more Professional Development. That’s right, Professional Development under the guise of “Assemblies.” After all, why pay someone to change the lights in the MPR if a couple of teachers can be trained to stand on a ladder on one another’s shoulders to accomplish the same thing?
The way I’m seeing this, the Chinese Acrobats demonstration was, in a sense, Professional Development for us. I hope all were paying attention. With the glee and anticipation that Mr. Fab did his part, it just shows that as he leads, we are expected to follow. I sense that this was a way of showing us what we are to be doing for a future assembly. He has the basketball spinning routine down. He’ll probably be asking for someone to learn to juggle pans while sitting on a rather tall unicycle. Also, there has to be someone for that dramatic beginning; doing running flips off a hard gym floor. Don’t forget the table spinning demonstration; you don’t want to make too many mistakes with that one! Sorry, I have to beg off on any of these.
Before everyone else jumps on what they are willing to do, let me volunteer for a job.
I’ll turn the music system on and off
Here we grow again,
Jim
Monday, November 10, 2008
An epiphany!
If a person can go on medical disability after being diagnosed with Carpel Tunnel Syndrome does that mean if a person is diagnosed for Carpel Tunnel Syndrome from fishing too much they have to go to work?
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
A great moment in history!!!!
I just witnessed a great moment in American history. It is a moment comparable to man first landing on the moon. Barack Obama, an African-American, has been elected to be the 44th President of the United States. This to me is one of the greatest times in which to be living. Hopefully, it will be a transcendent moment in our country’s history. I am elated at the possibilities and hopeful for the future. Looking back to last night, I now wish that I could have been in Chicago to hear his acceptance speech. It is the first time I’ve ever voted Democrat, but I’m proudest for voting this time more than any other time I’ve ever voted.
Hopefully, those that didn’t vote for him will still be willing to work with him and not be held back by a person of color leading our country. After all, we are all immigrants to this great country, it’s just that some came before others.
Hopefully, those that didn’t vote for him will still be willing to work with him and not be held back by a person of color leading our country. After all, we are all immigrants to this great country, it’s just that some came before others.
Friday, October 31, 2008
I didn't think anyone would notice.......
...........boy, was I wrong.
Copy and paste the link below.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
San Jose Science Conference
I wasn’t REALLY lost, I was just disoriented for an inordinate amount of time. Lucky for me there was food nearby. I was going to eat at a place with the name of ‘Mary Ann’s Diner’ but when I looked in I didn’t see anyone that looked like a Mary Ann, so I went to a real Chinese diner.
For some reason I get disoriented whenever I’m in a big city. I should know enough to take my GPS. Welcome to my first evening in San Jose to attend a science conference.
The plane from Crescent City took off 2 hours 40 minutes late due to the fog in Crescent City. The flight was pretty uneventful. That’s a good thing. It seems like it’s always an adventure when I go by myself, but I feel I did pretty good. I find that reading signs and asking directions are pretty helpful instead of bulling my way through.
I couldn’t bring myself to spend $100 for a cab to San Jose, or even $60 for a shuttle so I spent $5.75 to ride the train. It was very relaxing. The only stress I felt was almost falling asleep because it was so quiet.
For some reason I get disoriented whenever I’m in a big city. I should know enough to take my GPS. Welcome to my first evening in San Jose to attend a science conference.
The plane from Crescent City took off 2 hours 40 minutes late due to the fog in Crescent City. The flight was pretty uneventful. That’s a good thing. It seems like it’s always an adventure when I go by myself, but I feel I did pretty good. I find that reading signs and asking directions are pretty helpful instead of bulling my way through.
I couldn’t bring myself to spend $100 for a cab to San Jose, or even $60 for a shuttle so I spent $5.75 to ride the train. It was very relaxing. The only stress I felt was almost falling asleep because it was so quiet.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
A trip to Klamath River
“Let’s go make more memories.” So generally starts the planning for a camping/hunting/fishing trip. Andrew and I just got back from 2-1/2 days over on the Klamath River. I wish all of the family had been able to go, but I do admit, it was kind of rough. Randy, Andrew, and I went over there last fall about this time and had a great time. This year when we left it was raining here in Crescent City, and up in the hills east of town it was raining and blowing. We went up Patrick’s Creek looking for deer. We did quite a bit of walking in the rain and wind, but saw no deer. All we saw were hunters, lots of them. So, we cut over on the Toll Road to O'Brien. No, there is no longer a toll road, but at one time about 100 years ago it was a private road and thus a toll could be exacted, or rather extracted by the owners. The fall colors were stellar and just beginning to come on. We were no more than 2 miles out of Del Norte County and we saw our first deer, the first of many more by the end of the trip.
We arrived at Ladd Road about 2:00 in the afternoon. This is the road near Seiad Valley where mom and dad had a mining claim on, and Chuck and I spent many happy summers as children. Walker Gulch is the name of the creek where we never did remove a speck of gold, but we did take many happy memories. Looking back, camping trips that I’ve been on with Randy and Andrew have nothing on the ‘rough factor’ we spent with mom camping on the river. We would take daily 6 mile walks to go to the store and check the mail and mom would reward us by buying Chuck and I an ice cream bar. Long after Chuck and I stopped going mom would still visit the claim and I’m sure make those same daily walks.
This time we didn’t stop at Walker Gulch, but drove on by. I did glance over to check and make sure that our name was still visibly carved in a tree marking the claim as forever ours even though it has since gone back into the ownership of the U.S. Forest Service. We slowed at the bend in the river and were disappointed to see another pickup parked there. I know that both Andrew and I had planned to camp there, but wouldn’t if another car was there. Things happen for a reason, and sometimes it’s “not worth pushing water uphill.” We continued up the dirt road past a point that I had ever been to before. Eventually, the road got rougher and narrower and dropped down to the 20 acre gravel bar about 4 miles upriver from where we had planned to camp. I have seen this gravel bar ever since I first started going over there with mom and Chuck, but had never been to it before. I remember seeing parts of huge gold mining equipment there. Now, we were there standing on the remnants of the past, looking at this, our new favorite place to come in the future. The riffle sweeping by the bank looked every bit as good as any of our other favorite places just downstream.
By Saturday night we had seen about 30 deer including two spikes, but no legal bucks, During the day we had to drive back into the thriving metropolis of Seiad Valley (population 27) for me to call in sub plans. On the way in we saw an older lady with white hair walking briskly along Ladd Road toward Seiad, I remarked to Andrew how much she reminded me of my mom. As we passed I noticed she had a walking stick and was wearing dark glasses, looking very much like what my mom looked like. We waved as we passed and she pleasantly smiled back at us. The thoughts and memories of my mom became even more special and I think that she would be happy for Sandi and I, as I was showing our kids a little bit of the joy she shared with us. Not much has changed, if anything there is a bit less traffic although there are a few more houses. Dreams are still being dreamed and life is still being lived.
We had a nocturnal visitor about 4:00 in the morning. We were awoken up by the sound of something sliding down the tent with a coarse dragging sound. I heard it very well as my head was about 10” from the side of the tent. We both got up and looked around the tent, but our visitor was long gone. The only evidence was two clumps of sand still on the side of the tent and the prints of a large bear with long claws imprinted next to the tent.
About this time I’d like to add something like this....On our return trip back to our campsite we again came up to the lady walking to Seiad. She had been walking pretty fast, and now seeing her better, as we drove down the road toward her I realized that she really did look my mom would have looked walking down one of her favorite roads. I was just about ready to tell Andrew to stop and say hello to the lady, but when as we came to within about 20 feet of her she disappeared into a wisp of vapor and the walking stick she was using clattered to the ground with a puff of dust left as a reminder of what I had just seen. Slowly, we drove by not saying a word to each other, each wondering if we had really seen what we had just witnessed…...but it didn’t actually happen, just a recollection of the past.
We arrived at Ladd Road about 2:00 in the afternoon. This is the road near Seiad Valley where mom and dad had a mining claim on, and Chuck and I spent many happy summers as children. Walker Gulch is the name of the creek where we never did remove a speck of gold, but we did take many happy memories. Looking back, camping trips that I’ve been on with Randy and Andrew have nothing on the ‘rough factor’ we spent with mom camping on the river. We would take daily 6 mile walks to go to the store and check the mail and mom would reward us by buying Chuck and I an ice cream bar. Long after Chuck and I stopped going mom would still visit the claim and I’m sure make those same daily walks.
This time we didn’t stop at Walker Gulch, but drove on by. I did glance over to check and make sure that our name was still visibly carved in a tree marking the claim as forever ours even though it has since gone back into the ownership of the U.S. Forest Service. We slowed at the bend in the river and were disappointed to see another pickup parked there. I know that both Andrew and I had planned to camp there, but wouldn’t if another car was there. Things happen for a reason, and sometimes it’s “not worth pushing water uphill.” We continued up the dirt road past a point that I had ever been to before. Eventually, the road got rougher and narrower and dropped down to the 20 acre gravel bar about 4 miles upriver from where we had planned to camp. I have seen this gravel bar ever since I first started going over there with mom and Chuck, but had never been to it before. I remember seeing parts of huge gold mining equipment there. Now, we were there standing on the remnants of the past, looking at this, our new favorite place to come in the future. The riffle sweeping by the bank looked every bit as good as any of our other favorite places just downstream.
By Saturday night we had seen about 30 deer including two spikes, but no legal bucks, During the day we had to drive back into the thriving metropolis of Seiad Valley (population 27) for me to call in sub plans. On the way in we saw an older lady with white hair walking briskly along Ladd Road toward Seiad, I remarked to Andrew how much she reminded me of my mom. As we passed I noticed she had a walking stick and was wearing dark glasses, looking very much like what my mom looked like. We waved as we passed and she pleasantly smiled back at us. The thoughts and memories of my mom became even more special and I think that she would be happy for Sandi and I, as I was showing our kids a little bit of the joy she shared with us. Not much has changed, if anything there is a bit less traffic although there are a few more houses. Dreams are still being dreamed and life is still being lived.
We had a nocturnal visitor about 4:00 in the morning. We were awoken up by the sound of something sliding down the tent with a coarse dragging sound. I heard it very well as my head was about 10” from the side of the tent. We both got up and looked around the tent, but our visitor was long gone. The only evidence was two clumps of sand still on the side of the tent and the prints of a large bear with long claws imprinted next to the tent.
About this time I’d like to add something like this....On our return trip back to our campsite we again came up to the lady walking to Seiad. She had been walking pretty fast, and now seeing her better, as we drove down the road toward her I realized that she really did look my mom would have looked walking down one of her favorite roads. I was just about ready to tell Andrew to stop and say hello to the lady, but when as we came to within about 20 feet of her she disappeared into a wisp of vapor and the walking stick she was using clattered to the ground with a puff of dust left as a reminder of what I had just seen. Slowly, we drove by not saying a word to each other, each wondering if we had really seen what we had just witnessed…...but it didn’t actually happen, just a recollection of the past.
Monday, October 06, 2008
The fall
Last weekend was the first weekend of a fall time tradition, or maybe, as in years past, a fall time necessity. Granted, now it is not so much a necessity, but rather something that signals a primordial brain response that says, now is the time to start preparing for winter. It is the time to provide sustenance for the family, to take the club down from its cradle above the door and go out and provide meat for the family for the winter. It is time to catch the deer being active prior to their reduced wintertime routine. Last weekend was the first weekend of deer hunting season.
I believe in the sanctity of life and thus revere it and recognize it is a gift from our Maker. That being said, the idea of idea of hunting and killing a deer is almost an oxymoron to my previous belief. Then, why in the name of Safeway, Rays, and shrink-wrapped meat do we need to go out hunting? Just that, in the age of convenience, Saran Wrap, and processing there is a certain thing lost. That thing is the idea of the fact that someone had to kill and process that shrink-wrapped steak that we choose from the meat counter in the store; separation of responsibility to the taking of an animal’s life.
I feel by me taking part in the process, it forces me to recognize the fact that even though I may buy meat at the store an animal had to die to provide my sustenance. By me going out fishing or hunting I am putting myself closer to the food chain and to recognize that I am part of it. Dust to dust, that’s what I believe. I cannot separate myself from the fact that I am an integral part of a larger process, and as in the water that I drink, some organic based organism has taken in, processed, and expelled that water before. Maybe it was a dinosaur, or maybe another human being, but it has been cycled through nature before. We do live in a closed system.
Hunting allows me to appreciate nature as its elemental level, a level at which all too often I am too far removed. I am part of the cycle and part of the process of life. The fall is a time of beauty, a time of regeneration where nature is throwing off seasonal appearances and showing off a new look. Hunting season is a time where nature is pushing out its final rush of chlorophyll on those warm fall days and with its final fading gasp it is showing the hidden underlying colors it has for so long cloaked under the green of the leaves. Just after the last chlorophyll rises to the leaves the leaves release their grip on life and fall to the ground to provide a layer of insulation and nutrients to the forest floor for the next organism to use.
And thus starts another life
I believe in the sanctity of life and thus revere it and recognize it is a gift from our Maker. That being said, the idea of idea of hunting and killing a deer is almost an oxymoron to my previous belief. Then, why in the name of Safeway, Rays, and shrink-wrapped meat do we need to go out hunting? Just that, in the age of convenience, Saran Wrap, and processing there is a certain thing lost. That thing is the idea of the fact that someone had to kill and process that shrink-wrapped steak that we choose from the meat counter in the store; separation of responsibility to the taking of an animal’s life.
I feel by me taking part in the process, it forces me to recognize the fact that even though I may buy meat at the store an animal had to die to provide my sustenance. By me going out fishing or hunting I am putting myself closer to the food chain and to recognize that I am part of it. Dust to dust, that’s what I believe. I cannot separate myself from the fact that I am an integral part of a larger process, and as in the water that I drink, some organic based organism has taken in, processed, and expelled that water before. Maybe it was a dinosaur, or maybe another human being, but it has been cycled through nature before. We do live in a closed system.
Hunting allows me to appreciate nature as its elemental level, a level at which all too often I am too far removed. I am part of the cycle and part of the process of life. The fall is a time of beauty, a time of regeneration where nature is throwing off seasonal appearances and showing off a new look. Hunting season is a time where nature is pushing out its final rush of chlorophyll on those warm fall days and with its final fading gasp it is showing the hidden underlying colors it has for so long cloaked under the green of the leaves. Just after the last chlorophyll rises to the leaves the leaves release their grip on life and fall to the ground to provide a layer of insulation and nutrients to the forest floor for the next organism to use.
And thus starts another life
Friday, September 26, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Good news
In spite of all the health issues that our family is facing and Hurricane Ike moving the coastal parts of Texas inland, there is still good news. I've heard that things really are bigger in Texas, and now, I must say, they're right.
We've been working on our Mason Court house evening and weekends for the last month, and we're getting to the point where we can see daylight at the end of the tunnel. We've kept it as a rental since we moved to our home on Gale Way. I've not regretted for a moment the move to our home here, but I've dreaded the time I knew it would take to fix up the Mason Court house. It's been a rental for about 8 years and was long overdue for a major 'fixup.' The time has arrived. We've painted, repaired, caulked, replaced, revitalized, and fixed. New doors, windows, trim boards, stove, bathroom cabinet, laminate (kitchen and bathroom), and carpet.
I'm ready to be done. I've done remodel stuff I've not done before. I feel as if I've earned my Junior Carpenter Badge, Junior Laminater Badge, Junior Electrician Badge, and my Journeyman Painting Badge.
Randy and Claudia are going to be buying it from us, and I must say, I'm glad. The baby is due in January and you can call me 'grandpa' then. The cycle of life continues. This is not to say I don't enjoy this kind of work, I just wish that it would have happened at the beginning of summer, you probably wouldn't have seen so many pictures of my feet!
Jim
We've been working on our Mason Court house evening and weekends for the last month, and we're getting to the point where we can see daylight at the end of the tunnel. We've kept it as a rental since we moved to our home on Gale Way. I've not regretted for a moment the move to our home here, but I've dreaded the time I knew it would take to fix up the Mason Court house. It's been a rental for about 8 years and was long overdue for a major 'fixup.' The time has arrived. We've painted, repaired, caulked, replaced, revitalized, and fixed. New doors, windows, trim boards, stove, bathroom cabinet, laminate (kitchen and bathroom), and carpet.
I'm ready to be done. I've done remodel stuff I've not done before. I feel as if I've earned my Junior Carpenter Badge, Junior Laminater Badge, Junior Electrician Badge, and my Journeyman Painting Badge.
Randy and Claudia are going to be buying it from us, and I must say, I'm glad. The baby is due in January and you can call me 'grandpa' then. The cycle of life continues. This is not to say I don't enjoy this kind of work, I just wish that it would have happened at the beginning of summer, you probably wouldn't have seen so many pictures of my feet!
Jim
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Note to self: Choosing motels.
Next time we stay at a motel that we're unfamiliar with this is the procedure I'll follow.
Even if it's 11:00 p.m. at night, drive around the block instead of pulling in upon first seeing it. Maybe, drive around the block twice if it's in the experienced part of town.
Don't take it for granted that the motel is the same as it was when you stayed there 25 years ago. Things change.
Be aware if there are ANY tattoo parlors in the close proximity.
Check to see if there are people leaning off the 2nd story balconies smoking, before going to the office.
Ask to look at the room before signing on the dotted line. If there are ANY signs that there is something wrong about the room, chances are there probably are.
And last, as you're driving around the block the 2nd time, read all the signs and be on the lookout for any that say anything about monthly rates.
Even if it's 11:00 p.m. at night, drive around the block instead of pulling in upon first seeing it. Maybe, drive around the block twice if it's in the experienced part of town.
Don't take it for granted that the motel is the same as it was when you stayed there 25 years ago. Things change.
Be aware if there are ANY tattoo parlors in the close proximity.
Check to see if there are people leaning off the 2nd story balconies smoking, before going to the office.
Ask to look at the room before signing on the dotted line. If there are ANY signs that there is something wrong about the room, chances are there probably are.
And last, as you're driving around the block the 2nd time, read all the signs and be on the lookout for any that say anything about monthly rates.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Trip back from Tahoe
I know that you like barbeque so I have to share this story with you. On our recent ‘working’ vacation trip our relatives wanted to share one of their favorites haunts with us except they were a little fuzzy on some of the details. They thought that the name was Mongolian Barbeque Buffet and that it was about $12.95 a plate and that the food was REALLY good.
Well, I do like barbeque and I don’t discriminate with any country’s culture or food. I really didn’t know too much about the Mongolian food fare, but I was willing to try. I really expected a lot of sheep and goat on the menu.
First, I didn’t see anyone that looked like they came from Mongolia. Second, the cost was actually $22.95. Third, I didn’t see any food that I couldn’t buy at Safeway. What really surprised me was all the seafood that was used in the buffet. I don’t know a whole lot of Mongolia but I didn’t realize that they used too much seafood in their diet since Mongolia doesn’t have a seaport. And there wasn’t any barbequed sheep or goat on the menu.
I kid you not, but I saw this road cleanup sign alongside the road as we were coming home from our trip, ‘Improved Order of Red Men. It made me wonder if there was an ‘Unimproved Order of Red Men’ doing community service too. If not, I think that they should consider it.
On our way back we had to go through Redding and it was 117* at 4:00 in the afternoon. That’s the hottest temperature that I’ve ever experienced. In fact, it was so hot I saw a car with Arizona plates that was being carried by a car carrier.
Road signs are interesting too. One we saw was Igo, 2 miles, Ono, 4 miles. They didn’t say what was at 3 miles, but I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as whatever was in Ono!
Have you ever noticed those deer crossing signs along the road. They always show the same deer; a 4 point buck starting to jump. I always want to look in the opposite lane and see if they have a sign of the same deer landing. What I thought was really weird was the deer crossing sign we saw in Gazelle. You’d think that there wouldn’t even be any deer in town called Gazelle!
Well, I do like barbeque and I don’t discriminate with any country’s culture or food. I really didn’t know too much about the Mongolian food fare, but I was willing to try. I really expected a lot of sheep and goat on the menu.
First, I didn’t see anyone that looked like they came from Mongolia. Second, the cost was actually $22.95. Third, I didn’t see any food that I couldn’t buy at Safeway. What really surprised me was all the seafood that was used in the buffet. I don’t know a whole lot of Mongolia but I didn’t realize that they used too much seafood in their diet since Mongolia doesn’t have a seaport. And there wasn’t any barbequed sheep or goat on the menu.
I kid you not, but I saw this road cleanup sign alongside the road as we were coming home from our trip, ‘Improved Order of Red Men. It made me wonder if there was an ‘Unimproved Order of Red Men’ doing community service too. If not, I think that they should consider it.
On our way back we had to go through Redding and it was 117* at 4:00 in the afternoon. That’s the hottest temperature that I’ve ever experienced. In fact, it was so hot I saw a car with Arizona plates that was being carried by a car carrier.
Road signs are interesting too. One we saw was Igo, 2 miles, Ono, 4 miles. They didn’t say what was at 3 miles, but I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as whatever was in Ono!
Have you ever noticed those deer crossing signs along the road. They always show the same deer; a 4 point buck starting to jump. I always want to look in the opposite lane and see if they have a sign of the same deer landing. What I thought was really weird was the deer crossing sign we saw in Gazelle. You’d think that there wouldn’t even be any deer in town called Gazelle!
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Bigfoot news
left hand side: reputed BF. right hand image: a costume of BF that is available.
Looks kinda of fishy! One, Tom Biscardi is involved (a known BF hoaxer). Two, Fox was the first mainstream news to run this on 8/13/08. 2nd strike.
If so, why couldn't have been in Del Norte County?
http://www.cnn.com/2008/US/08/14/bigfoot.body/index.html
Friday, August 08, 2008
This is a letter I wrote back to my principal after receiving a "Welcome Back to School Letter" a month early.
Mr. Fab,
What I want to know is, are you still on the fruit and nut diet for breakfast? It sounds like all on the trip were in agreement as to its merits and it was a pretty heady commitment. It would be my guess that it was probably right after breakfast with a full stomach. A classic weak moment. The question is; was it just a ‘pinky pact,’ or a comment to be disregarded at the golden arches the next morning before breakfast?
Personally, just so you know, the re-charging of my batteries has only just begun. I’m going to stuff as much as I can into the remainder of summer vacation. I have a whole list of things to do before school starts, and that doesn’t even include playing like SOME people do. Some of us are dedicated to responsibility, commitment, perseverance, and hard work. Wow, that sounds like the beginnings of some kind of pep talk from a football coach or something! I better be careful.
I did look at the pics on your trip’s blog. It looked like a very memorable time. You were able to go to some really neat places. In a sense, I kind of envy you the trip, just not with that many people. Wait a minute, you’re a principal, you deal with groups of people all the time. No problem. You probably had it all planned out and I’m sure everyone saw your way as the best way and there weren’t any arguments! Did you EVER win an argument with your wife?
In fact, it looked like the males were vastly outnumbered by the females, much like at Joe Hamilton, out-womaned and under-gunned. Those don’t appear to be very good odds, and I’m not even a gambler. I remembered something about probability, chance, and odds from a 5th grade math book. As much as you like to gamble you should’ve thought this one all the way through! Or, was it, to get your way you had to take your son aside and bribe him to throw a temper tantrum on the floor in sight of your wife while you just looked at her with that “I don’t know what to do” look in your eyes? Actually, I don’t think your son would do that, I just made that up.
You made me recall the trip we took in 2001 across the US in a Toyota Dolphin. Yeh, it had a bathroom too, but anytime anyone said that they had to go to the bathroom I would start looking for trees along the road or wide spots with tall grass just so the one in the Dolphin didn’t get used. As you can imagine, it was a real problem getting across Kansas (not too many trees). Going to the bathroom behind a redwood tree is much more comfortable than trying to hide everything behind a skinny two year old poplar tree. I guess we’re kinda spoiled out here. Nevertheless, As soon as they saw a tree they always made a beeline for the tree line. But, there were wheat fields, a lot of wheat fields, generally amber in color. Those amber waves of grain are really pretty short.
I don’t even want to know how many farmers’ dinners we interrupted when we had to stop.
“Hey, Myrtle, what’s that dark spot out in the field? Where are my binoculars? Geez, it’s another damn tourist. They must be from northern California, they have white cheeks, I can even see their tan line. Get my shotgun, the one with the rock salt in it.”
“Well quit staring then!”
I guess it probably gave them a story to talk about at the feed store the next morning, it didn’t look like a whole lot else went on there.
Iowa was much better as there was always a cornfield nearby; although there were a few times I had to lay on the horn to guide them back to the road. It seems that those cornfields are really tall and it’s easy to get disoriented. It wasn’t all bad though, most of the time they would come back with an armload of corn, so all was forgiven. Sometimes though they just had to jump out, settle for a lull in the traffic, and do their business. Interrupting farmers didn’t seem to be as much of a problem there.
Now, on to more serious business; I recall something about proposed schedules for the 2008-2009 school year, and while I didn’t commit them to memory, I was wondering if any of them involved starting any later? I’m having a real hard time waking up at 7:30 a.m.! I keep trying to convince my wife that I’m a ‘morning person,’ but my evidence is pretty weak. So, if it’s easier to ‘raise the bridge than lowering the river’ that’s the one I’m voting for.
Excuse me, I must get back to enjoying summer,
Jim
What I want to know is, are you still on the fruit and nut diet for breakfast? It sounds like all on the trip were in agreement as to its merits and it was a pretty heady commitment. It would be my guess that it was probably right after breakfast with a full stomach. A classic weak moment. The question is; was it just a ‘pinky pact,’ or a comment to be disregarded at the golden arches the next morning before breakfast?
Personally, just so you know, the re-charging of my batteries has only just begun. I’m going to stuff as much as I can into the remainder of summer vacation. I have a whole list of things to do before school starts, and that doesn’t even include playing like SOME people do. Some of us are dedicated to responsibility, commitment, perseverance, and hard work. Wow, that sounds like the beginnings of some kind of pep talk from a football coach or something! I better be careful.
I did look at the pics on your trip’s blog. It looked like a very memorable time. You were able to go to some really neat places. In a sense, I kind of envy you the trip, just not with that many people. Wait a minute, you’re a principal, you deal with groups of people all the time. No problem. You probably had it all planned out and I’m sure everyone saw your way as the best way and there weren’t any arguments! Did you EVER win an argument with your wife?
In fact, it looked like the males were vastly outnumbered by the females, much like at Joe Hamilton, out-womaned and under-gunned. Those don’t appear to be very good odds, and I’m not even a gambler. I remembered something about probability, chance, and odds from a 5th grade math book. As much as you like to gamble you should’ve thought this one all the way through! Or, was it, to get your way you had to take your son aside and bribe him to throw a temper tantrum on the floor in sight of your wife while you just looked at her with that “I don’t know what to do” look in your eyes? Actually, I don’t think your son would do that, I just made that up.
You made me recall the trip we took in 2001 across the US in a Toyota Dolphin. Yeh, it had a bathroom too, but anytime anyone said that they had to go to the bathroom I would start looking for trees along the road or wide spots with tall grass just so the one in the Dolphin didn’t get used. As you can imagine, it was a real problem getting across Kansas (not too many trees). Going to the bathroom behind a redwood tree is much more comfortable than trying to hide everything behind a skinny two year old poplar tree. I guess we’re kinda spoiled out here. Nevertheless, As soon as they saw a tree they always made a beeline for the tree line. But, there were wheat fields, a lot of wheat fields, generally amber in color. Those amber waves of grain are really pretty short.
I don’t even want to know how many farmers’ dinners we interrupted when we had to stop.
“Hey, Myrtle, what’s that dark spot out in the field? Where are my binoculars? Geez, it’s another damn tourist. They must be from northern California, they have white cheeks, I can even see their tan line. Get my shotgun, the one with the rock salt in it.”
“Well quit staring then!”
I guess it probably gave them a story to talk about at the feed store the next morning, it didn’t look like a whole lot else went on there.
Iowa was much better as there was always a cornfield nearby; although there were a few times I had to lay on the horn to guide them back to the road. It seems that those cornfields are really tall and it’s easy to get disoriented. It wasn’t all bad though, most of the time they would come back with an armload of corn, so all was forgiven. Sometimes though they just had to jump out, settle for a lull in the traffic, and do their business. Interrupting farmers didn’t seem to be as much of a problem there.
Now, on to more serious business; I recall something about proposed schedules for the 2008-2009 school year, and while I didn’t commit them to memory, I was wondering if any of them involved starting any later? I’m having a real hard time waking up at 7:30 a.m.! I keep trying to convince my wife that I’m a ‘morning person,’ but my evidence is pretty weak. So, if it’s easier to ‘raise the bridge than lowering the river’ that’s the one I’m voting for.
Excuse me, I must get back to enjoying summer,
Jim
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
A fishin' story...
Copy and paste the link below.
http://www.triplicate.com/news/story.cfm?story_no=9730
http://www.triplicate.com/news/story.cfm?story_no=9730
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Point to ponder.
Big people talk about ideas.
Average people talk about things.
Small people talk about other people.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
My grandchild!!!!!!!
When a person looks at images like these it helps to have a pretty vivid imagination. Luckily the head is marked. Everything is sorta vague from there.
Jim
Sunday, July 06, 2008
The ZAP on CNN's iReport
Our ZAP made CNN. They posed a question that I couldn't resist.
http://www.ireport.com/ir-topic-stories.jspa?topicId=41879
http://www.ireport.com/ir-topic-stories.jspa?topicId=41879
Friday, July 04, 2008
Thursday, July 03, 2008
A quick camping trip.
Andrew and I took a quick camping trip over to the Klamath River. It was REALLY smoky. We fished, took pictures, and paddled the kayak. We left on Tuesday morning and came back on Wednesday night. We made dinner at a place called Bolen Lake, it's a lake at about 5,400 feet, 36 miles air from here. It takes about 2 hours to get there, but worth every moment. Beautiful setting, great campground, and 0 people.
Jim
Jim
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
The "Next Chapter of my Life Contest" entry
The “post 50” phase of my life will be life-changing, career molding, and even more interesting than the first 50. While I enjoy things like fishing, kayaking, painting, and photography, I feel I am doing the most important thing I can be doing; teaching the next generation by passing on the values that were planted in me. Principles, that my parents, if they were here, be proud of me for. I am a 5th teacher.
I am what you may call, a “late bloomer.” In part of my working career, I’ve been a logger, commercial fisherman, and developed my own sign business. My wife and I were the first ones in our respective families of a combined 14 children to receive our B.A. degrees, during which we lived apart as a family to fulfill these goals. We have since raised our two sons that have also completed their college educations. I started to teach when I was 42 years old and haven’t regretted a minute of it. I do not need to go on a Vision Quest. My vision is clear and I’m fulfilling my quest, even though I am still paying off my student loans.
Teaching can be an all-consuming and rewarding job at the same time. It is important to recharge one’s batteries and energy. Thus, I believe that it is important to visit the places that I must teach about. This is the reason I’ve taken the opportunity to travel to the East Coast and visit some of America’s historical sites. For my 50th birthday my grown sons gave me their present by accompanying me on my life-long dream of hiking the Chilkoot Trail in Alaska. Fulfilling life’s goals with those that you love is a very satisfying experience.
So, the next chapter of my life will be simple; keeping myself healthy for those I love, and aspire to be the best teacher my students will ever have. Being a teacher really does allow me to affect and inspire the future. My best reward? The future that they create and the positive impact they make.
Carpe diem
Friday, June 13, 2008
Fuel cost cut by 1/2!!!!
http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/asiapcf/06/13/zakaria.oilprices/index.html
This guy is right-on!!!!
Jim
This guy is right-on!!!!
Jim
Rick's retirement.
Rick said he didn’t want to have a formal roast, so we’ll just have a slight baste.
Before I get into this I’m going to give him one last chance to redeem himself. Since Rick first brought up this crazy idea of retiring I’ve endeavored to make him see the error of his ways. I’ve offered myself in place of him. I know it’s a great sacrifice, but I figure that it would be it would be in everyone’s best interest.
I’ve offered to trade my years of service for Rick’s years of service. That way the District will go on reaping his years of experience and I can do foolish things like fishing, kayaking, painting, photography, fishing, and maybe even get serious about surfing. Did I include fishing?
I know, I know, foolish things, but that’s what I’d do. That way it’s a win-win for everyone. Rick gets to keep working, and I get to, well, get to play. He really shouldn’t rush into this retirement thing with having thought it out first.
He’d probably do something foolish like go to Alaska to visit friends and go fishing, and not come back until December. I can see it now, you’re watching that show on TV, ‘Deadliest Catch,’ and you catch a glimpse of Rick baiting King Crab pots aboard one of those fishing boats. It’s either that or possibly on the show, ‘Dancing with the Stars.’
With this crazy retirement thing I’m really concerned that Rick will go on some kind of Vision Quest and realize too late that he doesn’t have a map. A GPS wouldn’t help because it’s too close to a computer, and we all know about Rick and computers. Let there be no question, Rick, unlike Al Gore, did not invent the Internet. Rick’s idea of new technology is to buy a brand new chisel and a new stone tablet. This means he’s finally going to have to learn to use his TV remote, but he’ll have to find it first.
Don’t try to call him on his cell phone, he only turns in on long enough to charge it up.
You may not know it but he really is a conscious kind of guy, he admits to coming to work late at times, but he makes up for it by leaving early.
In case you didn’t know it, Rick’s been retired about 6 months already. His kids know everything there is to know about surfing and Tsunamis.
Actually he’s pretty smart in dealing with other principals, he knows when to keep his mouth shut.
Yes, Rick is entering those ‘Golden Years’ where he won’t have anything planned, anywhere to go, and not in a hurry to get it done each day, but he’ll feel successful and vindicated at the end of the day because he will have accomplished all of it, and his clothes will be folded.
The good news is, he’ll probably be able to give you updates on 'Oprah’ or ‘Sex in the City’ reruns if you want.
By the way, I understand he’ll be available for babysitting jobs, and the best thing, he works cheap, if you don’t mind your child smelling like fish when he leaves.
In the spirit of Jeff Foxworthy, you know you’re getting close to retirement when you to in turn in a request for days off and Angie sends it back with the note, ‘Sorry, champ, you’re out of sick days.’
Actually, Rick is planning this retirement thing out pretty well, he’s doing it before Tony suggests it.
I know he’ll feel true guilt this September when he starts to drive downtown and get coffee and his truck makes a involuntary turn into the Joe Hamilton parking lot.
So, as he steps on the threshold of retirement I hope he doesn’t trip up and make any rash choices.
I’d like to give him this sign and painting. It was either this or a lifetime supply of bingo cards.
Before I get into this I’m going to give him one last chance to redeem himself. Since Rick first brought up this crazy idea of retiring I’ve endeavored to make him see the error of his ways. I’ve offered myself in place of him. I know it’s a great sacrifice, but I figure that it would be it would be in everyone’s best interest.
I’ve offered to trade my years of service for Rick’s years of service. That way the District will go on reaping his years of experience and I can do foolish things like fishing, kayaking, painting, photography, fishing, and maybe even get serious about surfing. Did I include fishing?
I know, I know, foolish things, but that’s what I’d do. That way it’s a win-win for everyone. Rick gets to keep working, and I get to, well, get to play. He really shouldn’t rush into this retirement thing with having thought it out first.
He’d probably do something foolish like go to Alaska to visit friends and go fishing, and not come back until December. I can see it now, you’re watching that show on TV, ‘Deadliest Catch,’ and you catch a glimpse of Rick baiting King Crab pots aboard one of those fishing boats. It’s either that or possibly on the show, ‘Dancing with the Stars.’
With this crazy retirement thing I’m really concerned that Rick will go on some kind of Vision Quest and realize too late that he doesn’t have a map. A GPS wouldn’t help because it’s too close to a computer, and we all know about Rick and computers. Let there be no question, Rick, unlike Al Gore, did not invent the Internet. Rick’s idea of new technology is to buy a brand new chisel and a new stone tablet. This means he’s finally going to have to learn to use his TV remote, but he’ll have to find it first.
Don’t try to call him on his cell phone, he only turns in on long enough to charge it up.
You may not know it but he really is a conscious kind of guy, he admits to coming to work late at times, but he makes up for it by leaving early.
In case you didn’t know it, Rick’s been retired about 6 months already. His kids know everything there is to know about surfing and Tsunamis.
Actually he’s pretty smart in dealing with other principals, he knows when to keep his mouth shut.
Yes, Rick is entering those ‘Golden Years’ where he won’t have anything planned, anywhere to go, and not in a hurry to get it done each day, but he’ll feel successful and vindicated at the end of the day because he will have accomplished all of it, and his clothes will be folded.
The good news is, he’ll probably be able to give you updates on 'Oprah’ or ‘Sex in the City’ reruns if you want.
By the way, I understand he’ll be available for babysitting jobs, and the best thing, he works cheap, if you don’t mind your child smelling like fish when he leaves.
In the spirit of Jeff Foxworthy, you know you’re getting close to retirement when you to in turn in a request for days off and Angie sends it back with the note, ‘Sorry, champ, you’re out of sick days.’
Actually, Rick is planning this retirement thing out pretty well, he’s doing it before Tony suggests it.
I know he’ll feel true guilt this September when he starts to drive downtown and get coffee and his truck makes a involuntary turn into the Joe Hamilton parking lot.
So, as he steps on the threshold of retirement I hope he doesn’t trip up and make any rash choices.
I’d like to give him this sign and painting. It was either this or a lifetime supply of bingo cards.
Where are those pickled herring?
I just read a story of this Dutch woman who was the oldest person in the world. She just died at the ripe old age of 115. She was "sharp right up to the end, joking that pickled herring was the secret to her longevity." Scientists say that Henrikje van Andel-Schipper's mind was probably as good as it seemed: a post-mortem analysis of her brain revealed few signs of Alzheimer's or other diseases commonly associated with a decline in mental ability in old age."
I read that at the age of 82 she called a uninversity to inform them she wanted to donate her body to science. When she was 111 she made her second call worried she might no longer be of interest.
I thought it was really nice of the elder home she was staying in, when asked what she really died of, "the director of the elderly home where she was living declined to give a cause of death, pointing to her extremely advanced years." Pretty safe answer.
"She died from stomach cancer, and you and I can also die from stomach cancer, her case demonstrates that very old people die of diseases, not simply old age.
I guess the secret is in the pickled herring, and her last piece of advice.
Asked what advice she would give to people who want to live a long time, she once quipped: "Keep breathing."
Jim
I read that at the age of 82 she called a uninversity to inform them she wanted to donate her body to science. When she was 111 she made her second call worried she might no longer be of interest.
I thought it was really nice of the elder home she was staying in, when asked what she really died of, "the director of the elderly home where she was living declined to give a cause of death, pointing to her extremely advanced years." Pretty safe answer.
"She died from stomach cancer, and you and I can also die from stomach cancer, her case demonstrates that very old people die of diseases, not simply old age.
I guess the secret is in the pickled herring, and her last piece of advice.
Asked what advice she would give to people who want to live a long time, she once quipped: "Keep breathing."
Jim
Friday, May 16, 2008
Randy and Claudia are married!!!!!
This has been a whirlwind week. Randy announced last Sunday that he and Claudia were going to be married soon. Real soon. They got married last Wednesday at the local courthouse. They went through the wedding planning phase a few months ago and it quickly grew out of control. They opted for a small wedding with a reception sometime later this summer. We're happy for them.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Some talk about getting in the water, and, well, some actually get in.
Another fun day with Rachael and Andrew. We went to a dog obedience class this morning and then went up to the river this afternoon.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Your True Nature
Advice from a tree
Stand tall and proud.
Sink your toots into the Earth.
Be content with your natural beauty.
Go out on a limb.
Drink plenty of water.
Remember your roots.
Enjoy the view.
Stand tall and proud.
Sink your toots into the Earth.
Be content with your natural beauty.
Go out on a limb.
Drink plenty of water.
Remember your roots.
Enjoy the view.
3-29-08 Lyons Ranch / shooting
Yes, it was cold at Lyons Ranch, but there were beautiful vistas to look at. Looking to the east we could see the Trinity Alps, to the west the Pacific Ocean, to the south Redwood National Park, to the north the lair of Bigfoot. No, we didn't stop in.
Ahh, what a nice, and 'coolish' (Hooperism) day.
Jim
Friday, March 28, 2008
Be Careful Out There:
IDIOT SIGHTING:
We had to have the garage door repaired. The Sears repairman told us that one of our problems was that we did not have a 'large' enough motor on the opener. I thought for a minute, and said that we had the largest one Sears made at that time, a 1/2 horsepower. He shook his head and said, 'Lady, you need a 1/4 horsepower.' I responded that 1/2 was larger than 1/4. He said, 'NO, it's not.' Four is larger than two..'
We haven't used Sears repair since.
IDIOT SIGHTING
My daughter and I went through the McDonald's take-out window and I gave the clerk a $5 bill. Our total was $4.25, so I also handed her a quarter. She said, 'you gave me too much money.' I said, 'Yes I know, but this way you can just give me a dollar bill back.' She sighed and went to get the manager who asked me to repeat my request. I did so, and he handed me back the quarter, and said 'We're sorry but they could not do that kind of thing.' The clerk then proceeded to give me back $1 and 75 cents in change.
Do not confuse the clerks at McD's.
IDIOT SIGHTING IN FOOD SERVICE:
My daughter went to a local Taco Bell and ordered a taco. She asked the person behind the counter for 'minimal lettuce.' He said he was sorry, but they only had iceburg lettuce.
From Kansas City
IDIOT SIGHTING :
I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked , 'Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?' To which I replied, 'If it was without my knowledge, how would I know?' He smiled knowingly and nodded, 'That's why we ask.'
Happened in Birmingham , Ala.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
The stoplight on the corner buzzes when it's safe to cross the street. I was crossing with an intellectually challenged coworker of mine. She asked if I knew what the buzzer was for. I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red. Appalled, she responded, 'What on earth are blind people doing driving?!'
She was a probation officer in Wichita , KS
IDIOT SIGHTING:
At a good-bye luncheon for an old and dear coworker. She was leaving the company due to 'downsizing.' Our manager commented cheerfully, 'This is fun. We should do this more often.' Not another word was spoken. We all just looked at each other with that deer-in-the-headlights stare.
This was a lunch at Texas Instruments.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
I work with an individual who plugged her power strip back into itself and for the sake of her life, couldn't understand why her system would not turn on.
A deputy with the Dallas County Sheriffs office, no less.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
When my husband and I arrived at an automobile dealership to pick up our car, we were told the keys had been locked in it. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the drivers side door. As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked. 'Hey,' I announced to the technician, 'its open!' His reply, 'I know. I already got that side.'
This was at the Ford dealership in Canton, Missippi
STAY ALERT!
They walk among us... and the scary part is that they VOTE and
they REPRODUCE !
We had to have the garage door repaired. The Sears repairman told us that one of our problems was that we did not have a 'large' enough motor on the opener. I thought for a minute, and said that we had the largest one Sears made at that time, a 1/2 horsepower. He shook his head and said, 'Lady, you need a 1/4 horsepower.' I responded that 1/2 was larger than 1/4. He said, 'NO, it's not.' Four is larger than two..'
We haven't used Sears repair since.
IDIOT SIGHTING
My daughter and I went through the McDonald's take-out window and I gave the clerk a $5 bill. Our total was $4.25, so I also handed her a quarter. She said, 'you gave me too much money.' I said, 'Yes I know, but this way you can just give me a dollar bill back.' She sighed and went to get the manager who asked me to repeat my request. I did so, and he handed me back the quarter, and said 'We're sorry but they could not do that kind of thing.' The clerk then proceeded to give me back $1 and 75 cents in change.
Do not confuse the clerks at McD's.
IDIOT SIGHTING IN FOOD SERVICE:
My daughter went to a local Taco Bell and ordered a taco. She asked the person behind the counter for 'minimal lettuce.' He said he was sorry, but they only had iceburg lettuce.
From Kansas City
IDIOT SIGHTING :
I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked , 'Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?' To which I replied, 'If it was without my knowledge, how would I know?' He smiled knowingly and nodded, 'That's why we ask.'
Happened in Birmingham , Ala.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
The stoplight on the corner buzzes when it's safe to cross the street. I was crossing with an intellectually challenged coworker of mine. She asked if I knew what the buzzer was for. I explained that it signals blind people when the light is red. Appalled, she responded, 'What on earth are blind people doing driving?!'
She was a probation officer in Wichita , KS
IDIOT SIGHTING:
At a good-bye luncheon for an old and dear coworker. She was leaving the company due to 'downsizing.' Our manager commented cheerfully, 'This is fun. We should do this more often.' Not another word was spoken. We all just looked at each other with that deer-in-the-headlights stare.
This was a lunch at Texas Instruments.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
I work with an individual who plugged her power strip back into itself and for the sake of her life, couldn't understand why her system would not turn on.
A deputy with the Dallas County Sheriffs office, no less.
IDIOT SIGHTING :
When my husband and I arrived at an automobile dealership to pick up our car, we were told the keys had been locked in it. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the drivers side door. As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked. 'Hey,' I announced to the technician, 'its open!' His reply, 'I know. I already got that side.'
This was at the Ford dealership in Canton, Missippi
STAY ALERT!
They walk among us... and the scary part is that they VOTE and
they REPRODUCE !
Sunday, March 23, 2008
7th day trip home / beach
This is what I look like while waiting for the Stagecoach (shuttle) at 2:45 in the morning. The flight we were on was too late to even be considered a "Red Eye." Our flight was not to leave until 5:10, but we had to be to the airport about 3:30 a.m. Lucky for us, after a slight delay, we left at dawn. Unlucky for me, there wasn't an opportunity for me to get bumped. We arrived back in Arcata about 10:15 a.m. to a cool northcoast welcome.
After we arrived home I took Ohmah down to the beach and made sure that everything was OK on this side of the world. It was.
Jim
6th day
Well, as you can see, again, we didn't get a lot done. We just spent the day soaking up the sun and marinating in the pool. It was all a neat memory and a place that was very special to us. The labyrinth was a new experience, so we left our own stone pile there. I, as I always do when we go to a new place, brought back a rock as a mnemonic device (not a physical device, merely a tactile device) to aid in remembering the experience.
Jim
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Today we were going to walk down to the bus stop to catch a ride to, well, where ever the bus goes, but we found out that the bus only goes by every hour. Yes, you're right, it took us an hour to figure that out and we missed it both times. By that time we had lost our incentive to "go where ever the bus goes" and stopped to get something to eat and came back to the pool. No use taxing ourselves, or stressing ourselves out, when we didn't really have a plan anyway.
The rest of the day (yes, we accomplished all that by 11:30) we spent by the pool holding the deck chairs down from slipping out from underneath us. You can see that we did leave our visible mark on the pool deck, but just like every other mark that man leaves, ut was soon just a distant memory.
Jim
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
3-18-08 4th day Tohono Chul State Park
Today we had too much planned; resting, relaxing, walking to and visiting a nearby park, resting, sitting by the pool, relaxing. Did I mention relaxing? Well, we were able to accomplish it all. Actually, I'm feeling pretty successful as we were able to do it all again. I guess that we're just 'overachievers.' We walked down to Tohono State Park, which is actually a microcosm of the nearby desert environment. It was a 10 on the 'cool scale.' There was even a docent to lead us around and made it much more interesting than just walking around by ourselves. With all the information that they shared with us, I'm just glad that there wasn't a test at the end! We completed the day by having lunch before we walked back and then mangaged to get in some more resting by the pool to top it off. Wheeewh...what a day.
Jim
3-17-08 3rd day 29TH Anniversary
Today was somewhat cool, but we did manage to pull some enjoyment out it, after all it was our 29th anniversary. It was kind of cool and so we were running in and out of our room all day. When there was a sunny period we would go out and sit in the chairs outside our room, and when the clouds came through we would come back in the room and wait for them to pass. We walked down to a small strip mall about 1/2 mile away and bought some groceries so we wouldn't be compelled to eat at the place we're staying.
In the evening we went to dinner though, and had a nice anniversary dinner complete with toasting with champagne at the precise time we were married. We figured out that I'd be 91 at our 2nd, 29th anniversary!
Jim
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
First day
Well, I must say, it was a successful day. We didn't have much planned, but we accomplished all of it! Mainly just walked around the grounds, ate breakfast, and laid by the pool. I dove in and mom said I looked like an otter, the ultimate compliment...I think. But, I did open up my eyes underwater for the first time in about 30 years...sans contacts!
They say it's suppossed to rain, but it just gets sort of cloudy, clears off and then gets cloudy again. Oh well, I guess it's just like home except for the fact that at home it doesn't clear off when it gets cloudy and it does rain. The temp is about 70*, which, I guess, also makes it different than home.
For being bumped I got a $600 voucher that is good anywhere in the US for one year.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
The weekend
This weekend, Sandi and I drove down to Novato to hear an author that we had been reading, speak. Eckhart Tolle was a very interesting and inspirational speaker.
I thought that this image was kind of interesting. It made me wonder since the toiletries are labeled so boldly, what would happen if you used them in the wrong place. Maybe, it's some type of subtle warning.
That night we drove back up to Fortuna so we could be in Ferndale early in the morning for the run we were to enter. We had plans to enter the Foggy Bottom Milk Run. This is a run that Randy and Andrew had run when they were about 10 and 12 years old. At the time Sandi and I didn't run in it. Well, this time it was our turn. Our 4.1 mile run was to start at 2:00 so we had plenty of time to scope the competition out. The bad news is that I lined up in the wrong place. All the cows had numbered tags so I thought that this would be a good place to start. But still I thought to myself, "I can outrun these heifers easily!" I soon figured out that maybe I was at the wrong starting line when all they wanted to do was chase me. Do I really look that much like a steer?
Well, after we found the real starting line we had to formulate a plan. I told Sandi that I probably couldn't run the entire 4.1 miles, in fact, so to pace myself and save my energy for a kick at the end, I'd warm up the first 4 miles by walking and then sprint the last .1 mile. I figured that since the only training I had done to prepare for this run was to walk to the starting line (quickly), that would be a prudent approach.
In a way it was somewhat like a dogsled race. If you're not lead dog, the view is all the same. Let's just say that I wasn't the lead of anything, so there was plenty views of what a dog sees if they're not the lead.
But, sometimes anger can serve to motivate a person, namely me. There was this older couple with white hair that were also running the race, at least I think they were a couple. No, there's nothing wrong with white hair, it's just that they were ahead of me for most of the run. I'd run for awhile and pass them, then I'd walk and they'd pass me. That went on for most of the race until I took matters into my own hands. I pulled a NASCAR move on the lady. All the NASCAR fans out there would be very proud. I waited for an inside corner and took the outside. I pulled in real close and knocked her into the ditch and rolled on out of there. I think it's called a 'bump and roll' in the NASCAR lingo. Anyway, I ran for a long time after that and crossed the finish line much before she did. That'll show some 70 year-old lady that she can't beat me.
Anyway, it was a successful day that was followed by a sore day, but that's OK, it was still a good weekend. Randy and Claudia invited us over for shish-ka-bobs. MmmMmmm good. One of those weekends where it's good to get back to work so I can get some much needed rest.
Jim
I thought that this image was kind of interesting. It made me wonder since the toiletries are labeled so boldly, what would happen if you used them in the wrong place. Maybe, it's some type of subtle warning.
That night we drove back up to Fortuna so we could be in Ferndale early in the morning for the run we were to enter. We had plans to enter the Foggy Bottom Milk Run. This is a run that Randy and Andrew had run when they were about 10 and 12 years old. At the time Sandi and I didn't run in it. Well, this time it was our turn. Our 4.1 mile run was to start at 2:00 so we had plenty of time to scope the competition out. The bad news is that I lined up in the wrong place. All the cows had numbered tags so I thought that this would be a good place to start. But still I thought to myself, "I can outrun these heifers easily!" I soon figured out that maybe I was at the wrong starting line when all they wanted to do was chase me. Do I really look that much like a steer?
Well, after we found the real starting line we had to formulate a plan. I told Sandi that I probably couldn't run the entire 4.1 miles, in fact, so to pace myself and save my energy for a kick at the end, I'd warm up the first 4 miles by walking and then sprint the last .1 mile. I figured that since the only training I had done to prepare for this run was to walk to the starting line (quickly), that would be a prudent approach.
In a way it was somewhat like a dogsled race. If you're not lead dog, the view is all the same. Let's just say that I wasn't the lead of anything, so there was plenty views of what a dog sees if they're not the lead.
But, sometimes anger can serve to motivate a person, namely me. There was this older couple with white hair that were also running the race, at least I think they were a couple. No, there's nothing wrong with white hair, it's just that they were ahead of me for most of the run. I'd run for awhile and pass them, then I'd walk and they'd pass me. That went on for most of the race until I took matters into my own hands. I pulled a NASCAR move on the lady. All the NASCAR fans out there would be very proud. I waited for an inside corner and took the outside. I pulled in real close and knocked her into the ditch and rolled on out of there. I think it's called a 'bump and roll' in the NASCAR lingo. Anyway, I ran for a long time after that and crossed the finish line much before she did. That'll show some 70 year-old lady that she can't beat me.
Anyway, it was a successful day that was followed by a sore day, but that's OK, it was still a good weekend. Randy and Claudia invited us over for shish-ka-bobs. MmmMmmm good. One of those weekends where it's good to get back to work so I can get some much needed rest.
Jim
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Today was a play day.
I left the house and 11 minutes later I was paddling out into Lake Earl to go exploring. I opened up a curtain that not too many people venture beyond. Minutes away, but yet a world away.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Life recharged.....again!
This last weekend was an opportunity for me to appreciate, sense, and enjoy the woods again. While Andrew and I were only getting wood not more than a 1/4 mile off Hwy. 199, when I am out of sight of the highway I can feel and understand the wildness of the outdoors. Wilderness and the out-of-doors is a medium for magic, much like water is for electricity. In this world of control, wilderness is a place of magic, a place where we are not in control.
The evening was a time of twilight mirage, a time where we can imagine without needing to prove our visions and revelations. A time to see without believing, a time to believe without proving.
The evening was a time of twilight mirage, a time where we can imagine without needing to prove our visions and revelations. A time to see without believing, a time to believe without proving.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
It's OK, my Carbon Credit footprint savings have been offset by Andrew's new, used (oxymoron) PU.
Hey, if countries of the world can buy and sell their alloted carbon credits, I guess, that I, as a citizen of Earth, should have some entitlement to do that too.
It's a 2004 Dodge Ram 4X4 Diesel with EVERYTHING, except butt-warmers. In spite of this, I did say that I'd offer to pull him out of any tight spots he gets into with my ZAP.
We went up to cut wood and even in 4 wheel drive backing up with a full load of wet wood (easily 3,000 lbs.) it didn't even rev up past an idle. His ashtray probably has more horsepower than the ZAP.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Getting wood in Andrew's truck
In case there's any question, I'm the one in front without the 'girlish' figure.
Jim
Monday, February 11, 2008
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Friday, February 08, 2008
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
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