Political Activist

     

     First assignment, Ben's political introduction. As I turned around entering the voting precinct, I knew I had been followed. Somehow, he had quick stepped his grandmother and was right on my heels. The disguise wasn't complete for he still had the gait of a young Frankenstein. All is on the surface if you happen to be two.
      As I filled out my paperwork to vote, the silver haired ladies focused. He was an immediate darling of the group. The first lady at the end of the table wanted to talk to him. He raced over to her and grabbed the drink sitting on her table and finished it. So much for that conversation.
      

Climbing to Zero

     This is the first January I've stayed in Michigan in three years. In previous years, I've returned to broken pipes, a shut down furnace, and various other difficulties.  I awoke this morning to a minus 22 degrees, but I had heat, light, and water in abundance.
       One of my goals has been to earn my winter merit badge. Somehow, I felt it slipping away. My re-occurring thought was, "If not now, when?" I mulled this over while I did the dishes and admired the sun shinning on the snow at a positive five degrees.
        By way of explanation, ( I love this phrase ) I wasn't sure how one went about earning a merit badge. I had a few ideas and thought as I worked them out perhaps the path would become clear. I did know that I have to stay put for the month to really begin.
        With any goal, as one gets closer, the approach-avoidance syndrome springs forward like a wrench dropping into a Luddite's grip. How can we seize up the machinery? Not to worry, there is more than enough forces available to seize up the gears.
         Like an old fashion movie, the calendar page tore by, in the wink of an eye. February found me in a better position. Native Americans used sweat lodges in pursuit of mystery goals, so perhaps this functioned as a background assistant.
         In this situation, for novelty sake, I tried a different tack, grunge. I had to stand still and not exit until I completed my goal and toughed it out. After all, we all know, to arrive at the other side of the forest, we have to walk through it. 
         Dawn's cold realization was that all of my life I had been trying to avoid winter. Well that can't be done if it blocks your path. To get to the other side of winter, I had to go through it. No detour.
         Now the month of May sheds new light, plus its warmer too. Last weekend I split wood, and now I'm carrying water from the river to the cabin. Split wood, carry water. The answer was at the Outpost the whole time. I just had to stick around long enough to stumble over it. 

Call Waiting

       I called a telemarketer yesterday because the advertising  sent me was so error filled and fear driven that  someone had to respond. They were selling extra vehicle insurance and part of their ploy was telling me that mine either had expired or was about to expire within a week. 
       We had a very long conversation (at one point, he said  we had already been on the phone 55 minutes). I didn't dispute that, but he really didn't realize that we weren't quite finished for we hadn't talked about daylight saving time yet.
        Daylight savings time was on my mind. My barber told me the worse thing about it was that he had to get up at 2:00 am to change the clocks. Some are more serious than others about these matters. Anyway, after we finished the daylight talk and I terminated the call, one more thing occurred to me. If daylight could be saved, the savers wouldn't be here to collect it, and that is the worst investment of all.

After Thought

This week both of us have had some of the many downsides of our technology world. I think I’ve stumbled on something that may shed some light on why we are drawn to it and consequently how we can begin to elude its grasp in the end.

I’ve been reading one of my notebooks from 1974 and it set me to thinking. Over and over again, I record the price I pay for not being organized. I think this is a real human need.

The other segment of puzzle comes when I begin U of M Flint. Here, I discover the endless possibilities of word processing. Before this time I considered the whole idea a pipe dream. But Lo, in the late 80’s I discover it is true and a computer can make it so.

These two instincts of organization and writing are underwritten by a third element which it turns out to be even more important. What is it you say? Procrastination, the final frontier.

Each new wave of technology allows us the liberty of even more postponement than before. The speed and organization of our thoughts and communications can fill past procrastinations like a glove. 

This new NoteBook program allows me to pretend even more than I could before that I will achieve my goals without a lot of extra effort. Like  a perpetual motion machine-stalled even before its engaged.

So, I submit this conclusion. We love and hate it for the same reasons. Our capacity to be willingly deluded by it.

Garage Sales

     This week marked the end of the line. My clothesline broke over and over again. Every time I tied it in knots to repair the break, it broke again. Twenty five years out in the weather proved too much. It gave up the ghost.
      I went to Walmart, the store of last resort, and found a modern one. Well, it didn't break, but it certainly was not up to the task at hand. It constantly dropped and took my clean clothes into the dirt. What to do? I tried something new. Shopped on the internet and found a real line at Tractor Supply. 
      Next day, I went for the gold in the recycle world of garage sales. So many treasures I discovered. The last event of the day was incredible. Jan called me over to look at some long playing records. 

     I gave my collection up about a decade ago to a man on the crew working on my cabin. Low and behold, this was my old collection. In a heartbeat, I'm back in the game of sailing recycling!
       

Day in Court

       

       Finally knocked it out. I've been procrastinating since my first call to jury duty about fifteen years ago. I haven't had a mailbox at my home about that long, so it took a while for them to connect to me. The summons is offensive for a number of reasons even though I think good citizenship is important. Today, I finally wrote a letter back to the county clerk.

Dear County Clerk,

I received your “Summons to service” some time back and thought I might provide some feedback for you. The threatening letter and the overall tone reminds me of the McCarthy era where folks are accused of deeds they haven’t even committed.  It is as if the prospective juror stands indicted for being a citizen who has a civic duty to perform, but hasn’t had the opportunity to perform it yet. It almost invites defiance.

So…I appeared as I always do with a bit of an attitude. When selected to be a juror, I got a very pleasant surprise. The judge asked most of us questions and the direction was clear as day to me. In spite of my misgivings, he was bending over backwards to produce a fair trial and not coerce anyone. I was very impressed, and happy to be part of the process!

If the court has had difficulty in the past compelling citizens to appear for jury duty then perhaps a change in venue. The court actually serves the people and I predict if you treat them with respect you will achieve better results.

Sincerely,

       

Dual State of Mind

      While watching PBS News, I learned last week that a major coffee lounge was allowing people to openly bring  guns in with them. Further in the piece, I watched in disbelief as a video portrayed a Starbuck's in Alabama. A man who had a rifle strapped on his back walked up to the counter to get a brew. 
      Within the same week, two men in Michigan were engaged in road rage. One man followed the other into a parking lot and they shot each other dead. Both men had a concealed weapon permit. The guns were legal, but the resulting murders were not.
       This weapons craze is very baffling to me. I really thought carrying guns for protection was settled long ago in the wild west.The futility of arming yourself for protection is linked to the thinking that society can wage permanent war to achieve lasting peace.
       
      
       

Letter to the Manufacturer

Dear Mr ..........,

I’m sending you this picture of my new Cruze for two reasons. The first is that I’m proud of it. GM and Chevrolet have done a great job! Test driving this car bought back the driving excitement of the Fieros that I have owned in the past. I purchased it as soon as I returned from the test drive.
        While writing up the deal, the salesman mentioned that a spare tire wasn’t included with the car. Not to squirrel the deal, I decided that I would buy my own temporary spare later. My guess was that it wouldn’t cost more than a hundred dollars to remedy this oversight.
        The spare arrived yesterday with another surprise. The price tag was over four hundred dollars! When I called Chevrolet a month ago, they provided $100 in “good will” money to help out. I don’t think either of us had a clue that it would be up in this price range. When I called back this Wednesday with the dollar amount, the man replied that the limit of good will had already been reached and he wouldn’t be allowed to go any further.
The second reason I’m sending you the picture is that a spare tire is an integral part of a car.  I would wager that 99 out of 100 people viewing this picture would assume that it had a spare in it somewhere (a Fiero has the spare cleverly hidden under the hood). A few eBay sellers issue the disclaimer that if you don’t see it in the picture then you don’t get it (caveat emptor) but that thinking leads to many unhappy customers which both of us want to avoid.
Yesterday, I bargained with the manager and he contributed some money for the tire which leaves me paying a balance of $200. This is my proposition. Chevrolet doubles their good will to $200. Small price for “good will”. Otherwise, to mar an excellent machine with an economy of measure that diminishes the customer is to be short sighted.

Sincerely,

The Light

       I can hear the wings rhythmically beating against the body as it flies in circles about two foot over my head. The sound that I know so well is back! I roll out of bed quickly in my attempt to turn on the bedroom light, and open the bedroom door. Nothing is working very well at one-thirty am. 
       Vain attempts appear to be the order of the day, but after five tries, one success. I fling open the door and it follows me out of the room. Then, I scramble for my flashlight on the shelf. Dimly it illuminates a much larger arena
        Up, down, around and around flies the bat. 
I jerk open the heavy wooden outside door hoping he will make his escape, but he chooses to land and hide instead. An hour later, with the aid of my diminishing return of a flashlight, I track and net him. Catch and release. As I finally lay back down in bed, I hear the faint sound of tiny wings against my window pane like "Rats feet over broken glass."

        

Vintage

       

       I stopped to give Mike a hand today. Not the same situation, but it did remind me of fifth grade in Carsonville. Perhaps it was the pristine Allis Chalmers. I loved them even more later in life when  I discovered they manufactured air craft engines.