SC's Pseudo-Blog
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30 December 2011
Tomorrow Jiggy returns!
The Colorado Avalanche will pay a visit to the Honda Center and the Anaheim Ducks, and my favorite goaltender in the NHL will be among the visitors. Jean-Sebastien Giguere is the legendary "# 35" on the Ducks roster and winner of the Conn Smythe trophy (in the Ducks Stanley Cup final loss in Game 7 to the New Jersey Devils) and the Stanley Cup (in 2007 when he backstopped the Ducks to a final victory in Game 5 against Ottawa at the Honda Center). Jiggy now wears the same number for the Colorado Avalanche. And he's having a hell of a year this year backing up Semyon Varlamov, posting an 8-5-0 record so far. Not impressive, one might think, until you look at his other numbers: GAA 1.95, SV% .928, won four of his last five with a shutout against the Dallas Stars. Those are better GAA and SV% numbers than he had in 2007 when he won The Cup with the Ducks.
As a forward you don't want to be looking into these eyes ...
And I may not be there to see him. And that sucks because, like Teemu Selanne, Jiggy is one of the class acts of the game. Not only is he a great athlete, but he is a good man. And that combination is becoming more and more difficult to find these days.
JS Giguere and his infant son Maxime on the ice at the Honda Center
after the Ducks victory in Game 5 of the Stanley Cup Final against Ottawa, 30 May 2007.
While the boys are playing at the Honda Center I may be working. Our 300 million dollar project is approaching one of it's critical junctures in the form of a shutdown in a couple of weeks, and we are scrambling, along with the contractor, to get ready. For the past two days I have been focusing my weary attentions on nothing else. Today was supposed to be a holiday, but I spent fully half the day at the plant, and must return tomorrow to continue in my efforts. Hopefully I'll be able to wrap things up quickly enough to make the 1705 faceoff. If not, I'll have to console myself with stories from my family about the wonderful standing ovations I am sure JS will receive.
He is worthy of them.
Meanwhile my Fox and her sister and I managed to get away for a few hours earlier this week. We traveled to a favorite part of the central California coast, visited some old friends, and picked up on a few bottles of liquid motivation / recreation.
You never know what you'll find in these little roadside joints. The above image was taken at the original Foxen tasting room. Don't ask me about what's in the can, I don't know and don't want to know. I scrubbed my paws for ten minutes with a wire brush after this image was taken ...
Hey, catch you next year! Be safe. Let's have some fun together in 2012!
23 December 2011
Christmas is almost here.
We got through the family Christmas Party here at The Range. It was a relatively small affair compared to those of years past, about twenty souls including a couple of girlfriends (Aaron's g/f Michta, and of course Mike's g/f fiancee Kaitlyn). It's all that's left of my mom's once abundant family here in soCal. All her siblings are gone, and two of her nieces and a nephew and their families are in Oregon, beyond casual strike range for an event such as this (the youngest of them is 70, I think). So it was three cousins and their immediate families, plus our crew.
When I was a pup and my mom's brother and two sisters were still walking among us, we all lived here in the soCal area. Back then fifty was a more accurate head count at our big family gatherings, sometimes more than that. Those were some lively parties, with ages ranging from infants to elders. Those were good times ...
So it was a long evening last Saturday that actually started just past mid-day when I brought my folks here after spending the morning with them. The rest of them arrived mid-afternoon. We got down with the serious Mexican meal about 1530 (enchiladas, tamales, rice and two kinds of beans, a concoction that I liken as "Mexican corn bread" that Janet made that had jalapeños in it, two salads, and more desserts than anyone could count). Some of the leftovers are still here, not because we're light eaters or frugal, but just because there was so much food.
I took the folks home around 1900, and upon my return began to unwind a bit. One thing my family knows how to do well is consume alcohol, and I was only too happy to jump into that with all four paws. Everyone finally started to go home past midnight, but I think it was not so much because we ran out of things to drink or talk about, but more that those of us on the wrong side of 50 were starting to feel a bit tuckered out. And as most of my cousins are older than me, you can imagine that some tuckered out folks were leaving here in the wee hours.
While it was good to see family that I hadn't seen in a while, it was a sort of wistful good that was overshadowed by watching my folks interact, especially my father. I don't know what the official diagnosis is any more, and don't care, because I am more interested in dealing with what I see and know. He is definitely middle stage Alzheimer's now, and it has had a pronounced effect on how and to what extent he interacts with people around him.
Pretty much everyone is a stranger to him except for my mom and sometimes me. As long as my mom is close to paw he's reasonably content and feels safe, but as soon as she is out of his field of view he starts getting nervous, and the longer she's gone the harder it gets for him. As unfortunate and downright mean as it sounds, I think these family gatherings are just about a thing of the past for them. It's too stressful for him, which sooner or later makes it too stressful for her as well. And that whole mess usually trickles downhill to me, so it's just kind of a difficult scene all the way around sometimes. Thanksgiving was that way, and so was this party last Saturday.
So did my Fox and I learn anything from that? Nope ...
Tomorrow is grandpa coyote's birthday. 86 years! (When I was a small pup he used to tell me "¡Que si! ¡Jesús y yo! Yep! Me and Jesus!" when talking about his birthday being on Christmas Eve.) So we'll have them here again in the afternoon for that. And the following day is the Big One, and they'll be here late morning / early afternoon for that as well. I just hope it all goes smoothly and that he enjoys himself. I don't delude myself into thinking he'll have good memories of anything, because these days with him it's a clean slate every morning when he wakes up. He has virtually no recollection of events from yesterday.
So the next two days will be busy. The Fox and I are hoping to squeeze in a day or two of wheel time with her sister (who is out here from New Orleans for the holidays) after Christmas. We'll probably cruise up the coast to the Santa Maria Valley to visit some friends and pick up some wine that is waiting for us there. Maybe we'll actually be able to decompress for a bit and enjoy ourselves.
I have to be back by Wednesday at 0600, which is when my standby duty starts. I have to be available until 0600 the following Wednesday, so there will be no traveling and minimal partying for me over New Years. And immediately into 2012 our shutdown season starts, which is typically the busiest part of the year for all of us in the Orange County Unit.This year will be no exception, as I have several sites to do annual inspections at on one of our pipelines. Twelve hour days will be the norm, I'm afraid, probably for all seven or eight days. The money will be appreciated, but my family time will be more or less non-existent.
We're all trying to figure out how Adam will fund his next couple of semesters at Biola. With The Fox out of work the cash flow we used to enjoy is gone, so we're looking for loans, scholarships, or supplemental income. He may have to take a semester off until all that comes together. He's not happy about that, and neither are we. But, as my friend Larry used to say, "it is what it is."
I wonder if I could get back on with my old buddies at the BNSF? I hear they are looking for crew, maybe I could get a schedule with them that didn't interfere with my current job too much. That would certainly help the cash-flow situation.
And that's what passes for RL these days. As I have often whined to many in the past, it's what keeps me off the boards and away from the computer. This blog is really the only connection I have any more with the furry community that I used to enjoy so much and contribute to in my own small way.
So Merry Christmas to all our friends from The Fox and I. We hope that your holiday season is all that you want it to be, and that all of you arrive at the doorstep of 2012 unscathed and untroubled.
Catch you next year ...
5 December 2011
Go read this. Whether you're a parent, ever expect to be a parent, or ever expect to be involved in the lives of children, it's something you should read. Set an example, make the world a better place.
And what of the Ducks?
7-14-5, 12 points out of eighth place in the Western Conference, they are two points out of last place in the conference and the league. They have lost nine of their last ten games, predictably blowing early leads in their last two games (against the Flyers and the Wild) with Bruce Boudreau and his team (assistant coaches Brad Lauer and Bob Woods, and video coordinator Joe Piscotty) behind the bench. Welcome to Anaheim, Bruce. Any time you're ready to start resurrecting this team, feel free ...
Tomorrow night it's another edition of the Freeway Faceoff against the Los Angeles Kings.
Stay tuned ...
30 November 2011
The Ducks won tonight, beating the Montreal Canadiens 4-1. That is their first win since 11 November when the Ducks beat the Vancouver Canucks 4-3 (nine games ago), and is only the second win in the entire month of November (13 games). With the win tonight the Ducks are 7-13-4.
Perhaps not coincidentally, Ducks head coach Randy Carlyle has been relieved of his duties behind the Anaheim bench. According to Ducks VP Bob Murray, "This was an extremely difficult decision. Randy is a terrific head coach, and did a tremendous job for us for six-plus seasons. We thank him greatly for his hard work and dedication to our franchise, not the least of which was a Stanley Cup championship. At this time, we simply felt a new voice was needed."
Randy was fired following tonight'sgame. Did the players know he was on the way out before they hit the ice? Hard to say. Randy didn't look any different than he always does behind the bench, so I'm guessing it was as much a surprise for the team as it was for the fans.
Along with Randy's departure, assistant coaches Dave Farrish and Mike Foligno and video coordinator Joe Trotta were also shown the door.
And did you think Bruce Boudreau would be sitting at home reading the newspaper or watching the NHL Channel on cable after the Washington Capitals got rid of him? Hell no, he's coming to California ... Anaheim, to be exact.
Along with Bruce, Brad Lauer is coming aboard as an assistant coach. A second assistant coach will be named to the Ducks coaching staff in the near future.
Rumors have been rampant here behind the Orange Curtain. Many of them alluded to this coaching change, many more have been singling out Bobby Ryan as a trade piece. Hopefully the team will keep Bobby right where he is, and see if Bruce can do for the Ducks what he did for the Caps back in 2007 / 2008 season, when the Caps rose from 30th in the league to win the Southeast Division with a 37-17-7 record.
In the most memorable season in the Ducks history, Carlyle led the Ducks to their first-ever Stanley Cup championship in 2007, beating Ottawa in a five-game Cup final series. Helping Anaheim become the first California team to win hockey's ultimate prize, Carlyle also led Anaheim to its first Pacific Division championship in the same season, compiling a regular-season record of 48-20-14 for 110 points.
So long, Randy. With a record and credentials like that I know you won't be looking for work long. Thanks for the leadership, and thanks for the '07 cup. Good luck wherever your next team takes you.
25 November 2011
Happy Day-After-Thanksgiving, and good luck to all you Black Friday Maniacs.
We had my folks over for Thanksgiving yesterday, and Adam took the opportunity to get a few "family portrait" images to mark the occasion. Here he gets up close and personal with our pooch Kayla. Image taken with his Canon 5D using the Canon 50mm f/1.4 lens under ambient room lighting (ceiling mounted CFL bulbs).
Next he turned his camera on the lot of us using the built in timer. Same equipment, same conditions.
This image is an act of strength and courage on the part of several subjects / victims, the first on that list being my Fox. She is normally skittish around cameras under the best of conditions, and this being her first holiday gathering since her chemotherapy definitely does not qualify as the best of conditions. We were all pleasantly surprised when she agreed to be in the picture at all, let alone without her usual scarf as depicted in the image from 15 November.
And then there is my folks. They are these days gathering their courage up every time they go out of the house, so this was high adventure indeed for them.
So yeah ... fat old dog, Survivor-Fox, two grown-up pups, and the grands. Figured we'd better get this image while we could, you know? One never knows what the future holds, so we have to strike while the iron is hot.
Wanna talk hockey? Me either. The Ducks are next to last in the Western Conference with a 6-11-4 record this season, third worst in the NHL right now. Even their star players seem to be either struggling or, in the case of some of the best-paid amongst them, just standing around on the ice watching the game they're supposed to be competing in. And in spite of Bob Murray's protestationsto the contrary, I smell a coaching change in the wind. Don't get me wrong, I think Randy Carlyle is a great coach, but it's pretty obvious the team isn't getting the messages he's sending these days. If Bob Murray doesn't do something pretty quick here, I think Randy may become a victim himself.
Meanwhile, I suspect that if things don't start clicking on the ice by the first of the year, we're going to see some drastic line changes and personnel movement as we head into the second half of the season. The vaunted "RPG line" (Ryan - Perry - Getzlaf) just isn't producing this season, and other teams are already making inquiries, especially about Bobby Ryan. Last year they were 34+37=71 (Ryan), 50+48=98 (Perry), and 19+57=76 (Getzlaf). Tall numbers to stand up to, and apparently difficult to duplicate for those players this season. After 21 games so far this season the RPG Line has accounted for only 17 goals between the three of them.
Injuries haven't helped. Ducks on the IR right now include forwards Jason Blake (16+16=32 points last season) and George Parros (the Ducks enforcer, -4 with 3+1=4 points last season, 171 PIM), along with defenseman Lubomir Visnovsky (+18 with 18+50=68 points last season, led all defensemen in scoring last season).
My favorite goaltender, JS Giguere (1.85 GAA, .924% this season with one shutout), was traded by the Toronto Maple Leafs to the Colorado Avalanche during the off-season, where he is now cast as the mentor / backup to their number one goalie Semyon Varlamov (321 GAA, .893% this season, also with one shutout). God knows I don't want to tell the great Joe Sacco how to do his job, but those numbers kind of seem backwards when you think of Semyon as the "number one" goalie. I do wonder, in light of the pain the Leafs have been experiencing this year, especially in goal, what possessed Brian Burke to trade Jiggy away. You'd think with the history those two have he would have held on to a trusted and known commodity Like Jean-Sebastian. <shrugs>
So tonight we go to the Honda Center to watch the Ducks try (again) to get their season under way for real. It'll be tough, it's the annual "day after Thanksgiving" match against a strong Western Conference rival who is third in the Conference at 12-7-3: the Chicago Blackhawks.
I'd say it should be fun, but The Fox gets so furious with the RPG Line that it may not be so.
Oh yeah ... I turned 52 today. Yay me ...
18 November 2011
I don't think anyone noticed (which says a lot), but I botched the format of this page a bit during some house-cleaning a couple of weeks ago, resulting in a black background instead of the one you see now. Images were fine, but because the text is also black it appeared that there was ... no text.
Working slowly on the next chapter of The B Team, but don't hold your breath. I'm thinking 2012 ...
Got a letter from the IRS earlier this week. We had gone to a tax pro in 2009 after Granny Fox passed and left my Fox the executor of her estate. Neither ofus knows squat about estate tax law and probate, so we went to this guy who came highly recommended from the coyote side of the family.
Eighteen thousand the feds want ...
Thank the Lord of Lynchburg for whiskey.
As I told my Fox just yesterday, it seems like every time I feel like I'm finally building up some sort of tolerance of and resistance to whatever miseries it is that plague us (and many of them continue), some new one comes down the pipe, and I have to start all over learning how to cope.
But her health continues to improve slowly, and that is the guiding light I try and hold on to. The rest of it can all go to hell and I won't care, as long as she is well and happy.
15 October 2011
Yesterday was our son Michael's 25th birthday. On the 4th my prettiest pup Katie turned 18 and took her driver's license test in the rain (and passed easily). And this coming Monday Adam will turn 21. Times they are a-changin' ...
Here's a couple of survivors. My Fox and I at her first social outing since her surgeries and all that followed. She has come back from all the cutting, the chemicals, and the radiation that are the current vogue in battling cancer. Now she starts a long, five-year regimen of Arimidex, at the conclusion of which she will officially join those fellow survivors in remission.
The mellow-looking old dog to her left is yours truly, carrying my own scars but still joining the battle every day.
Together we defy the world to come and take another chunk of us. It won't be easy ...
As of today my Fox has officially also joined the ranks of the unemployed. As Hewlett Packard picks up speed in its descent towards the foreign ownership market by committing technical and corporate suicide, the company is shedding personnel left and right in the USA in favor of folks who will work for a tenth of what they have been paying Americans to do a job ... and who really cares if those offshore workers are not as knowledgeable about the products or their jobs, let alone able to communicate effectively with their customers?
So with a flick of a hip and a wink to her fellow workers left behind, Survivor-Fox has dusted her paws of all things HP and said "fair thee well."
... OK, maybe it sounded more like "up yours, HP," but the sentiment is there. She's free, and looking forward to new adventures, new projects, and the time to enjoy them.
So today, in the free time I had between tasks with the folks, she and I worked up a budget for the family based on my income alone. The good news is we should be able to get by fairly comfortably provided no vehicles blow up, nothing in the house destructs, and I stay healthy enough to keep shoveling coal into the firebox at MWD. The bad news is that there is no available income for paying college tuitions. Adam will have to fund his last year on his own, and while we can get Katie through junior college without too much fuss, after that she may be on her own as well, in terms of the financial resources for a university.
In spite of things we're all pretty upbeat. Funny how tough times bring out the best in folks. Coyotes are well known for their ability to adapt and survive, and apparently some red foxes are just as durable and flexible. And nobody will go nose to nose with my Fox and not come away knowing they've just met an incredibly tough female.
God dammit I'm proud of her.
12 August 2011
Chapter 47 of Precious Cargo, The First Time ... Again, has been proofed and the multitude of mistakes corrected. It awaits your investigation ... and commentary if you are so inclined. I like to think that I'm improving my meager skills as a storyteller, but may be deluding myself.
The LRB is at my friend Victor's house this weekend getting the exhaust manifold replaced. On most vehicles this is a relatively simple matter, but in the LRB removal of the exhaust manifold requires removal of the fuel rail (pressurized to I don't know how many hundred PSI) and the power steering pump, just so you can make room to get the manifold out of the motor compartment.
My friend Victor has worked on Jeeps before, so he knows what's involved. And he quoted me a fair price, very fair in fact. So lazy me, I said "Hey Victor, what are you doing this weekend?"
Meanwhile the beast has had a little surgery too. I was up on Oat Mountain a couple of weekends ago doing some radio system work with some friends, and the poor beast was hacking and choking and generally running so poorly I seriously doubted I'd get home without walking the last few miles.
Well we did make it, and after replacing a fuel filter, some spark plugs, and some ignition cables the beast is purring contentedly again. But I am not, because the front seal on the refrigerant compressor of my climate control system is blown out, and the air conditioning in the beast is, as we say, bee oh!
Those of you who know me well remember that I am a son of the dry desert of the southwest, and don't deal well with soggy air (see my rant from the 8th of this month, below). It happens that we are in the middle of the monsoon season right now, so this is a bad time for the A/C to be recalcitrant. So as soon as the LRB comes home, the beast will get a new compressor along with a system evacuation and recharge.
It's only money ...
Thanks to Mike and Tigermark for their valuable proofreading. I truly appreciate the help of my friends.
Peace to you, brothers and sisters. Be well.
8 August 2011
Chapter 47 of Precious Cargo went to my proof readers this afternoon. I'm as surprised as they'll probably be that it took exactly a month to get this one done, after the two years it took between chapters 45 and 46.
The Fox struggles through her radiation therapy, but yet holds her optimistic outlook and can't wait for it all to be done.
Neither can I.
Not much else worthy of discussion. I hope the world is treating you well, my friends.
8 July 2011
Heat wave.
It's been close to triple digits for the past few days, with humidity to match. For a coyote like me this weather sucks, especially having to work outdoors in it. I detest wet, sopping air. Where are my Santa Ana winds? Give me a hundred and ten and ten percent and I'll be happy ...
Yesterday morning around 1030, while working up on top of a pressure control structure, some of my workmates observed the birth of what turned into a moderate brush fire. They pointed it out to me (I was working four feet under a steel mesh deck), and I called it in to our Area Control via two way radio. A/C immediately notified 911.
The fire started immediately adjacent to a canyon road that runs directly behind our plant, no doubt caused by a casually discarded cigarette butt. Two S-2 fire bombers and three attack helicopters, and an OV-10 flying forward air control spent the balance of the day assisting units from the OCFA, Brea, and Chino Hills Fire in a battle to prevent the fire's spread to homes and commercial radio sites in the hills. They were ultimately successful but over 400 acres were consumed. By sundown there was no visible flame and minimal smoke. Score one for the air and ground warriors.
Overnight lows have been in the low 70s. This evening it's a little cooler, only 75 at a quarter past eight in the evening, so we may see the high 60s overnight. I hope so. Yet while I sit here in shorts and a work shirt muttering about how warm it is, my Fox is across the room huddled under her blanket. Damn chemotherapy is still messing with her even after almost a month.
But it's not all bad. In fact she is showing signs of finally beginning to recover her health. So we are optimistic and looking forward to what the future brings.
Meanwhile I managed to finally finish a chapter of Precious Cargo that I began writing over a year ago. Divisions went live tonight after input from several of my proofreaders <tips hat to Tigermark, Kellan, and Mike>. I'm not too pleased with it, but we'll see what others think before I start thinking about tearing it apart. It's been almost exactly two years since I last posted a chapter to this story!
After growling about my job in this blog the other day, I had a rare compliment handed to me courtesy of my boss. Several of them, actually. I had my annual performance review early yesterday morning. It did my heart some good to be recognized for my contributions which seem so invisible most of the time.
So this weekend is starting off fairly well. I'll keep my fingers crossed that it stays that way. I hope your weekend treats you well.
28 June 2011
Round two coming up.
My father's cataract surgery was quite successful, although the anesthesia sort of de-calibrated him for the balance of the day. Some of his other medications have robbed him of much of his equilibrium anyway, so he's been slow to bounce back from that. Which is just as good. Perhaps with two eagle eyes he'll have a bit better sense of where up is. I'll keep my fingers crossed for him.
The Fox starts her once-a-day, every-business-day radiation therapy next Thursday 7 July, and will run that course for 31 treatments. That means <thinks while scribbling> ... that her final treatment should be 19 August, barring any holidays the staff might take.
I'm glad they gave her an extra week before starting up. She has been very slow coming back from the last chemotherapy infusion, and needs all the time she can muster to regain her strength.
So look for us to be working through that, and don't be surprised if you don't hear much from us until September, or maybe even a bit later. Thanks to all of you who have helped us along the way so far.
We'll be back ...
25 June 2011
Wow ... half a year has gone by. Time for an update, I guess.
My Fox continues in her battles. She has cleared one big hurdle, her chemotherapy is over. It was not without some healthy doses of both pain and fear, and she is a long way from recovering from what those poisons have done to her physically. Still she somehow manages to be optimistic about it all, and is looking forward to clearing the next big hurdle in front of her, the radiation therapy.
Fevers put her in the emergency room several times during her chemotherapy regimen, and after one of those admissions she spent a couple of nights in the hospital while they fed her more chemicals to get her white blood count back up from near non-existence to a more reasonable level where her body could have some hope of protecting itself from ... well, the chemicals.
She's lost about 25 pounds since New Years.
Towards the end of that merriment we got a call from the hospital advising us that we both might have been exposed to live tuberculosis during one of her infusion sessions. Now 95% of the hospitals concern was for her, obviously, as she has virtually no immunity to anything right now. So a chest X-ray and a TB test (and some sweat time) later we got the word: no signs of TB. That was an ugly two-week wait though, I'll tell you.
Along with the commonly known side effects of chemotherapy (hair loss and immune system suppression being the primary ones) she has experienced a couple of other side effects that have just frustrated her no end. She has no sense of taste. She says everything she eats either tastes and feels like feathers (acceptable, perhaps, if you're a feline, which she most definitely is not), or has a very unpleasant chemical taste to it.
She's cold all the time. Now that may not seem like much to those who don't know my Fox very well. In good health she's usually one of the first to start complaining about how warm it is. Right now it's 83 degrees in the shade on our patio, so I'm dressed as you might expect for a weekend day: shoeless, shorts, sleeveless tee. Here at my desk it's about 78, because virtually every window in the house is closed and we do not have any climate control stuff running. And that's because she's upstairs, poor thing, fully dressed and huddled in a blanket, where the room temperature is at least what it is outside. And she's cold ...
She's been slow to recover from that last infusion, too. I think the doctors were hoping she'd be ready to jump right in to that radiation therapy, but while we've already been to the treatment center in Ontario once already (where she had a CT scan ... they seem to love bombarding her with X-ray radiation), they have not told her when she'll start or what her schedule will be. All we know is that it's supposed to be daily for five weeks.
And that delay is just as well. She has no energy. It's all she can do to get across two hundred feet of parking lot to a check-in desk. And that's not her, she used to be the one that was always urging the rest of us to hurry up.
I know she's going to rebound from this. I know she'll be back, better than ever. But this has been an un-nerving, unpleasant, and dangerous ordeal for her, and it's left both of us feeling pretty destabilized about life.
Meanwhile, while all that was going on, I managed to take of a week from work for a stupid-break. I won't bore you with how it happened, but I badly turned my ankle right here in my own family room one weekend in early May. Six x-rays showed no break or fracture, but my foot blew up like a balloon anyway and turned all sorts of odd colors. I got a wry chuckle at the doctor's expense when I went to see her. "You're blood pressure is high," she says with a worried expression.
"Really?" I laughed. "Ya don't say! I never would have guessed that ..." So we discuss life and my methods of keeping the lid on for a little bit.
Blah blah lose weight drink less exercise more, here's your crutches, go home and stay off your feet for a week.
So yeah. I took my week. But I probably should have taken two, because the damn thing is still somewhat swollen and pains me at times quite a bit. Oh well. Nothing I can't overcome with patience, even if some of it does come in a bottle ...
Meanwhile our youngest graduated high school the other day.
The Fox was quite saddened by her inability to see her daughter graduate. She's been pretty much house-bound since January with the chemotherapy, and still is. So I took my trusty camera with a big lens to the graduation and got some images from about a hundred yards away. But her brother stole the show. He showed up with his little pocket camera with the big zoom lens that shoots video. Which was good, because my Fox was enchanted with the videos when we all got home.
So our daughter starts at the local city college this fall. Which brings me to the LRB ...
Some of you may recognize this. It is the role model for a character in Precious Cargo, and was, until recently, my son Mike's primary mode of transportation. In April he bought himself a brand new Honda Insight, and this Jeep Cherokee reverted to my care. It was in need of some serious TLC when I got it, TLC I am trying to administer now so I can give it to my daughter for school this fall. A tie rod here, a wheel bearing there, a transmission mount, and some lesser hardware here and there helped to make things work better. The exhaust manifold is cracked, that's next on the list, and it could use a brake job. But the Little Red Beast is in pretty good shape for 218,000 miles, don't you think? That's more than the real beast has on the clock!
I've been driving the LRB to work and back as I identify and correct the various bugs in it's systems. I think I've identified and fixed the majority of them except for the two mentioned above.
And then there's work ...
My career at work has devolved intro merely a job. Whereas I used to go to work looking very much forward to whatever the day brought my way, now I struggle through the morning ritual of the team meeting and the new order our team has shouldered. Camaraderie is good among my peers only because we share a common foe, but the Esprit De Corps is gone. Not just gone ... destroyed. There is little joy in what we do, other than the small personal satisfaction I continue to derive from the knowledge that I do my work well and completely. That in spite of occasional direction to do otherwise.
While that has been going on locally the Board of Directors have gladly jumped on that big "beat up on the public employees" bandwagon, so now as we attempt to yet again re-negotiate a contract the only word anyone in management wants to discuss is concessions. What are we willing to give up? Hell, I'd have been perfectly happy to rubber-stamp our existing contract for another five years and let it go at that. Nothing gained, nothing lost, just coast through the rough economy and re-visit everything when things look a little better.
Don't you find it interesting that the politicos in this country have finally figured out how to get the working class to beat up on itself? In several states now, including the one I live in, it is politically fashionable for those wishing to rise in the ranks of their particular party (Democrats and Republicans both do this) to beat up on the public employees, and especially the unions that represent them. Save your flames, I'm not a big promoter of unions either, but mine has fairly represented me and negotiated in good faith with my employer for many years. Whatever. It just amazes me that the folks who seem to be beating on us in the media and the press the most are fellow middle-class workers from the private sector. I have trouble wrapping my head around that ... the working class beating up on the working class. <shakes head>
I have acknowledged to myself that the whole debacle that was my attempt to transfer onto the communications team in my company was a doorway of sorts. Since then I have come to the realization that I have more or less seen my day at work. I am stalled, topped out, and only have years more of the same to look forward to. Meanwhile the powers that be continue to do whatever they can to diminish the value of our classification and they are quite successful. The short story is that I'll probably be doing the same grunt work for essentially the same pay when I retire ten years from now. It's kind of ... sad. I feel like I have so much to give that nobody wants.
Sure, there are promotional "opportunities." But I've been down that path, been through our bidding process and seen how that really works. I've been told by the hiring authorities that I was either the best candidate or that the job bid was created specifically for me, only to see it awarded to someone of lesser capability and / or experience and / or dedication and / or ethics. This has happened three out of three times now. I know an endless loop tape when I hear it.
So work is ... dull. Mind-numbingly predictable, repetitively monotonous. But it pays well, and I can tolerate the miscreants that make it difficult and joyless, and I keep hacking away at it.
And finally there is my father.
And I can't even bring myself to write about him. He is a much better soul than I'll ever hope to be, and somehow manages to hang on to a little dignity for himself despite what his body is doing to him, and in spite of the way those around him react to those changes and interact with him.
The good news is that he and my mom are getting some regular in-home help now. That has made things a little easier for both of them.
Monday I take them up to the SGV for his second cataract surgery. He still enjoys reading, and of course he enjoys his television and movies, so this will help him quite a bit.
Me, I'm not as well as I was. I summarized it like this in a message to a concerned cousin a few weeks ago:
I am now heavier than I have ever been in my life and don't much care. I'm hypertensive, yet I drink well past the point of excess on a regular basis, and don't much worry about that either. I haven't been to church in a long time, my faith has been hammered practically to the point of non-existence. I'm surly and unsavory at the best of times, and downright unhappy on repeated occasion. My contact with the outside world is limited pretty much to my job, what family I have left hears from me little, if at all. And maybe that's for the best. I'm not the father or husband that I once was, and wonder if I ever will be again. I am not who I used to be, and the change is so great that even I cannot deny the way things are. Until whatever fateful or godly conditions that prevail see fit to stop shoveling shit into the lives of those that matter to me like coal into a firebox, I suppose I won't get better. But I will shoulder this load, because that is what I do best. And until it literally drives me into the ground I will keep swinging at and spitting into the eye of fate, and will keep trying to do right by those that matter to me.
And that's pretty much all the news that's fit to print from The Range. I have done very little writing. I worked on the next chapter of Precious Cargo for a while, but it's so dark I can't motivate myself to continue. My muse is AWOL pretty much 24/7, and most evenings it's all I can do to keep both eyes open when I finally stop working with the tasks at home that follow the work day.
I have gone nowhere recreationally for a year, and I mean nowhere. Aside from trips to work, to The Fox's doctors and the infusion center, and a rare occasional trip to a mountaintop radio site to do some volunteer work for the state or some other emergency-preparedness organization, I have been a home-body.
The Fox and I are planning some sort of break-away trip to celebrate her return to health this fall, but as everything is up in the air schedule-wise we don't really know when that will happen. Whenever it does, I hope to return to my hobby of photography as well. I owe an equine friend a special image ...
That's all, folks! Next update when something improves.
Comment at the forum if you are so inclined. Enjoy your day!
3 January 2011
I'm starting the year on a positive note, with a new chapter of The B Team. Second Wind has been proofed by my best and kindest critics, and is now on line for your enjoyment. Let me know what you think at the forum for The B Team at Planet Furry.
The holiday break has been good to me in a small but important way. In spite of the stuff happening here at The Range, the time off for the holidays afforded me some time to try and relax. And part of that relaxation involved me collecting several vignettes from my writings about a particular canid aviator we know, and assembling them into the aforementioned chapter.
Another thing accomplished, with a huge assist from the elder coyotes, was a new coat for the beast. Same color, minus the rust and scuffs and scrapes of sixteen years of hard four-wheeling fun and back-country exploration. It almost looks respectable now. I was a little frustrated by our weather, of course we had the heaviest rains of several seasons while it sat in the paint shop. I held it there for an extra six days hoping for a respite, but eventually brought it home in the driving rain to avoid having to be without it over the Christmas / New Years break. Anyway, it's all spiffy now. Guess I'll have to pretty myself up some to go along with the trend.
Which in the case of yours truly brings me to realistic, attainable New Years Resolutions:
Drink less
Lose some weight
Spend more time outdoors
Reconnect with the furry community I write in
Those are things I want to do in 2011 while I continue to do the things I need to do:
Take care of my Fox
Take care of my folks
Get Adam through Biola
Keep a positive cash flow coming into The Range (can you say "keep a job?")
It's going to be an interesting year. I will do my best to touch base with you all as we progress. You can do the same if you care to by sharing your thoughts at the forum for this blog. I want to hear from you, to know what you think about things. I'm always ready to learn something ...
As for 2010? Well ... allow me to express my thoughts clearly:
I swear that, whatever it may seem, I am totally sober in this picture. It was taken by a coworker at a company Christmas function where we were all decorating a fifteen foot pine tree. Some sweet thing thought I'd be cute with the headgear on, and some schmoe had a camera ...
So Adíos, 2010. No permita que la puerta golpee su culo en la salida.