Monday, December 31, 2012

365 or 366 days ago and onward from there

I must note, that if you read my writing on occasion you will notice that it is not very organized. I jump all around with it. I heard once that a real writer will organize what they intend to write, editing all in their heads before putting it to words in a document. I'm not like that at all and for a long time considered that I was not a real writer. Unpublished, barely considered, but a writer no less. What I am attempting to point out here is that although I am not an organized writer, I am not an organized anything. Not an organized mechanic either. This is what this is about, plus what happens because of circumstances of a person who is unorganized doing the best he can with what he has. I have gone bak and reviewed some of my other writings on this subject and it looks like I didn't give as many details about this situation.

On Dec. 30, 2011 I was trying to determine what was wrong with my van. It had died at the auto parts store and wouldn't start again. I couldn't get it going, so I called the two company and had it towed to the front of the house I lived in at the time. Not my house, if it was, I would have put it in the driveway.

I didn't do the things I should have to determine what was wrong with it but decided it was the fuel pump. I ordered a used one and it had to come from Salem. I proceeded to block the tires and jack the van up off the ground. At the time I only had two jack stands and decided that the back would be jacked up because the drain for the fuel tank was in the front area of that tank.

Having accomplished the jacking and putting stands under the support points I got the drain pan and proceeded to drain the nearly full tank of fuel from my van. This was not a very well planned project on my part obviously if I had a nearly full tank of gas. I had never attempted to do this particular job on any vehicle, but had the maintenance manual guiding me along.

I didn't make a tool list and bring all the tools I thought I would need on this job up from my basement room where they were living along with my cat and I. I had brought tools I thought might be needed, but overlooked some and hence made a couple of excursions back into my basement room to retrieve more. It had been raining out earlier and was on and off through out the day. Swell, rain, cold and laying down in the street under my precariously looking jacked up van draining gas and loosening holding straps and all. In order not to tramp through the house with wet feet I opened up the side entrance and used the back door that leads to the stairs that go to the basement.

As the fuel continued to drain into the containers I had lined up for that task I went to the house to make another pot of coffee. I went to the back door entrance and wiped my feet good on the rug I had there for that purpose. I made the pot of coffee and drank a cup. Then I went back out to the van and the flow of gas had stopped. It took me about 2 hours to drain all of that without spilling large quantities on the street. I inspected the tank and there was  an extension to my ratchet wrench that I needed and I proceed to go back to the rear entrance and back to the basement tool box. I stepped inside the door, wiped off my feet and took 2 steps down the stair and then I lost my footing and there was a huge pain in my right knee! I described it to people as 15 on a scale of pain 1-10. This must have been the one of the worse pains I have ever felt. Time was suspended with me hanging in the air and then just as unexpectedly gravity to over and I was laying on my back on these hard concrete stairs with a huge pain in my right knee. When I was able to get back my senses other than the pain, I realized I was in trouble, big trouble!

I had to get myself upright and continue down the stairs. I had to find something to help me walk and found it as a bamboo staff that I had hanging around having found it on my school bus route. Then I had some assistance walking, but my knee was really painful. I got a couple of slats of plywood I had accumulated from projects and made a splint and wrapped these with duct tape on the outside of my pants to keep my knee supported. I had to go back up the stairs and that was extremely difficult and painful now having a useless right leg that was now immobilized by a splint. 9 steps to the top, slowly.

Once upstairs had to put all my tools into the van, lift my 60 pound floor jack into the van and generally clean up my mess. That took about an hour or so it seemed. I still had to figure out how I was going to get to the doctor. This was serious and needed some attention from medical professionals. I noticed my neighbor two doors away and hobbled over to him and asked him if I could get a ride to the clinic.

I got the ride and then a ride home from another friend and my landlord made a detailed incident report. He was very annoying taking an hour and a half to write down all that had taken place, trying to cover his ass for the situation, suggesting reasons for me slipping on the substandard stairs that we had discussions about in the past. He tried suggesting that I stepped in some gas and that I was at fault for the whole thing. I was just like in an auto accident, not admitting fault. He was grilling me and I told him a couple of times he was asking for to many details and working on to many assumptions. I should have just told him I'm sorry, I fell and the pain in my leg is tiring me out. You have the general picture of my situation. You see he is a manager in a production company and feels that he had to get all the details, get me to admit to some fault perhaps so if I sued him, he would have my statement from the day of the accident to refute anything I might say later down the road.

I had friends who advised me to sue his ass, take his house etc. I am not like that, I was just hoping his home owners insurance would cover my medical expenses and my loss of work wages. I found out later the insurance doesn't cover that. He would need to have another policy, a business policy because he was renting to me. Of course, it was essentially an illegal rental situation and I was shit out of luck. He did admit 50% responsibility, but in his way of thinking my 50% cancelled out his 50% and he didn't owe me shit. I'm sure his friends and family are telling him he is lucky that I was so dumb for not suing his ass. I already told him at some point that is not who I am. It is important to me to be who I say I am and not change my mind. I did go to a mediation service who essentially told me I would have to get him to come in too. I decided, since I was still living there that I didn't want to make it more uncomfortable by getting him to take time away from his time to haggle over him compensating me for some of my costs. That was what was suggested by my sisters. After hobbling around town seeing people I decided it was more trouble than it was worth in stress.

Today, on the last day of a rather tough year, I have regained about 85-90% of the use of my right knee. It will likely never be 100% of what it was, but I am now walking with more stability than I had up until about July-Sept. of this year.

My living situation changed back in Oct. when I moved back to SE Portland renting space from some friends. It is rough, but way better than I was doing a for the previous 2.5 years. Onward to the next year, another birthday. Going to be 63 in 30 days, oh woot! I hope that the President will address climate change and end all war that USA is involved in! No more drone strikes, no more polluting fossil fuel companies, no more rain forest devastation! No more plutocracy, back to democracy!


Sunday, November 11, 2012

This might just be to personal, but so what?

I'm sure I've been in love in the past. In the not to distant past as well.  I've never known how to qualify love, having not understood exactly what it was. One of the age old questions is how to define love. Those who are in love, fallen or grown into it don't seem to find the need to have it defined. Those of us who are or may not  have been and lost it seem to keep seeking it out perhaps. Some of us don't.

Some of us just remain isolated not know that the love has always been in our hearts. It was put there before we were born. Being born is a shocking experience for many of us and we lose track for a while. Some of us grow up into households that don't know about love and ours is pushed way down. Some of us are nurtured and we know what love is.

Sharing love is the tough part I believe.  I am sure I was in love in my 20's with a woman  who shall remain anonymous. At least, I thought it was love. But how could it have been, when she just thought of me as a friend. I was infatuated for sure. I remember calling out her name when I thought I was going to die the second time.

I made a vow when I was 12 to never get married and have children and kept true to that vow. Maybe I cursed myself and that is part of why I never did. I never felt responsible enough to barely care for myself, let alone another person or two. I have always felt immature and as though my peers were growing up and I was still 12 years old, except my body was aging, but my mind didn't feel older. When I was around people my age or a little older, I had no confidence and that really was part of the problem, then the lack of focus was a huge issue and it was compounded by drinking. But the worst part was my confusion and chaos that circulated in my head.

My mind is still giving me that same old story, but it has aged, now it is thinking like I should have been thinking at 32. I am 62 and here is what I wrote about that the other day on a napkin no less:

It is obvious to others from my grey beard, wrinkles and age spots, I am an old guy. It only became obvious to me when I turned 60 &  2. Years later and still resisting age in my mind. This is probably something we all experience. I am no different in that respect. Of course, who can say what my chances of companionship are, because that is really all I am after for the most part. I am not really looking for it. My thing is to become infatuated with someone who is not available either by distance or emotionally or something. Infatuation, imagination something else we all share. And can someone at my age actually find a person who is attractive to more than my retirement account? That is an issue. Can we just be friends, without fear of becoming to close or to distant? Can we let the guard that surrounds our hearts down a little to actually take a risk.

You see my 32 year old brain doesn't really look closely at me and when I go shopping for instance and  a young woman smiles at me, it is my 32 year old who is flattered and I am now learning that she could be smiling because I am an aging old guy who might have once been 32 but I am not going to ask her out or for her phone #. That happened yesterday and I discussed it with my male friend who was shopping with me. I said she could have been smiling for the stated previous reasons and because she saw my long hair and that I was with someone that I am not just a boring old guy, but one who has been pushing against the system for longer than she has been on the planet. I am not interested in a woman who is half my age. I have nothing to prove nor the retirement account to put on a flashy front. I am just a guy who never figured out until the last 20 or so years what my relationship with the rest of the world is supposed to be like.

This is actually something I wrote to a woman I was dating back in 2001

(I met this woman through on line dating service. We dated, that is to say, we had phone conversations, met for dinners and had conversations. That is as far as it went. We would meet in Petaluma which was about 1/2 the way between where we both lived. I think we stopped because of the distance.)

Woman of the universe, strong, vibrant, full of energy and love. You are a scintillating star. I've been attracted by your energy. I can feel the heat that emanates from the burning fires in your heart, the center of your essence. I have been traveling for eons through the vastness of space, cool crystals of frozen water, a shooting star, explosive with a twinkling brilliance. I gather my energy from the surrounding space. In this time and existence, I hope we can both grow in strength and spirit and benefit from the knowing existence of each other.




11-09-2012 (My Sister's 54th Birthday)


This is not about my sister MCC though, just random ideas, thoughts and it happens to be today, her birthday.

Probably a few months ago I said I was going to stop washing my hair with shampoo or perhaps not washing it altogether. Well, I have been washing it with water only and then once in a while, when it feels right, use conditioner on it. It is working out well. I mean, why use shampoo that strips ones hair of all it's natural qualities generated by our bodies that are better balanced to handle our hair issues?

I was thinking about what our relatives of not so long ago and how they washed their hair without all the modern marvels that are now available to us through consumerism and advertising by those who are pulling on our strings? How indeed? Some of the daily chores of being a human are likely lost to those of us who are walking similar paths. There are plenty of lessons I did not hear or ask questions about when growing up. Plenty of practical questions that went unasked and unanswered!

That was short, I have just revisited and reread it. Can't add much more should send it on it's way into cyber-publication. Today is 11/11/12

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Changed this post to more ramblings.....and the continuing Chaos.

I used to just write whatever I was thinking, still do sometimes. Then some said why do you write that way and I had to look it up. I have to look up almost everything many times. It took me 30 years to figure out the keys to learning the difference between using the waxing and the waning moon. Waxing means it is getting bigger, like applying wax to your table, you increase the shine and protection, putting it on. Waning is the opposite and therefore it is getting smaller, dimmer, less shiny. It took me 30 years to figure that out. It took me into my 60's to know the kind of writing I do. I didn't learn the types of writing in the writing classes I took back in the 1990's. Of course, I just wrote, read a couple fo books and wrote. The 40 year old in classes with very young people. I am attempting to use html language again to post this link to wikipedia. Let's see if it works.
 Stream_of_consciousness_(narrative_mode)< /a> 

Well, it didn't work and I could get all hung up on trying to make it right, but my link will get you to wikipedia and then you can enter stream of consciousness into the search field. With this partial entry, it is almost a reflection of how I think, which is what I have been struggling with all my life. I struggle with my thinking because it is partially complete and I am left with a lot of dead ends, like incomplete sentences. When I don't think about what I am writing, which was my initial writing technique I have a lot of incomplete or run on sentences. It is tapping into my process. It is why I took touch typing so many years ago, because I couldn't write fast enough to get all my thoughts out. Driven by frustration and desperation, I took typing so that I could write more effectively for myself. Sometimes it seems to me or has seemed to me in the past that if I can just purge myself of all these transient thoughts I could think more clearly. That is not what turned out to be the case. Now, I feel less motivated to write, but have to do what most writers do, take breaks. I read once and it kind pissed me off that good writers will compose the whole book in their head, organize it and then write it. Pissed me off, because I very little ability to gather my thoughts and put them in order. Sometimes I tell people the inside of my van which if more often than not unorganized, a pigs stye sans the mud is a direct reflection of the inside of my brain.

Also, jumping from one topic to another, a symptom of my disjointed thinking. The chaos and confusion is a reoccurring theme in my writing because it has played a main part in my inabilities to communicate effectively throughout my life.

Here's how it is with me. I'm 62 years old and when I was growing up my thinking was damaged. I dont' know when it was damaged, perhaps in the forming of my brain, something went arye When adults tried to fit me into their way of thinking and I couldn't do it, I would say I can't do it. Then they would say sure you can, just apply yourself, I would try again and fail and say I can't do it. Can't do it was my growing up mantra. By refusing to further attempt to perform whatever task they requested of me, I was put in the trouble maker box. He can't do it because he choses not to attempt it. The thing is, I couldn't do it because I couldn't visualize or imagine it! Their inability to see my frustration and road blocks was either a system wide failure such as funding or training or whatever agenda the school system operated under at the time.

My ability to conceptualize is almost non existant. Today, I am attempting to reconstruct my bed frame, one that I designed and built in place at the North Portland residence initially, deconstructed it and transported it to SE and have attempted to reassemble it. I marked all the pieces and of course, marked them over markings from initial assembly. Good God, no wonder I struggled so with it, but that is not  all, I just struggled with it. I did take it with a sense of oh well, before I got to upset with my own inabilities. I took it into my room to finish it and found part of my problem was left outside because of uneven ground. I was using shims, but a more level surface helped me finish my task.

My struggles, because I process how I think it should go, but when I execute, something goes wrong and I don't pay as close attention as I should and it doesn't go together right!  I remember similar times when working on various car projects, taking something apart and not getting the whole picture and putting it back together wrong and then having to do it again and again, until at some point the switch goes off in my head and Oh, now I see! All this takes a heavy toll on my confidence! I don't have the confidence that others have and am hesitant to jump into a large project on my own. This is important to me because I am considering and planning a large project.  Probably the largest project of my life other than going back to school and earning my aviation maintenance licenses! That was a project I could attempt because it was already set up, structured in a community college setting.  That was a huge undertaking for me, going back to school and it started shortly after I got cleaned up. I have issues around school from the past, but those melted away, but not at first. With my aviation licenses I really wanted them. I wasn't apparently going to let anything stand in my way. When I was in my second year, my truck was stolen and I got on the bicycle and started riding to school being about 3 miles away and work about 4 miles. I was going to school and working like so many of my peers and at 48 years old. See how I got distracted by that and wandered off. That happens all the time.



It is similar today and although I have been able to identify my behavior challenges, I still practice the wrong ones. When I worked on the line on airplanes others could see some of my challenges and gave me jobs that didn't require to much visualization.

But what I am talking about here. What indeed, ramblings. I got back here after reading about Neil Young's latest Album a 2 CD set in the Rolling Stone #1169. The title is Fuzz and Fury on Planet Neil. In the article Neil says he writes songs "to make sense of my inner rage." This simple statement struck a chord with me. My inner anger is deep seated and as I stated before somewhere, may have actually published it here. I have always had an affinity for Neil and will probably purchase something of this latest two albums since they were done with his often used band Crazy Horse. I am wrapping this up because I can always add, but I must move it along. I have several drafts that I keep getting distracted away from and the words keep coming. I need to do tasks in the real world with one of my pals.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

trying to get the full and complete picture or the whole ball of wax!

 It is Sunday morning and I have been listening to and viewing You Tube video's from Carl Perkins 25 year reunion with friends to Johnny Cash that was shown on BBC 2004, wow!

What do I have in common with musicians other than being human beings and having a set number of days from birth to death. I look at where I have been in confusion all my life, up to and including now. The past was always confusion and I had no idea really of the complete picture. I had glimpses of being 70 years old and flashing back and forth from then to the past in my 20's. I often felt I was telling someone the story of my life and my reality was 70 and the past was like a dream. My past was a dream and a nightmare.

I struggled just like many young people struggle and I didn't find the key to the complete picture until I stepped into the idea that I could get an idea and follow it. The idea was to appreciate what I have now and how to be grateful, to turn away from the negative impulses I had been living with for so long. Each of us must find balance and it takes some of us longer than others, that's for sure. I am still out of balance but a lot closer to feeling equal with all part of my personality and parts of my life. I am still living in confusion and chaos, because it just doesn't go away. I have learned I can take other actions than the out of balance ones.

I don't warm up to everyone and they don't warm up to me, but I am still pursuing the notion that I was taught long ago by my parents, not to judge a book by it's cover. I am doing that by pushing against the expected societal norms with the initial actions that I used long, long ago. I am growing my hair, now for a little over 3 years, from a very short buzz cut to now much longer. I was imagining growing it for 5 years. Often in the past someone would say something to me and I would get pissed off. Someone would say you are a throw back to the past with that long hair and I would resort to self destructive behavior and cut my hair thinking I would show them, but that would only affect me deeply. That impulsive behavior was often my down fall.

I have learned now after driving a school bus for 5 + years to temper my impulsive nature a little. I have been learning through this important driving that which is associated with getting some patience. I believe that patience is a quality that is talked about in our society, but is not given that much weight. We are living and have been living in a society that tells us quick, quick, hurry up and you can have it now. It is a societal norm, but a false image that has lead many of us down the wrong path. It has taken me a long time to figure out what I want to do with my life. It has taken me many inventories and assessments of what have I done the most of in my life. The answer has been to write. I have done writing the most of anything. I discovered this a couple of years ago, but have not been able to organize my writing to any great extent. I was thinking this morning again what I need more to do is transcribe my past writings and put them into the electronic media and go from there. This is almost more of my journal of what I want to do, but it is all connected.

All of this is  part of my inability to stay focused on my own time. That time without the structure of a project that has an important role in my life. I am planning a large project, but have some smaller ones that have lost my attention and I need to get back on track. And so it goes. I am nearing that time when I may live to 70 years of age. Just 8 years away and what will I have accomplished? That is a question many of us ask ourselves as we come closer to the ends of our lives than the beginnings.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

I will admit here some of my true feelings...and what I am working on with my personality etc..

Feelings are just to personal to admit many of them to unknown people who might be reading my blogging. Although I admit to having feelings, I don't want to say to much about the ones I have. I am trying to find words to admit to my feelings of wanting companionship. I get crushes on different women, but the problem with those crushes is who I get crushes on. Usually women who are unavailable in one form or another. And this I see as a pattern of behavior on my part. It is either women who are unavailable or women who I thought I could influence to change just a little to better suit me. This is one of my oldest issues I think and spitting it out here, might help me with it.

I identified it many years ago, but allowed other distractions to keep me plodding along that same path of dysfunction. It is dysfunction to imagine finding a partner which is to good to be true etc. For instance I moved to Portland after having looked up an ex-girlfriend from the past and reconnecting with her. I thought we could take a stab at becoming friends since our relationship in the past was very physical and short lived, but it didn't work out for various reasons which I am not going to go into. It was as much my issues as it was hers. I will only take about 50% of the blame for that. And that is growth because I used to say break ups were all my fault having a guilt/martyr personality brought on by years of abuse by others and self abuse with drugs including alcohol.

Having crushes on people is not necessarily a bad thing. It is what we do with them that makes it or breaks it so to speak. I had a crush on a woman who has actually been one of my long time friends. She told me so long ago that she wasn't looking to date me when I had misread that about her.


It is tough being a loner and I have been one most of my life. I have had some relationships, some good some not so good. I am not out there trying to find any more from the past, although, one woman contacted me a couple of years ago and broke my heart pretty badly. It took me about 2 years to figure out what really happened and all the while not blaming either of us for what took place. My feelings around that have changed. My feelings are that she was revisiting me because we had known each other 20 odd years about and been attracted, and I made an impression on her but she was in a relationship at the time and couldn't pursue me. And my theory is 20 years later, she is developing another relationship with someone else and it looks like they are going to be life long partners and she wants to see what it would have been life with me before following through with the other person. I am thinking I was like her little fling before her marriage kind of deal. And that's about what it was. She completely fooled me into deluded thinking by taking advantage of her knowledge of human nature of men and I saw red flags and ignored them.  This is all my own conjecture because she would never talk to me about it. She dropped me like a hot rock into a cold pond and the shock! I struggled with my own strong feelings for that that two years.

I am now healed, but also know of my desires and have to watch out for how I feel. Guarded. This is what happens to many of us who have been hurt. But they say, that we must risk all for love and be willing to and know that balance is always going to take place. The greatest of loves often brings us to the greatest of pain. We can endure it and learn from it to as I have. I have learned a lot more, but I still get crushes. I am writing about them now because I wish not to act on another crush with anyone who is not willing to be honest about their feelings too. I am trying to curb my actions about chasing unavailable women with my writing of this. It is primarily for me, but exposing it to whomever is somewhat cathartic for me and really enhances my belief that I can not act on feelings I might have in the form of crushes.

Finally,  i am distracted regularly. But it is not by relationships or crushes, it is because of who I am and how I think. I was tested for this because it was a problem for me when I was working on airplanes back then 10 years ago. However, I do want to mention there has been woman who I met about 2.5 years ago in front of the house in N. Portland who I got to talking with back then. I got her phone number and called her a couple of times and she was interested in doing anything on a social thing. Then about a year ago, she friended me or I her on Face book. That was all Ok, but she didn't post much, but looked at my pages regularly. Then when I had my accident in Dec. of last year, she was right there, giving me a ride out of nowhere it seemed and was offering to take me places. When I took the ride from her, I had my whole right leg in a plastic splint and leaned over towards her and made a Jeffrey comment such as "uh oh, got to put my head in your lap to get in the truck" and that just freaked her out, thought she was going to leave me there in the rain! I tried to say I was just kidding around. She was fragile and because of it somewhat skittish. That was a red flag for me and I didn't call her for any rides even though she offered. I kept to myself because she kind of freaked me out. We texted and sent messages on FaceBook but that was the extent of it for months, but at some point I figured out she was not healthy and I needed to let it go. In late Aug. after not contacting her at all she called me on the phone and asked to borrow $50.00 because she had an issue and screwed it up. I said that she probably could use $100 and arranged to loan it to her for a week. We met in NE Portland and she was exclaiming how she had a revelation when her cat died. She was dressed up all in a skirt and tank top which was completely different from anything I'd ever seen her wear. We had tea not far from her apartment and then she invited me over and inside and was very hospitable. I gave her the money and she was talking about having me over more etc. I was thinking something isn't right here. I told her I knew she was busy and left, but not before she had suggested giving me a key, which really threw up flags and suggesting I come over when she wasn't there etc. She also told me some other things and I left thinking well maybe she has changed or she has split personality disorder. That is more likely the case. I have been with someone who has split personality disorder and this person was acting close to that other person so long ago. The week went by with her texting me from work etc. She had already in the past told me not to text her at work, but she was initiating it and so I did. Finally, about 1 day before she was to pay me back, she texted me and said she was upset with me for violating her space at work by texting her. When we agreed to meet, I set it up for a park and she brought me the money and I asked her if she was throwing me under the bus and she exclaimed I had been doing just that to her all week. And she told me how upset she was, how she had been abused enough by others and was not taking it from me, gave a hug and left. Holy Shit! The bomb went off and I knew, I was not going to make an effort to contact her again ever. I deleted her phone # from my phone and any record of it. I then unfriended her on Face Book. It took about a month before she contacted me having noticed she couldn't read my pages anymore asked me if I unfriended her on face book as though nothing had happened before. I wrote her back and said yes and said even though we had both tried to establish a friendship, it was not working.

I told her we are both good people but being friends with her was not going to happen. I think I handled it pretty well and that is likely what lead me to write all this because I finally making sense of my life after living for 62 years. I still can't believe it! 62, bouncing between that age and probably about 32 in my head and heart. Much of what I thought aging was about  didn't really start to gel until this year. Aging and age are not as important as some other aspects of being human. So, crushes on women, I probably still get them but my age and experiences are starting to weigh in on how I act around them.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

My system is once again corrupted, I did it myself, confusing, like stabbing myself in the foot!


this piece is from my original Journal Space blog back in the day.

"Well, how do you suppose this self preoccupied state of being came about? And how do we tactfully bring it to others attention? My answer is that we can lead by our actions. The United Way and another group have been broadcasting public service announcements recently on adults teaching children things like counting, how things work while driving in their cars for instance and then someone will cut them off and out comes some yelling. The message is that children are always learning and adults are always tea ˇching whether we are aware of it or not. People have learned behaviors and it is our responsibility to continue to learn or fall into regression."

It reminded me of something I see regularly that disturbs me. I drive by a preschool quite regularly. It is on a busy street near where I live and in the middle of the block between to traffic light controlled intersections with crosswalks. When adults are dropping off children I observe them regularly crossing directly opposite the preschool, from between cars, holding the hand of the child, sometimes darting across oncoming traffic.

What are they thinking? It takes to much time to walk down the street 100 feet to the controlled intersection, press the button, wait the 60 seconds at the most for the signal to change, cross the street, walk an additional 100 feet to the preschool and all the while this would implant a strong message to the child, a learned behavior to cross safely. Of course, that is not all of it, the adult would then have to walk back to the signal, wait another 60 seconds, cross the street and walk another hundred feet to their car. I suppose that less than 5 minutes they save is a considerable time saver for them.

On the other hand, let's cross without the advantage of the crosswalk. Most of the people driving down the street are in a hurry, because they are going to work or they have many important things to do that day and they could be trying to save time by talking on their cell phone or making an arrangement for something else, some impo rtant activity that needs to be planned with the time they are saving, the wasted time of driving.

Teleportation would be to good for us, think of all the time we could save between destinations or the time lost for planning important activities.

So, what happens with all these people saving time?

What happens is that the law of averages will catch up to someone sooner or later and a tragic, avoidable accident will happen. Someone will accidentally hit one of these, time saving adults, who is  quite possibly holding the hand of a loved child and no one will save time. Everyone will lose some time and something else.

 Someone will call paramedics, the fire dept., the police. All activity in the vicinity will come to a standstill, and even then it will seem like time is lost -or some how bent badly out of shape, except for those directly involved. Adults will be asking how could this have happened, several people will lay blame on the driver who after all was saving time while driving. Maybe someone will get it and discover that all of us need to stop blaming and take responsibility?

It is my intention to bring this issue to the attention of the preschool so that they can bring it to the attention of the adults that the little time they are saving could be costing someone's life in the future.

Don’t picture me a saint. It took me quite a long process to figure out what I could do to influence these other people without alienating them. At first when I observed it happening, I thought what is wrong with these people? They are putting their children at risk, for what, 2 m òinutes, 5 minutes? What Idiots! That was my thinking. How many times did I have to think What Idiots before changing my own behavior? I don’t know, but I stop at a store 1  block from this preschool often and make a point now of going to the signal and crossing. I’ve gone as far as timing the distance to the signal, to the store and back to my vehicle and therefore know the length of time is insignificant. There is no excuse for not changing our behavior when our behavior puts others  or ourselves in jeopardy.

If I blurted out to them while holding the hand of an impressionable child “What is wrong with you, putting your child at risk crossing the street unprotected?” That would be exactly what they are saying in the United Way Public Service Announcement. That our children are learning from us all the time and not only would they learn to cross the street unprotected, but they would learn from me to to a Élienate others by being loud and abrasive.

That is behavior that I  used for many years to do exactly that, keep people away from me. I have been consciously making small changes in my thought processes for 20 years now.

You may think, only 20 years? Where have you been? I’ve been to hell, lived there for while and I don’t want to go back. This is why it has taken me so long to get where I am mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

My downward spiral took years and once I was started I had tunnel vision, no one could grasp how bent on self destruction I was, not even myself, I was the worst. The lies I told, well I was the biggest believer. Most people could see through my lies rather quickly, but nothing could be proved since I refused to admit anything. The lies I told myself started out innocently  enough and they compounded so often and so long that I created my own reality which had little to do with my surroundings.

I’m  not going any deeper with this now. I’ve been and I’m where am now. I am not saying I’m back, because I’m not sure I was ever here in the first place.

So, I cross at crosswalks when available.  I stop for pedestrians at crosswalks, and slow down for ones who are crossing streets regardless so that I have better chance of stopping if for some reason they don’t see me coming, maybe they are looking at the speeding car and not seeing me. I actually had windows open the other day driving slowly up the main thorough fare of the neighboring city and some people were about 40 feet from the crosswalk, traffic was dense and slow and as I passed them I called out, not exactly a shout, quieter than that, “why don’t you use the crosswalk?” and as I looked in my mirror, they stepped back onto the sidewalk and headed that 20 feet to cross. I know that is not the way to effect change, but and it did work momentarily.

Another subject/topic:

This is about myself, my challenge with the way I think that has been labeled as ADD/ADHD.  I have known there is a name for the way I  think for about 5 years. I discovered it in October 2000 while visiting my sister in Florida. I wonder how much longer it would have taken had I not gone there and picked up that book that I saw on her coffee table? How much longer would I have cart wheeled through life, continually in a state of spin, confusion and chaos and not even aware that there were others like me, because I was unaware. Discovery, awareness, acceptance,  don’t know the exact order that these things have been taking a hold of me, that I have learned and held onto the words and the meanings, but this is where I am with it now. I consider myself in a constant flux, with one foot in my old world and the other in my new world of self discovery. I have worked through much, worked through old wounds created by my old behavior of keeping other away from me. I figured out long ago that I wasn’t tough, so my defense became insanity. Convince those around me that I was crazy and that worked. Those who thought they could take advantage of me soon realized that I was crazy and should be left alone. If they attempted to interact, they soon found out that I was dangerous and maybe they were mistaken. Of course, to not lose face, they had to reinforce my behavior and shout loudly that I was crazy, or something similar.

The thing that happens because of my thinking patterns is not only is it a deficit, but there are several elements that are not mentioned in my challenged thinking patterns. Not only am I challenged by my lack of focus, but I am challenged by my intense focusing and my inability to organize my thoughts and prioritize. I am slowing learning to identify my behaviors and am slowly retraining my brain.

I can see now, right here that it is time to stop. My focus is turning to someplace else, inward and I don’t want to continue to whip that dead horse. :-)

Friday, September 14, 2012

Chapter 396 the ever continuing quest for understanding myself...

How long have I traveled down this path, way past understanding what the age of consent is? I never consented to much of anything when I was growing up. Rehashing the same old misunderstandings is what much of my life has been about, discovering just who I am and what I am about. Still searching for what it is that I think my purpose on the planet is. I've found a new goal, a new challenge and I am working towards it. Maybe my place on the planet is what I am now working towards, maybe it has been what I am supposed to be about all along and it has taken me this long to get to this point. That is true, it has taken me this long to get to this point in time.

I thought I knew some things back in time, but even though I did, I have forgotten them now. That is just another way of saying what Bob Dylan said long ago: "Ah but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now." Of course, I didn't really know what that meant and I am shocked that he could write that at his young age and know what it meant.

I've never known much of anything if anyone asked me. I often said I don't know, not knowing the right answer or not understanding what the question meant, I had learned early in my age to not ask questions as a self defense mechanism because when I asked people would misunderstand and I would be ridiculed, laughed at or just plain dismissed! I have never or rarely been able to organize my thoughts, which is why I started writing my thoughts as a teen. I couldn't remember from one moment tot he next what I had been thinking about and never could form a question as to why that was, because the questions would disappear from my focus faster than the blink of an eye as they say.

Not all of this is stream of conscious writing because I have been reading what I wrote and that takes some thought. But, some of what I read had to be added to and expanded and some of that was stream of conscious. Some of it wasn't. I may at some point become the writer I imagine myself to be or then again, what did I just say?


I have done a lot of things in my life, some good some not so good, but I have done one thing all along, I have survived. My conscious contribution to that survival has been somewhat mixed. There were about 2 decades I was on a self destructive bent knowing no way to stop the frustration and anger that had built up in me from my childhood! What an upper middle class kid who could have so much had anger and frustration? Must just be a spoiled brat who didn't know the meaning of privilege. Of course I didn't and more than that, had no idea of who I was or how I got there or really what life was about. My sense of self was missing. I can't even describe what it was like at this time, but I intend to and have somewhere in the past.

People are often frustrated with me, because they can't really put themselves in my shoes. My own younger sister although from the same parents has a much better handle on life than I do. She is leaps and bounds ahead of me in so many areas. Yet she is also a survivor.


The survivor instinct, the traits that cause one to push ahead are strong in me still. The hunter/gatherer parts are strong too. I have been only knowing about these parts of my make up now for about 3 years and accept them. I accept that I can not recall what happened yesterday in detail or what happened from moment to moment. I am in the moment and perhaps that is why I chose this as the Title of my blog. I recognize my in the moment attitude. It is what makes me an excellant heavy vehicle driver full of kids or young adults or even adults, because when I am driving that vehicle that is where I am. I am right there in the moment using the tools and resources I have, my inherited traits to do the job well.

Moments are why I have never followed through with jobs, careers, hobbies etc. I am typical as far as attention deficit explanations go for keeping jobs. Chances are I won't be able to finish my thoughts here either. This is just a moment and it will be lost to me. I am already losing track of my initial thoughts for writing today. And with that, I will leave it here.

Monday, September 3, 2012

Chapter 397 today 9-3-2012 What is Real?

I have gone to the face book page to download my data. They say it takes time, didn't say how much time. I have photo's that I have no copies of because I took some of them with a camera that I no longer have and they went into files that I foolishly didn't back up in a computer that broke. What is real?

I then thought, Oh Flicker, that will be a file I could use and then got to thinking, thinking.

Our whole world, except for our physical world is digital. Digital is a reality that is generated by electronics and pixels and electrons, by energy we all used that has been changed from fossil fuels, water, solar and wind power in some cases. From the physics I learned in aviation maintenance I learned energy is neither created or destroyed, it only changes from one form to another. The rolling motion of a car comes from energy that is produced by the burning of fossil fuels by combustion. That combustion creates heat which produces work that pushes on pistons that turn shafts and gears and wheels. When we put on the brakes the wheels slow and that energy is converted back to heat and moves into the surrounding air and through the tires into the ground and pavement.

What the heck?! Why am I moving from one subject to another? I am working into my point of writing this entry, that is the answer.

My point is that the only real in our lives is our immediate physical presence. Those that know are saying that it is all disappearing, going into the network. There is no real except the ground we stand on when we are standing on it, but when we are not standing on it, does it exist? What is real and what is not? What does it matter if it is real or not? We only have temporary existences and we can't take it with us, come into the world with nothing and leave that way too. What is Real?

We have the Federal Reserve Bank which is not a part of the Federal Government. The FDB prints our money, controls the interest rates, and backs up the other banks. What is Real? Many of us are paid with electronic money and only get money when we go to a non human that spits money out a slot when we put in electronic data telling the computer it will link to our account in another computer network. What is real?

I think about my reality at times. A lot is happening at this point in time. I am moving, going through my material things and deciding what to keep and what to toss. I have been carting around a dresser for 40 or so years that I got from my dad's house down in CA. He got it when he bought the house. I am going to give it to Goodwill because they are just down the street. Where I am moving to has a dresser already in place, one that seems to be much nicer furniture and when move to the next after this living situation, I won't be having a dresser at all. What is real? I am looking around my living space a hole in the ground and reflecting, thinking about how it won't be real for me after the 30th of this month. I won't have to walk down the 9 short steep stairs or up them several times a day risking slipping or toe over or tripping on them ever again when I ascend and descend them. They will be in the past and to me their energy will have changed to a two dimensional thought that is waning from my own reality.

My reality is changing. Work is looming day after tomorrow, starting back up in the middle of the week is good for me having been off steady work for 2.5 months. Wow the past, how is that real? The past is energy that has changed form.

So, back to the present. My shelving that I purchased when I first moved to Portland that I used in a storage because I had to much stuff is going. I don't need it and it has served me well. I intend to mention to friends that might need it that it is becoming available. I am not ready to give up my bent wood chair that I scavenged from Oakland CA. What can I keep, what must go? What is real?

This medium here won't exist to me when I close it. It will go to the network data base and may or may not come back when I log back on. Who has a record of what is and what isn't real?


Friday, August 31, 2012

398, of course my way of keeping track is confusing!

What is the date? 8/30/2012

Order, there is only chaos and confusion, no order! Bits and pieces, house guests. I don't think they know I don't have my own bathroom. If I had a house with a situation such as this, I would have at least installed a toilet in the basement. Here I am not covered as a tenant, I have no rights except, shut up and pay the rent, pay your  share of the utilities and 1/2 of the utilities of my house guests! I haven't figured out how to subtract what they use. Would it be safe to subtract 1or 2 days from the utilities to make up for his guests? I've considered that. I have to go and research these issues. I just feel used, violated and without rights.



I feel trapped in my basement room. I feel violated, like when my van was stolen. My privacy has been compromised by my landlord. This is why tenants rights groups formed, because landlords feel all the rights belong to them, they own it, they built it! I'm not sure if it is safe to even write about my feelings. My landlord told me last night that he is having yet another house guest. He doesn't tell me for how long, just that a friend of his is coming to spend the night. I feel trapped. His house guests have privileges that   leave me in a bad space. I don't know, but suspect he tells them to help themselves to whatever. I am uncomfortable and suspect I will have to look for a form of a rental agreement that gives me some specific rights.

Well, his guest comes and there are 3 of them, an adult and two older children. I am feeling frustrated because my whole routine is disrupted by his guests. 1 bathroom house, which really doesn't support 4 people well.

And then there is the use of the utilities, the sharing of food which I don't normally do. What does he tell them, help yourself to anything you want? And this after that BBQ he had just this last weekend. This guy reminds me of a Politician which is scary to me. Of course I have to put up or shut up.

Someone has been taking a shower now for 10 minutes which I find to be rather long and disturbing because I have things to do including taking a shower, use the toilet and this is just one person so far. It is almost 9:00 am and now I am on their schedule. My bad! I should have done what I had to do before they got up and left the house, because it is so uncomfortable to me! My privacy is invaded by people I don't know, who don't know me. Just as I am getting ready to go upstair and check it out, the one person gets out of the shower, another person goes in. I am stuck, being held hostage in the place I pay rent to. The second person has been in the shower for 15 minutes. 15 minutes in my time line is how much time it takes me to shower, dress, eat and leave. Now I am trapped.

I'm sure it would not be real to ask my land lord to tell his guests that I have rights, it would be unheard of for him to put them second or even me on an equal plain with them. These are his old friends that he is doing a favor for and they are like family to him. Family runs deep with all of us, but with him it is like, don't mess with my family, food or property. A Republican in Democrats clothing!

I just had to vent this, feeling really put out. My sister suggested back several months ago I draw up a rental agreement with my landlord. I suggested it to him and he just doesn't think that it is important. From my stand point, this is his house and he does what he wants, but really doesn't know how to or what is fair to his tenant or doesn't care!


Wednesday, August 29, 2012

404 as I walk back wards I face forwards

Webster's Dictionary defines what insurance is intended to be, but leaves the door open for the insurance company to modify what it is exactly that they do. Now a days they certainly fill every loop hole so that the insurance you purchase from them is little more than a payment for them to find additional ways for them not to pay you if you file a claim. Insurance to me is like paying rent. You pay them money and when you need something extra, they claim that is not in the contract or they don't have the money. It is all a racket, I know this because my father worked for an insurance company. He was a statistician/secretary-treasurer of a small company that insured doctors and would tell the family often how disgusted he was at the rip off of clients by the company he worked for. That is a pretty narrow view, but I trusted my dad on some things and this was one of them. It has stuck with me from that time on.

5-20-2004

I'm working at FedEx at Oakland Airport Hub. I get up at about 1:30am and get ready for work. I am listening to KPFA and they are playing the blues, Jimi Hendrix or Buddy Guy- Red House.

I took on two more jobs at Dream Builders yesterday, the forklift and pruning the bushes at another property in West Oakland. I pruned these bushes before, but not to the foreman#1's liking. Apparently I cut them back to sharply. I talked to  foreman #2 about it and then to foreman #1 who said he didn't have time to do the job. Foreman #1 has a lot of experience with plants. So we talked about what I should do and I think I now know more of what he wants and then foreman #1 says, if there is any more problems, they will grow back. It is like hair, the growth will help cover up the mistakes. We all have different levels of acceptance.

Foreman #1 and I like each other and have a better understanding of where each of us is coming from. He was in the hospital some years before and that is when we actually talked about our perceptions. He admitted to me he thought that I was judging him. I thought that was way off base and told him. It was about sobriety. After that we also had another talk and got to know each other better. Part of my problem is low self esteem and stunted social growth do to my alcoholism. He had problems with alcohol to and I had a program and he didn't. He thought I was watching him waiting for a bad move. In that talk we had I told him, I was having enough problems with myself to worry about what he was doing! After that the fear we each had of each other we got along pretty darn well.

This Sat. Malcolm X Festival at San Antonio Part. It was a mixed announcement and I didin't hear it  all.  I should check further into it. Still listening to KPFA and I really like this station. Most of the people working there are volunteers. Volunteerism is really what saves this country, a bunch of people pitching in to fulfill a common need.


Life, what an experience. Sometimes I feel so alone, but I am not, there are millions of human beings all around. We are connected by our experiences. Life is an incredible experience and I am lucky and blessed to be alive! So many things becoming clear to me. One of those is my mortality and as human beings we get hung up in our day to day lives and forget how precious our whole experience is!

{That's it all I have time for this evening. Another installment will happen soon}

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

403 as the future looms, the past beckons!

Continuing onward from 2003-2004 my 54th year. Numerically it is all linked, addition or subtraction. How hard is that to put our minds around. 

The stiffness in my hands and fingers, the stiffness with the lack of getting out and lightening up, my diet. 

Diet is a big buzzword in our society and seem s to have taken on a new leap into acceptance this year. Many of us baby boomers have turned 50 by now, some closer to 60 than others. 

What really got my attention yesterday was the moment and I went to get the new stereo that I had decided to purchase, I could see it well. I doesn't matter what you have, because weh it is your time to die, you are not taking spit with you.  We will leave our bodies and we don't know what comes next if anything. I tend to have different experiences with what I think comes next, first one idea then when that seems far fetched another and nothing comes next. 

Yes, age  is catching up to me.

I have been going to KPF in the mornings answering the phones during their fund drives. I remember when my father pledged to KQED back in the 1950's. He pledged $5 and got a mink skinned hat and gave it to me. Of course, all my friends at the time had coon skin hats and when I got mink it was difficult to fit in. My mink skin hat was my favorite pet, even though it was dead and had no soul or life. I have a rabbit skin I purchased and use it to help me sleep in the day time because of my late night job at FedEx. I put that rabbit pelt on my face and it is warm and comforting. I think of the rabbit that once occupied this skin and fur and with that is a certain sadness that animals have to die for some humans. We shouldn't be killing animals or treating them badly! Of course, that is somewhat off the path of the subject of KPFA and donating time and energy to the radio station because they are an active part of the community keeping the airwaves open and not taking corporate sponsorship which can deaden the truth. That small experience with KQED was never understood by me. I didn't really understand much about society since I was continually battling against my own feelings leaving me in a chaotic state most of the time. 

I am getting ready for my work week. Had the last two Fridays off. Wow, that was something! The extra time off gave me the rest I needed and still feel I need. 

I've got an application for New United Motors down in Fremont. I've had some trouble with some of waht they want me to sign off on. They ask for my age and something else that will come to me later. It irritates me taht I have to check up on a company that I am considering working for. Are they violating my basic rights? Carla, my downstairs neighbor says that the reason she doesn't get he teaching jobs she applies for is ageism. I believe it is definitately true for some jobs and not others. I say that the schools that pass her over are missing out on an artist who has been working at her art her whole life and is going to miss that part of her experiences to pass along to other aspiring artists. I can now see how much of a problem it is ageism and how much it affects our culture, how we turn away from those that came before us looking for newer and less experienced so what, we can mold them into what society thinks their roles should be? It sucks. 

The other part of the application that I couldn't remember is they ask an applicant to allow by signing  to give full disclosure from the previous employers how many absent days they have had. Of course, it doesn't distinguish between legitimate days off and phony days off. These are the kinds of abuses that corporations like to be allowed to do. They don't want some government agency telling them what kind of information they can ask of their prospects. Some of it violates our rights and shouldn't be allowed. 

Off onto my life's challenge of ADHD. It is like cases of other known issues different for each individual. Look at me for instance, I didn't get myself tested until I was 50 years old. I noticed issues with work at UAL that I was having trouble understanding some basic mechanical explanations for the way parts went together. I needed answers and at the time it was job related and I wanted to do my job the best I could. I had never been able to put a name on what it is that makes me the way I am. I had never been able to and of course, it has been difficult to let others in on my secret and get them to even consider that there is a reason for my behavior. They just seemed to continue to treat me as a weird individual or continue to thnk of me as should behave like others or themselves. They are unable to put on my shoes and see life from my perspective, yet they want me to do that for them. Double standard is the way it has always been concerning my issues and conformity. Imagine what my world is like, continuing chaos and confusion. That what it is like, not being able to organize my thoughts into a meaningful plan that I can follow. It is part of why I had so much trouble in school. And if it seems like i keep repeating myself, it is because I do repeat myself. I often have little knowledge of what I say, my ability to put any order of what I said in my own head gets lost inside and I can't retrieve it most of the time, hence Chaos and Confusion. No, I am not deaf, blind our unable to speak, but my communication skills have been limited. I am not physically challenged and have been able to pass minimal testing sometimes even better than non standardized situations. Structures work well for me to a point. The free thinking or non structured environment is my downfall. 





Chapter 399

I have just come to the idea of how I am separating my current writings from my past writings that I am editing and copying to blogger. I started at chapter 400 and have been adding up for writings I am adding from the past and now am writing something from the present and just came to think I would subtract from Chapter 400 one at a time for current entries. If this makes no sense to you that is ok.  you might think "Why in the Hell would anyone do such a silly thing?" Well, it is how I go. It is about discovery. Are we explorers and leaders or are we all going to go along with an established routine that is predictable and boring? Of course as time passes, I may discover another way to do this and make the changes. After all, I am at the sink where this drip continues through the moments.I may find a washer and replace it or just let the water drip, drip, drip into a receptacle that drains into the garden, cistern is what they are called.

Part of my challenges with organization comes from the way I think. I have been working on understanding and incorporating my process of thinking and actions with introspection and have come to the conclusion that I don't need to do it as others do, but need to do all things the way they work for me. This is not to say, I will not adhere to structures already set up such as laws of the land or laws of the road or working situations and standards. How I do things has matured with my age.

When I do actions that involve others I can adhere and must adhere to the rules and laws that control my actions and those of others. When I drive my bus, I follow a route with times and turns and pick ups and drop off's and must, to complete the job in an orderly way, consistently and I do it well. I am just saying, if I am writing or thinking about something that affects only me or you may interact with me through reading what I write,  then it is because of the way I think that I am writing in a rather confusing way.  You the reader are either going to find a way to read it and it is my hope I can convey what I mean in such a way that will keep you interested or you are going to say, Forget this person, I can't follow that line or his line of that confusion.

But it is this confusion that I have been living with all my life and the attempts to organize my thoughts have fallen each and every time, so I have worked hard at allowing myself my own thought patterns and conforming to established patterns when dealing with others.

I have read some about writing and something that I am unable to do it put the whole writing effort together in my head and then put it into the medium. I write stream of consciousness for the most part, but have discovered that when I am copying my past writings, editing to make more sense.

When I was trying to quit smoking so long ago I kept changing brands, smoking, not smoking changing brands etc. Now, I am trying to continue to drink coffee, which btw I quit all caffeine in 1992-1998 six years. I like coffee, but am having issues with it being satisfying. I have tried coffees away from home that are satisfying me. So what is up with me and coffee? I like it, but my body is changing and I am not getting the same satisfaction. I am not getting a caffeine kick, and the coffee I keep changing and trying is not giving me the same satisfaction. I think I am going to have to quit drinking coffee and I am fighting against what my body is telling me. It this is the case, then I am going to have to find a different place to put my energy or focus more on where I get my energy from which is not from drinks. When I quit drinking caffeine back in 1992 it was a willing decision to see how I felt decaffeinated. I liked how I felt. I never went back to drinking anything but coffee. No sodas! So, here I am today, the 28th of Aug. reflecting on this past summer and what my plans were and how they have either come about or have not yet been realized. One thing for sure though, the cycle of work and school is just about started and I will be on someone else's time schedule. I have adapted to it before and will do so again, though this time I am feeling a little different about it.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Chapter 402, Me and Em!

{still 2004}

I'm getting older and his is the way my life has gone. I am putting it down into words because it has been hard for me most of my life to communicate in the usual accepted forms of communication. At 53 going on 54 the end of this month, the 31st. Being born nearly exactly in the middle of the century has had it's good and bad points and living as I do, on the edge of society in most of my life. As I age, which was where I started with this page, I do it slowly. I've aged very slowly because society has always misunderstood my behavior and instead of going for the best in me, they have always kept me in the worst light. {now 2012 as I copy this, maybe I am wrong here, maybe it was I all along who felt out of place, who never felt accepted, never felt as though I have belonged in the past I suffered from very low self esteem}

I can see how misunderstood many of us are and I feel for them too. I feel that we as a society really fail our peers. We put them into categories to make them easier to think about, that is the ones who aren't  in the main stream except to say they have challenges that are not adequately addressed by this society. Until we start putting the emphasis on our social concerns we will always have unaddressed large-scale welfare issues.

The early morning gave me the impression that it is going to rain today. It is way warmer than the arctic   chill that we were putting up with yesterday. I was agitated as I made my way out on my errands. The number of people seemed like they were all trying to cram a lot of living into a couple of short cloudy days trying to put off the inevitable coing of the next work week. Of course the work week has it's pluses in that we can think of an escape because we certainly don't want to think about all the social injustices except whether Bill Gates is making another billion dollars or why he doesn't fund the war in Iraq that our president dragged us into because of that false representation of the facts of the matters. Fear, that is what our society is running on and sooner or later that fear is going to mature into something really bad! Then all those who are worrying about the future and trying not to think about the present will realize their own worst nightmares.

So what did we get? My dad, my aging, society, fear and undisciplined writing style. It seem sto follow me since my whole life has been rather undisciplined. My focus waxes and wanes like the ever changing moon. My main point of existence is about getting closer to nature in the Bay Area. I am considering buying a boat and living on it as a sneak aboard at Berkeley Marina. Also, getting a job that pays a living wage, something that will keep me from being to stressed out trying to make ends meet.

Chapter 401 The Past As Seen From the Present and other such nonsense

9:42 pm October 12, 1987

the Thunder is Clattering in the distance and echoing off the buildings. I can see stars from my porch and some fog.

The air is real still and it will probably rain.


undated, but probably early 2009

A Lightening Bolt of Love, here, then gone in an instant!

U told me I've always had strength. I'm finding it now because I need it.

I need to be strong to ride on top of my feelings, our feeling come......

Writing has almost always been a release. Writing, journalling has always allowed me to be buoyant and rise about the process and release my apprehensions I might feel. Right now, this moment in time, this small pin head of time that folds and stretches out for us but is not even a speck of dust in the big picture is very uncomfortable.

It is uncomfortable because the feelings we shared, the distance is in real time. I know something of the way I'm feeling. You have told me many words, ideas validated my feelings telling me you feel similarly and to have struggled with how you feel. Now Creator and some time has allowed our feelings to seek their own level of strength, find a niche to live in. They are still here in us, but not all on the surface like they were for 30 days. We know they are there, they feel apart of us.

Lover, together we have walked through doorways that previously have been closed. I find an incredible challenge dealing with.....


You may feel a larger bunch of feelings that are overwhelming. You have opened a door to me and told me about the courage you believe I have. You have encouraged me to express to you all that I am feeling. Sometimes words are not accurate. I mean you no harm, or disrespect. You have revealed more of yourself to me and I am grateful that you have. You told me all the feelings we have expressed are real. I am glad of that because I am feeling a little confused by our downturn of communication. I know that you don't have the technology available to you and I do. I suspect you may have reached a point where you are over loaded with your emotional and physical pain, have had to take a step back. I have done this to hoping to let time percolate feelings the way it does.

We can go beyond what our past barriers were. What we think as our limitations will fall to the side. I can feel that now. I will be patient, you have told me I am and I know I am with others more than myself.

Life is easier when I have a structure, a foundation that I have been building that I can rely on. The trick of life is not to lose sight of the big picture. We each face different challenges. We have what we have got. What has brought us to where we are. For me it is that connection I feel with a source of the greater good, that powerful energy that connects all life on this planet and perhaps beyond.

Miscellaneous Chaos {part of the deception}

01-30-2006

{11 months before I leave for Portland. I don't think I know I am leaving yet because I have left work, to take a test at SBC for work. If I get the work, not going to leave. Hind sights..}

Waiting in the SBC staffing center to take the test. I should have left work earlier. Here 15 minutes early, but we are waiting. I paid $8 for parking up Webster @ Douglas Parking Lot. $8 a day, $40 a week or $160 a month. They must get some kind of break for signing up for a month at a time.

12:21 and no one but test participants in sight. I wish I had eaten lunch, it may have helped quell my nervousness. It was easy to get in, don't sweat it another first. Chris says he didn't pass the first time. All I can do is the best I can. Would make a nice Birthday gift though. I am attempting to stay calm, gazing at my P&W hat with the 2 UAL pins, Otis pin and no nuke pin on it. I'm 56 tomorrow and attempting to get a new career started with a company that I may have a chance to become a permanent employee. They are letting us in at 12:45. I suspect it was on of the test participants opening the door for the late person. To many details that don't concern me.

A person came to look at ID's and I wasn't on the list, but neither were some others. I'm not particularly surprised.

I was reading an article about Jerry Brown Mayor of Oakland in Sunday's Chronicle. It was saying how in 7 years he had not accomplished all he had hoped for. A citizen was talking about crime in the flats and how more police are needed. Jerry is now running for State Attorney General. Oh boy!

It is now 1:10 pm and people are wandering in. I find this to be disturbing because other testings I have been to, they lock the doors and if you aren't on time, you don't get in and it was requested when I called about taking the test that I show up 15 minutes early.

It is now 1:15 and the test has still not begun yet. I expected more organization, but surprises never cease. 1:25pm they are now calling people who filled out the applications incorrectly or incompletely. Now they are giving instructions about parking which I was told about on the phone. Now the facilitator is explaining the jobs they are trying to fill. The test crew is short handed today and it is now 1:45pm. She is going to review our TMT sheets questions. It is frustrating because she is doing this one participant at a time. It is now 1:55 pm. She is putting my TMT to the side. She is trying to determine which is us needs to take the test.

I don't have any recollection of having taken this test and don't know what the results may have been. I am now in Portland Oregon which tells me I took the test and what, failed. I don't know. I probably got distracted, as I know I did. Got a hold of someone from my past and everything else became less important. I made plans to move somewhere around July of 2006. 

As late as Aug. 2006 I was still looking for work in SF Bay Area, but running into schemers etc. 

December 18, 2006
The feelings I am getting are overwhelming and depressing. Just scraping the surface of what needs to happen as far as maintenance and Little Willies talents are being exploited by the landlord, the crazy man, the boss. Actually, he has to suppress most of his talent in order to work for this character! Sometimes my life seems so illusive, hard to get a grip on.


Sometime in early 2004

I'm aging. I am getting older inside. As strange a statement this might seem from a man going into his 54 year on the planet, it is true for me.

I've just taken a sip of my morning coffee and it is excellent. That is a feat since my last French press took a spinning dive from my stove top, first hitting the handle of one of my two cast iron fry pans, sometimes known as skillets. I knocked the handle with my elbow, setting it to spin and hitting the skillet. Although I heard the resounding clang of the pan and essentially felt I knew what was coming, I continued to to walk away, letting the freshly pressed contents spill down the face of the 1940's or 1950's Wedgewood Range and oven and then crash as the glass pitcher of te coffee maker; and continued to bounce it's way down the face of the stove. A stove that has seen untold kitchen tragedies over its long tenure as an appliance in servitude of us human beings. It has even seen time in a cave of a warehouse waiting for someone like me who had a nostalgic streak in them for a stove that had some character and closely matched his fathers middle name. The spelling is different, my pops being Wedgwood. the difference is the stoves are one and the Fine china is Wedgwood. Something to do with past relatives.

My father was an interesting character. Apparently, many of us Clyde's are interesting characters! I have found this to be true of myself too. Back to my pops, I didn't know much about him though for various reason and only learned about him, that he was a human being only when he had a stroke in the mid 1970's. I learned lots about him as a person from his clients at a bar in Santa Cruz, CA. It was called the Seaside Cavern and was much like it's name, a cave. It was dark and smelled of stale air, stale alcohol. It was painted green outside, maybe to emulate its place in nature, to make one think of walking into a secret hideaway. On the inside it was dark like a cave. It had dark stained wood, much of the stain coming from the smoke of countless cigarettes, cigars and pipes that were being smoked by patrons and the owner alike. Sometimes the smoke was so think in there it was hard to see across the room. When looking out the entry door one evening I thought the fog had come in, but discoverd it was clear as crystal outside. I drove by it as recently as 2012 and it is a Little Cesar's Pizza shop. The Seaside belonged to a dying group of bars in Santa Cruz. There was the Eastside over on Soquel Ave. The Asti over on Pacific Ave. and the Seaside Cavern. These were all bars that were dying and after having some success in previous decades.

When my father bought the Seaside in the early 1970's it was owned by a couple of semi retired guys, one a truck driver and the other a commercial fisherman. The fisherman's name was Bobby Fazio. Bobby always wore a maroon jump suit with short sleeves. He had dark brown wavy hair and was about 50 back then. Bobby was a wheeler dealer, always had some guy coming by the bar when he was working to show him something, sell him a fish etc. People would come to the side door to the left of the bar down a driveway where he parked his pickup truck. He was the only one who parked there. That was made very clear to me right from the get go by Jim. Bobby had a problem with alcohol and new much more about his problem than I was yet to find out about mine.  The other guy was Jim was probably about 65 or so and I don't recollect his last name but can describe him. He was big, over 6 feet, had a big barrel chest, a stern face like he didn't approve, but mostly kept his opinions to himself. He almost always wore plaid short sleeve cotton shirts, was married, drove a big Buick Electra and seemed to view me as the spoiled kid I was. He taught me the bar business pretty well. He brought his wife in occasionally an aging blond and they were making the circuit of bars including the Asti, the Eastside and the Seaside and Pasatiempo Inn among others. They were almost certainly Republicans, although we didn't talk about politics. Those guys were a couple of characters and my dad fit right in with them. Kept them on after he bought the bar from them. My dad had expressed to me in the past he wanted a bar for a long time. He had looked at others over a period of time but the sellers often lied about their books and their income. My dad was a statistician and really smart with numbers and could look at the businesses books and work the figures in his head and tell you what he didn't like about the figures posted that the money didn't add up. It must have had some attraction to buy that old tired place. He never shared his thoughts about that place or if he did, I was not in my body at the time.

Joseph Wedgwood Clyde was a genius. My aunt Ralda thinks that the two Clyde brothers were of equal intelligence. My Uncle Joseph John Clyde Jr. My uncle told me before he passed that when the family lived in Oakland and were attending high school he and my dad would walk home from school, stop at the library on the way home and check out a book and then stop by the grocery store and each get a beer. I guess the person in the grocery would sell to them because that is just the way it was and they were only getting one. Then they would walk the rest of the way home, take off their shirts, sit in the back yard in the sun and drink their beers and read their book. The books were finished about the time the beer was all finished. They read a book a day. Both of them had problems with alcohol up into their 50's or so, my dad past then. My uncle went to AA for a good stretch and thought he had a handle on it. {My sisters know more than I. }



Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Chapter 400

I was laying in my van reading my current book, Rad Dad dispatches from the frontiers of fatherhood.

Edited by Tomas Moniz and Jeremy Adam Smith

Microcosm Publishing 2011

It is so fresh, I was thinking it was published in 2012. Rad Dad simply stated should be enough to suggest it is not ones traditional fatherhood book. One has to have left their prejudices behind before they can make headway in this book.

It is a group of stories from fathers to be or fathers already. It is current and deals with many aspects of gender, privilege, race  etc. It is stirring me to write, causing me to want some companionship, a friend gender, race don't matter.

This is an aside of how I am feeling. I have been putting off going someplace today. I feel isolated and don't want to do it by myself. My insecurities are living on the top of my skin, paralyzing me. So be it. I will not go away from the house today. Part of that is probably because the past two days I took prescription medication for my back which I slept over night and woke up really sore possibly because of a pinched nerve.  It was so sore I could barely walk. That was on the 19th over to the 20th. The morning of the 20th I took in succession one at a time, tow 500 mg. acetaminophen. They didn't do anything to even take the pain down. I had to walk with my cane that I got for my knee issue. That night, I took a 5 mg. oxycodone a synthetic opiate that the doctors had given me for my knee issue. I never took it for that because when I had that issue, I also tore out all the nerves and had no feeling after the initial pain that was beyond almost anything I have ever experienced. Of course, I have a high pain threshold or so I am told by various medical people. So, I took that two days in a row and hot baths trying to break the cycle of pain. It feels like I have done it. I will not take it again because it is an addictive medicine. In 2007 when I had kidney stones, they gave me morphine in the drip. They told me up to 6 grains was available. I stopped them at 2 grains. That brought that pain at 10 on a scale of 1-10 down to a tolerable 4. I didn't want to be numb. So, I am thinking that my feelings of isolation are compounded by the Oxycodone.


You might wonder, why I am laying in my van reading. I feel at home there, where it is light and warm and I have slept there many times when laid over from work or on a road trip. This van is a much mine as any vehicle I have ever owned. It has been with me for 12 years, an old friend and trouble for me too. It has been part of my life for long time, but not as much a companion as a pet or a friend because it doesn't talk back.

Reading this book that I picked from a friends book shelf before my train trip to CA, thinking I would just sit on the train and read was far from what actually took place. I must return the book. I have had it now for a month and it is getting a little warn. I am more conscious of it more because it is not mine. If it was mine, I wouldn't pay that much attention. I pay more attention to things I've borrowed than things that are mine.

I had big plans for this summer, but I am slow to implement my own plans.

I have a whole bin full of journals and other note books I wanted to convert into digital material, but that didn't come about. I waste a lot of time surfing the net, playing solitaire. I have been forcing myself to read the book. When I read it I feel more connected, not so isolated. I think of the men in my family and how I am the only one left of my grandfathers, my dad, my uncle and my cousin who was like my older brother. I think of the men friends I've had and how I miss the old young Fred. He is now the old rather at a loss Fred, lost and over whelmed Fred. I think of my friend Ricky who was murdered back in 1992 and my friend Mark E. who I saw on my trip to CA. I am not close to any of these, have survived many of them and my friend Tom Steers up in Watsonville, CA. He is out of my league now, lot's of money. He may visit and it would be cool if I had a motorcycle so when he visited I could ride with him.

I think of my friend Jim Burkhart. He writes and we share the same birthday. We remain distant friends.

I suppose things with me happen differently than I think they should and I need to be patient. I was thinking in my van about how chaotic my life still is, how I am so far out there. Not that far, not so far when I read Rad Dad.

Tomorrow will be another chapter. Yesterday was another chapter. Bus yard, bid day, got my old route with only 2 changes so far. They took out a stop and added a new one with a new turnaround. That makes three turnarounds now. I am required to dry run it. That is work at minimum wage and drive the empty bus along the route getting familiar where the stops are and how long it might take me. Summe is almost over, school is almost in session again. School starts Sept. 5 a Wed. this year. We have new buses, new drivers and on October 4 I will have been doing this for 5 years. 5 years is a long time to reach the top of the pay scale, but that is where I will be. Finally, making another top wage that is lower than the past has seen. The thing about it is, I have a place and I am looking towards the future. The future is a goal I am working towards with a new living situation. I a little frightened because it is the unknown, but I have faced the unknown before and know that I really don't have anything to fear.  My plans are solid and will give me a boost in my self esteem and my ability to get out there and take road trips.  Once I get that plan into place I will then think about a new goal. One goal at a time. One chapter at a time. One moment at a time, drip, drip, drip....

Monday, June 18, 2012

5 days and running

Today is my 5th day off work after the last day of school on the 13th of June. What a day that was! Got passed in my school bus by a little white import car across the double line, going up a hill while I was making a 90 degree left turn with another car coming down the hill. Naturally the little white car, short for asshole driver, had to veer quickly in front of my bus to avoid hitting approaching car head on. I smashed the brake pedal down hard, stopping the bus to avoid getting hit by the asshole!

No way to  start the last day of school.

Back to day 5. Fathers day is over and our refrigerator is filled with two kinds of beer, one cheap USA beer with blue in it's name and the other cheap Mexican beer with blue in it's label. And that following my housemate/landlords short fast 3 day weekend with house guests and partying at places soon forgot with friends he will never forget unless he is in a coma. A coma could likely happen the way he drinks! He is a binge drinker, but explains to me it is who they are.

I am actively looking for a new place to live having lived here 21/2 years and nothing has changed except perhaps it is raining in the 3rd week of June. It reminds me of the summer of 1976 when I took a trip to the Northwest and there was record rain in July! On my way to Montana while driving I had to stop in Blackfoot Idaho and help sand bag the town because of the broken black foot dam. Apparently all that rain could not be contained and interstate Hwy. 15 was so flooded only high wheel trucks could slowly get through. We aren't having that much rain.

Onward! Rodney King has dies at the age of 47. Wow and I am 62 and still moving forward into semi retirement. How do we live, how to we come to our end. Life is a big mystery and what happens after death only the dead will know or not. I don't think there is life after death. I think we have this life and when it is done, so are we. So, we must cherish what we have and do what we can to make the world better for those who come after us. However, that is not everybody's view is it? Look at the way our society has lead all of us to use, consume, use all that we can get, Greedy! Our society, our capitalist system is greedy wanting more and more all the time. More for business, less for the common person. See what happens, once I start, stopping is difficult. I don't want this to turn into my political rant!

I have to get ready soon, my physical to maintain my medical card and my Oregon Dept. of Education card, green so that I am deemed healthy to transport children all over the state. I expect to get some charter work in the coming days but a lot of things are happening at our bus yard. New buses are coming and they have to be Oregonized. I did not sign up for that minimum wage work, just charter if you please. $13.89 an hour. There is also a contract suggestion committee today and I was not invited but found out about it. I have my physical at that time, mostly waiting for my physical. I told my union rep I would not take no for the answer to my signing up for the committee this time like last time. I sent her a text telling her I was sorry to miss this meeting, having my physical to attend, but would come to the next meeting. It pisses me off that I have this conflict. 

It is the 5th day of not working. In July, I will be counting the days before getting on a train to CA.  In a couple of months down the road I will be back counting at 5 days left before going back to school. In Jan. of next year, I will be counting the days to my 63rd birthday. Time is moving on drip, drip, drip.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Writing is my time traveling companion....

In my life, there are always to many words. I struggle to find the correct order to put the words, the words themselves and figuring out which words to use and where in my head they are hiding. Yes, the words are hiding. My selection process for finding the words is hindered by my own limitations. What are my limitations? Not much at all really, but an old way of adapting my hunter gatherer genes to sitting still and thinking, hoping to be able to see the consequences of my actions.

That was the start of this piece but by the end of my thoughts for the time being it has turned into time traveling. Whenever I dig into my thoughts I am transported to the past, the present and the future. It is because of how I feel, what I have felt and all other influences on my life. What I have seen, what I hope for, what I don't like and mostly what I feel and think about my own life. Words are my time machine and when I step out of those other thoughts and back into the present depending on how the thoughts and feelings have been transformed into words, fast or slow makes a difference in my expansion or shrinking of time. 

Changing the way I take actions is what I am writing about here. I am saving money in my prime share so that I can purchase a used, new to me vehicle that will carry me into the future. Saving money the last ten years has been harder than any time in my life until just recently. The money I was being paid has just been enough to skim along the edge of poverty, occasionally dipping down and having to put off purchasing food or medicine so that I could have enough gas to get to work. Now I am saving my hard earned tax returns and adding what I think of as extra money to my prime share on pay days which are every two weeks. I still owe my sister money she lent me, that saved me when I had my two serious medical emergencies earlier this year and my dentist for the partial dentures that I now possess, allowing me to once again chew my food the way my parents instructed me so long ago, thoroughly.

My dental insurance company said my absence of teeth was a pre-exisiting condition and they were not going to pay for the 6 artificial teeth that I now put in and take out of my mouth. Now I am paying the full amount over a thousand dollars instead of half that. I am still falling into the statistical averages of people who have encountered the side of insurance companies we who believe in single payer are fighting so hard against, the middleman waste of our money to fat cats who want to take our money without working for it. That is a small distraction, thoughts about situations that I have little control over.

So, back to saving and words to describe it. It is delayed gratification and I suspect I am doing it because I know it is the way to freedom from aspects of our society that gets in the way of my acquiring what material items I need to meet my needs and follow my dreams. When I acquire my home on wheels I will like many home owners invest money into my home which when I get it, will need materials such as insulation, windows, appliances, etc. I intend to attain these things to make my mobile home a home for me.

My dream of a mobile home is not that of a manufactured RV. My dream is of a stealth step van that I outfit with gear on the inside that will make it livable and to let it remain a work truck on the outside so that I may park around towns and country sides looking in all the world like the water department or the some other service company. I have read many ads for such a vehicle and have come across someone else who has expressed the same dream and is now living in a step van.

Ah, this is an interesting change in the blogger website, the ability to publish and then come back and up date without having to jump to other actions. I like it. I left, made breakfast, did some other chores and am back to finish some of the thoughts I was working on.

It seems I have to often resist in some way what our society has been feeding on. That is the wholesale marketing of our institutions. Marketing in my opinion is what companies do that is not quite as honest as one would want to believe. Who exactly determines what is best? Well a company selling a product expresses they have the best product. If one really wants to determine the best product or the best value for your buck one has to look further and get the opinion of Consumer Reports which does not allow themselves to be swayed by advertising. Only in this way can one get an opinion of a product that is unbiased it seems. Advertising and marketing firms are biased because they are getting their pay from the product owner and hence want to make that product successful. In order to do that they bend or stretch the truth or completely falsify what the product will do. Falsifying the truth is lying and lying is against what I was brought up on by my parents and others. The values I was taught growing up seem to have been diluted by the all mighty quest for the dollar.

This is what I rebel against. I have been growing my hair again now for almost 3 years. It will be 3 years in July, which was the last time I cut my hair nearly down to the scalp with my buzzer. July 2009 and then it was grow. Having long hair is one of the first non destructive ways I could rebel against the accepted norms when growing up. At that time my hair was touching the collar of my button shirt and it was unacceptable. Of course, I was already labeled the bad boy who wouldn't pay attention, who openly told teachers to FUCK OFF or FUCK YOU! The administrators of my schools would welcome me in a special session when I was entering middle and high school along with others to read me the laws governing behavior expectations of that institution and to make the point clear would give me and my co-conspirators free samples such as 40 whacks with the big paddle or a week of detention in the first week of high school without any evidence other than past behavior. It is no wonder I fight so against the norms of our society. So, growing my hair is a way of protesting, somewhat wearing my unwillingness to adhere to societal accepted norms. It is also somewhat of a reflection on my past happiness, that I was happier in parts of my past than I admitted later on. Of course, happiness is elusive in our society if we deem that it is acquired from material possessions or wealth from making the most money. Happiness comes from our hearts, following our hearts, at least in my case. I have found my happiness and it has not been easy. I've had tastes of happiness only to have it leave. It would always leave if I was getting my happiness from the outside. I now accept the happiness that is in my heart as being main happiness that I have been seeking. Being satisfied with myself, who I have been working on being and accepting myself unconditionally. 

Just so, the end of my morning rant. Enjoy your life, pursue your dreams! Follow your heart!