Click images for desktop size: "Haiku On Hanami" by April Joy E Jasmin My mother used to be terrified that she, being only fifteen years older than me and divorced, was going to deprive me and traumatize me. The only book, the only resource for new mothers then was Doctor Spock. She couldn't go to her mother for advice. My grandmother hadn't talked to her since my mother's divorce. So my mother fumbled around and did the best she could figure out.
Sometimes this entailed taking me to work with her. When she was working at the concession counter at the drive-in movie theater going with her was very cool. I would sit at a picnic table on a concrete slab by the projection booth, right next to a blaring metal loud speaker and float into the movies while my mom's teen co-workers inundated me with sugar-y soda, popcorn and ice cream.
It was in that state that I first saw "Godzilla". A warm California night, the sea breeze and eucalyptus scenting the air and sixty feet of city munching reptile destroying everything adults hold dear. Perhaps my still holding love affair with Japanese jidai-geki movies has more to do with remembering a mother's love than it does my fondness for giant lizards and men in rubber suits. I wouldn't know. I'm more Adlerian than Freudian.
I liked monster movies. So did my mother but she worried so her next big plan to keep me from being deprived was a subscription to The Children's Book Club.
This was some weird thing, probably from an ad in "Teen Mom's Weekly". For fifty nine cents a copy your child, meaning me, got a hard cover classic of children's literature.
They were cheaply printed things. Thing I remember most were the super ragged edges of the pages. But I liked the books. I liked the stories in them. Classics is a pretty broad term. There were Hardy Boys stories, strange science fiction and "Alice's Adventures In Wonderland". I really liked that book at age 7. I liked the pictures and I liked the horrible things that happened to the little girl.

Click images for desktop size: "Purple Vectors" by Unknown At that stage of my life torturing little girls was a major part of my entertainment. Not real torture but stuff like dropping snails down their backs, stealing the heads from their dolls. Typical stuff. The one girl who thought it was cool and fought back instead of shrieking and threatening to tell on me became a life long friend.
So I liked that all the animals yelled at Alice, picked on her and tormented her. It kept my interest up.
I read that book and re-read it then got on with surfing, torturing little girls etc. In high school someone gave me a copy of Martin Gardener's "The Annotated Alice". I don't remember who. It took me a long time before I started reading it. When I did start to get into it I was enthralled. It started my trek into Lewis Carroll fandom.
I recently got a copy of Jenny Woolf's new book, "The Mystery of Lewis Carroll". It's a bit dry but it attempts to debunk some of the more bizarre suppositions about Charles Dodgson like that he was actually Jack the Ripper. It also attempts to tackle the issue of his being a pedophile. That has always driven me crazy. I've read some persuasive arguments for it being so and I've tried to accept that he was a pedophile who never actually improperly touched or harmed a child.
That goes against my knowledge of pedophiles. When I took my training to help abused kids part of it was attending group therapy sessions and listening to child abusers. I think the plan was to get us trainees to have some compassion and empathy for the offensive
Click images for desktop size: "Audrey Hepburn" offenders.
It didn't have any such effect. I have been alone with thrill killers, reputed Mafia hitmen, drug addicts, prostitutes and movie stars. At some level I've always felt a bond of humanity. Sometimes it was tenuous and difficult but it was always still there.
Prior to my meeting the child abusers the group I felt most distant from were the hard core crack addicts. They were so lizard brained that any cloudy memory they had of being human was only called on to try and manipulate.
Child abusers, the ultimate victimizers, didn't have even that. To me they were an alien insect race that would be best served with a claw hammer and a room draped in plastic.
They have no control over their actions. They must abuse. So sordid and ingrained is their delusion that they speak often and in agreement that children are sexual seducers who lure them into the abusers horrific attacks and fantasies.
The thing is that they were all like this, all out of control. Even chemical and physical castration has not deterred child molesters from attacking children.
No matter how convincing the arguments it was hard, nearly impossible for me to put Dodgson in
Click images for desktop size: "Rise on an Angel" by Titusboy this category, this misshapen lump. I could not even accept that he was a pedophile who had somehow managed to NOT harm children.
Ms Woolf's book tries to address this issue while presenting an image of Carroll full and deep. She uses a few newly discovered letters, gets some interesting interpretations of available data from MD's and such and uses a unique and solid bit of hard evidence.
She uses forensic accounting. Recently discovered are the complete bank records for Dodgson. From the first penny he spent till the decimation of his estate at his death. Financial records.
It seems odd. But so did bringing down Al Capone's empire based on his financial records. It paints a picture of Carroll and Dodgson that I am much more in agreement with that any other previous. Meaning it jibes most closely to my own perceptions of a major part of my pantheontology.
Woolf's writing style is a bit dry and prosaic but her observations are keen, her conclusions are only pedantic when strongly supported by evidence. It makes a good read and provides at least for the fans, which I am, a nice amount of dream time considering Dodgson/Carroll. My only complaint is that a bit too many words are spent rejecting some of the more inane conclusions about Dodgson.

I went for my stress tests on Wednesday. Interesting stuff. They made the mistake of leaving me alone in a room too long. I found a remarkable plastic model of a heart. It was dumped behind some boxes in a cupboard. I coveted it and considered stealing it. I didn't. Not because of any high handed moral arguments or out of fear but because it occurred to me that it might only appear to be discarded and might be of service to some other poor slob stuck in my kind of hell.
The stress tests themselves were not all that difficult. The first one was on a treadmill. I was out fitted with all the ekg terminals and an x-ray machine was pointed at my chest.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Wally Wood It was hard getting my pulse over 100. Not that I'm that fit but because the treadmill didn't offer up enough resistance and I was ordered to not bend over too much to accelerate so that the x-rays would hit the right spot.
After that we went to the stair masters. Due to my chemotherapy history they eschewed x-rays. Didn't want to blast me with too much radiation in case I turned into a super hero I bet. So this time I climbed the unending staircase and was monitored by electrodes and sound waves. I could see the sonogram as I worked out. It was so incredibly cool looking at my heart beat. In motion I was trying to control it and make it do interesting things. That got me yelled at.
Don't have all the results yet but what there is is good. My heart has healed. There are abnormalities but they have to be looked for rather than appearing as distorted lines and squibbles.
My vitals are all good. they doubled my blood pressure meds. Rah. My BP was 120 over 60, but they decided they want it even lower! Part of this is due to the congestive heart failure I had with the Lyrica. Then my BP was hovering around 190 over 80 due to all the fluid in my chest compressing everything. Getting my standard BP even lower will enable me to endure a real congestive heart attack (that's what killed my grandmother when she was 98 . . .) They said I was on an extremely minmal dosage anyway and this would still have me below average.
Now I just wait for the rest of the results and the fitness and fury.
Just wanted to mention my puppy. She's continued to be wonderful. She's crazy and calm by turns. When I'm feeling more under the weather than usual she's protective. When I'm feeling better she's bossy and obnoxious, demanding her way. She's my friend.
She's been on a diet. She hates it. But we went to the pet store yesterday and she has lost nearly TWO POUNDS! Bringing her weight down to 71! Only six more pounds to go till she is her ideal weight!
She could care less about ideal weight. She'd rather have ice cream at all of her meals.

Posted by David at 5:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by 7th Vision Tuesday
Another day at work. Spent my waking time arranging my transportation for physical therapy, optician and neurology appointments. It seemed a dreary and depressing chore.  
Took my puppy for her walk and, as usual, marveled at how much she enjoys just being with me; how keen she is for adventure. We saw a rabbit. It was disappointing that the bunny wouldn't sit still to be smelled.
We met a new dog in the neighborhood . A boy.
It made for a good morning.
I fell asleep at the computer reading emails, went to bed at 11 AM. Begrudgingly my puppy agreed to share our single bed. Slept fitfully until my phone rang; robot calls, two in a row, confirming the physical therapy and the neurology appointments.

Wednesday
Pouring rain; makes me feel even sicker.
Went to Physical therapy. It was good. He explained to me why drops in barometric pressure cause my shoulder to hurt and why the corresponding effect is a two inch loss of mobility.
The explanation was filled with tech terms and medical jargon. The ones I got were the easy ones like orbital and viscous fluid. Even when I didn't understand it all it gave me comfort to have it explained out loud.
Stretched out the three ligaments in the shoulder. Hurt but felt I was getting some good out of it. Then worked on the shoulder with some machines and tools. I made a special effort to remember the names of the tools. Can't recall any of them. Don't know if that's due to the fever or lack of sleep.
Next time I'll write it all down. Taking notes on my life.

Thursday
The war with Canada escalates. I received a two page letter from them. It makes no sense. It
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by 3D clearly was rushed and not even proofread.It is so insane and bewildering that I wish I had a good attorney I could afford to interpret it. It is as full of lies as a government letter normally is but ends with a whack phrase "I find you not to be inadmissible so I refuse you entry to Canada . . . "
To which I can only say, "Huh?"
Its what I expected but I expected a little more care to be taken and for their to be some precision and not so filled with wild conclusions and down right lies, demonstrably false lies to boot.

Friday
After a painful day at work I fell asleep in front of the computer but woke up in time for Physical Therapy and to go the neurologist.
I had to sit for over an hour in the waiting room. It was the kind of waiting room I've come to hate; large and over bearing with noise, not helped much by the two flat screen TV's blaring different commercials for medical services from opposing corners.
Met the Doctor. He was in his late 20's. Seemed like he was sort of brilliant. As we talked I found out he was one of the lead's on the NFL concussion and neurological research team.
Watching him rip through the medical database (which is still a thing of beauty) was cool. An impressive feat was that he'd gone and dug up data that wasn't in the database. Early medical treatments from before the database existed and before I lived here. A lot of research for a new patient. I started to think about how much the wunderkind
Click images for desktop size: "Josef Stalin" must charge.
One unsettling fact was that one of the first chemo's I had, a pretty nasty one - the constant sickness and hair falling out in clumps that makes good dramatic movie fodder but is still no fun to live through, it started with a Vin or some such, well this Vin chemo contained a neurotoxin as one of its ingredients . . . it would sort of be impossible for me not to have some nerve damage. This was also the chemo that gave me diabetes. Nasty stuff. It didn't work either.
He explained that diabetes also caused a certain amount of inevitable nerve damage. Then he said the only cringe inducing thing of the day, "you know you're a pretty fascinating guy. When I was doing your medical history I was expecting someone well, no one like you. You don't even look your age let alone like someone who's been through all this," as he waved his hand at the computer screen and its load of open documents.
I replied with something weak like, "A guy is always more than just a bunch of words and pictures," with a shrug. He started to say something back and ended with, "Well, I should get on with the examination."
And that's what we did.
I have definite damage in the ulnar nerve. This was possibly caused by the cop twisting my arm.
Click images for desktop size: "Shaped" by 3D Also my left foot surprisingly has some dead spots. I can feel a jab but I can't feel the buzz of a tuning fork.
Oddest was that I have mag something or other in my left eye. When I look to the left my left eye bounces around independently and crazily. I was totally unaware of this. The wunderkind was annoyed that the opthamologist hadn't noticed this. I didn't think much of the opthamologist so I wan't surprised by him missing it but I still have no idea what it means, other than another series of tests EMG's on December 4th.
I received an odd phone call. I'm being recruited to coach a semi-pro team. A couple of my former players are pushing hard for it.
I don't see much value to semi-pro football; at least not the values that I think I can teach. These are men and I still think I can teach young men and women best. I'll listen but I remain skeptical.

Saturday
For Thanksgiving I gave myself a present. I took my puppy to see Santa Claus. I laughed a lot.
' We saw a lot of great dogs and ran into two of the people who were in our first therapy dog class. The dogs and the people who fed them remembered my puppy and me. I didn't remember the people but I remembered the dogs. Maybe it was the other way around for my puppy.
Their male dog just finished two years of being cancer free after being operated for melanoma. He worked as a therapy dog at the VA hospital even through his chemo. He demanded that I pet him and was begging for a cookie. My puppy let him have my attention, which is not common with her.

Which means that I'm looking forward to this week of football. A chance to get lost in the reality and beauty of a game that reflects and magnifies life.
In the contest my friend leads with a 97-94, but as you can see justice is beginning to prevail and I am inching closer to total victory!!
Last week I was a magnificent 10 of 15 while my friend was a laughable 9 of 15. A lesser man would gloat and laugh at her ineptitude. A slightly better man would feel sorry for someone so clearly out of her depth but me, well, I stick to downright mean gloating.

My picks are in bold.

Miami at Carolina - I picked the Dolphins. I think their record is poor but they've been playing better football. They were hard hit when Chad Pennington went down but have adapted well. Carolina is a great inconsistent mess of a team, talented but unreliable.

Indianapolis at Baltimore - Manning pulled off another miracle to remain undefeated. The Ravens
Click images for desktop size: "Winter's Hunt" by Unknown won't be impressed. Their season is on the line. Oddly the defense has been incredibly inconsistent. They miss Rex Ryan as DC more than they thought. But their offense has been strong. The Colts freakish win over the Patriots is the sort that can give a team swagger through the rest of the season but it can also cause the wrong people to relax and just count on the miracle. With a new HC I'm figuring that will be the result and the hungrier, desperate Ravens pull one out at home. This is my Game of the Week but only because the schedule is pretty rotten.

Washington at Dallas - There's no heat for this game. The lack of heat actually favors the Redskins. The Cowboys record is adequate but loaded with wins against doormat teams. The Redskins are a doormat this season. This is a magnificent example of who cares.

Cleveland at Detroit - Cruddy Game of the Week. My Survivor Game. There are 839 "Survivors" left in the pool. Since you can only pick a team one time during the season you end up with a pretty decrepit looking selection of teams at this stage. I'm picking the lions because I don't think they have a chance to win any more games this season. The Browns truly stink. Brady Quinn as starting QB is a joke. The Browns D is off looking for condo's in Florida. Matt Stafford gives the lions O some life. If I can get past this week I actually have a chance at winning the Survivor game.

San Francisco at Green Bay - The 49er's are a team playing better ball then their record shows. The Packers have been incredibly inconsistent but their 5-4 record is better than they are. If Singletary can keep his team together and away from being discouraged they should smash the Packers.

Buffalo at Jacksonville - The Bills make me nervous here, not that they are any good but they're the first team this season to fire its head coach. Historically cruddy teams have won like 70% of their first games after the HC has been dumped. Otherwise Jacksonville and fiery Jack Del Rio should take it to them in a rout.

Pittsburgh at Kansas City - This is going to be an ugly game. And pretty uninteresting too.

Click images for desktop size: "Ten: My Target" by TCYC
Seattle at Minnesota - Adrien Petersen, Brett Favre.

Atlanta at New York Giants - The Giants are favored in this one? Old prejudices die hard. Matt Ryan is flying high. The Falcon ground game is potent while the Giants have been bumbling. Steve Smith is looking great as a possession receiver but they mix Plaxico Burress more than they want to admit.

New Orleans at Tampa Bay - The Saints are without Reggie Bush and Sedrick Ellis. That hurts. Dru Brees' mother committed suicide. The Saints might be ready to fall. The Buccaneers have been looking eerily potent. This game is their SuperBowl. I'm sticking with the Saints out of faith.

Arizona at St Louis - This should be a rout. If it isn't there should be an investigation.

San Diego at Denver - The Chargers are starting to peak, too early for the playoffs of course, while the Broncos are falling hard back to earth. They remind me of an old Chicago team (Remember Bobby Douglas - for your sake I hope not) that started the season 7-0 and finished 7-7 . . .

New York Jets at New England - This would not be the week I'd want to play the Patriots. Angry after the last second loss to the Colts (And I think Billichik's decision to got for it on 4th down was right. Even a great punt would not have changed the out come. The only question I have is not putting the ball in the hands of Randy Moss or Wes Welker). Tom Brady is going to turn buzz saw and looking to put his foot on someones neck. The shambolic Jets defense are going to be the poor guys out there.

Cincinnati at Oakland - The brilliant play of Carson Palmer and Chad Ochocinco on offense and Keith Rivers and Rey Maluga on D will keep this one entertaining. A new QB for the Raiders isn't going to be anywhere near enough.

Tennessee at Houston - I wouldn't have thought it possible but Vince Young is pulling the Titans together. The Texans are trying and get Steve Slaton back this weekend. This one has the potential to be entertaining especially watching Brian Cushing chase Vince Young down.

Philadelphia 34 at Chicago 35 - The Eagles shouldn't miss Brian Westbrook much, they've got plenty of weapons. I'm picking the Bears at home because Jay Cutler seems to follow up horrific performances (5 picks last week) with stellar jobs on his next outing.

Posted by David at 12:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Orangeness" by LawnElf Its been another exhausting week. Being sleepy is my natural state.
I work and go to physical therapy. That's about it. All I can handle. Oh, and fight with the Canadian government.
Physical therapy has entered that stage of really doing me some good, but that means a whole lot of pain.
I do get excited about the improvements. Its hard to tell anyone about it because they're so small but important. I can reach in my front pocket without squealing. I can put my wallet in my back pocket and not have to do a 5 minute twirling dance to get it out. I can brush my hair with my right hand.
My shoulder blade has finally separated from the rib cage. That was hard. Now there's a dull burning pain surrounding my shoulder blade that intensifies when I do the 3 exercises to keep lifting it back to normal.
For the rotation which was the most damaged because of what the cops did to me, I have to stand with my hand braced waist high on a door jamb. Then I simply turn. I hurt myself pretty badly doing this.
I like my physical therapist, we talk about martial arts films and various techniques for strengthening thigh muscles in kids. He takes me seriously and often starts our visits by telling me the results of his research into one of my more difficult observatory drills. But he doesn't remember what kind of maniac I am. Like most of us when we like someone we assume they're sane and more like ourselves than anyone could actually be.
Assuming I'm sane is risky and foolish.
When I was doing the rotation drills I'd put all my weight into it. More strength means faster recovery, right? I did them until the pain was nearly causing me to black out, pushed right through all the pain and when the soreness didn't leave I continued with the next set on schedule and just
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by C Coles Phillips kept pushing through the soreness and pain.
Turns out that's pretty stupid.
I'm supposed to do the twists with light pressure and only to the point of where the pain starts. The pain is supposed to stop as soon as I release the pressure. He was incredulous that I was doing them my way. I was incredulous that he didn't tell me not to hurt myself . . .
The soreness went away pretty quickly doing them his way but i don't think I'm seeing as rapid a result as I was with my methods.
Today I raked up the leaves in the yard and now my shoulder feels only tired without a trace of soreness. Two months ago it would have been an impossible chore.
One bright spot of the week was that the Apple Store exchanged my retro keyboard for a brand new one with no hassle or skullduggery. As distasteful as I find a lot of Apple's new business techniques and their shoddier manufacturing they keep winning me back with the superb customer service.
Like I still love my 2nd hand iPod Touch (what a clumsy name). I like the little casual games, I love finding wifi hotspots and checking my email anywhere. I like reading news feeds and while I'm on the bus or waiting for the transportation to pick me up from the doc's I like watching movies on it. "Riot in Cell Block 11" was totally cool. And it plays music. Its become an indispensable part of my life. I can see wanting an iPhone but not while its tied to At&T or, rumored, Verizon and their exorbitant fees and slip shod service.
The other delight is and will always be my puppy. She's dealing okay with the rescue dog. He's too aggressive with her and resists learning
Click images for desktop size: "Brigette Bardot" how to play "properly".
One of the neighbors commented that my puppy was the most elegant lady like dogs she'd ever seen. She said my puppy always acted with grace . . . which I sort of doubt but I don't mind that being the public perception of her.
One of the traits of her breed is their sensitivity and their memory. I've never struck, swatted, kicked or struck her. It sickens me and enrages me when I see someone strike a dog, almost as much as it does if it were a child. But my puppy reacts to harsh words like they were knives cutting her flesh.
I fell asleep and forgot where this was supposed to be heading . . .
Anyway, while we were out for our walk today we stopped into a drugstore. I lashed my puppy to a garbage can so I could see her through the door and make sure no one messed with her. While I walked past the counter a dark voice barked at me, "COACH!"
It was one of the kids I coached when he was in high school. As I think he was voted the student most likely to get 10 to 20 years I was pleased to see that he was working. At first I thought it was a cruddy job he had but then decided it was at least a better job than the one I had . . .

Click images for desktop size: "Indian Camp" by Charles Russell He came form behind the counter and asked me, not how I was doing or some such but, "Hey, where's Coach Puppy?"
I told him that she was outside. He said, "Yeah, I wouldn't mind but the manager probably get upset if she came inside, but heck, she's the Coach!"
We went out together and bought her inside. She seemed to remember the kid and probably asked if he'd been scoring any TD's. He scratched her butt which pleased her. They talked while I got the few things I went in there for.
While we walked he told me how he still lived with his grand mother. He also told me something I didn't know. His grand mother had been in the hospital with a heart attack. She'd been one of my puppy's patients. He said she still tells people about the black dog who'd come and peek around her door to see if she needed any doctoring.
He said that he can always make her laugh by telling her some of the stories about the doctor dog being his football coach.
I'm always proud of my prim little puppy but sometimes it is nice to be reminded of why.

Last week I was a stunning 8-5 in my NFL picks . . . my friend was a mediocre 9-4. I think she has hacked the server and manages to change her picks, not enough to attract any attention from the guys running the game, just enough to beat me!
Despite her ability to cheat I still feel confident that this week I will over take her and prove my innate superiority in all things football!

My picks are in bold.

Washington at Atlanta - This is my Survivor pick this week. There are only 14,000 still left in this contest! The Redskins are a manic depressive mess. The Falcons are facing being eliminated from the play offs if they don't win. Easy choice.

Arizona at Chicago - The Cardinals are schizo's. Their stunning win over the Giants was a fluke or a
Click images for desktop size: "Orion Nebula" by NASA pure revenge game. They're bewildering. The Bears are a good enough football team that are still working out how to play together, the defense without super stud Urlacher has joined up to play fierce football while the offense still has not adapted to its new super stud diabetic Jay Cutler. They seem to take a step forward then get flustered. They'll need a complete game to handle the Cardinals. There's no reason to think they won't pull it together.

Baltimore at Cincinnati - Game of the Week. And it should be a burner. The Ravens brutally exposed the Denver Broncos last week while the Bengals have discovered defense and inspired play from Carson Palmer. While Chad Ochocinco has been spending the week bragging on what he plans to do to the vaunted Raven's D while NOT giving them any bulletin board material! This is pretty much a must win for both teams and both teams are capable of mashing the other. That certainly excites me! I'm picking the Bengals for no real good reason. I just love the way Palmer and Ochocinco play.

Houston at Indianapolis - The Colts' defense is an injured shambles and as much as I dislike the Texans and their football I can't ignore they've been throwing up a lot of points lately. The Colts have Manning and there's nothing in the Texan scheme that makes me think they can stop him. This is a game of the week contender, a contender because I don't much care for games that are evened out due to injury.

Kansas City at Jacksonville - Cruddy Game of the week contender. No Larry Johnson, who I met as a high school footballer and thought the world of, for the Chiefs so an underpowered O gets weaker. Their D is incapable of getting any worse. The Jaguars are under achieving and totally exposed. Jack Del Rio won't let them lose to a vastly inferior opponent.

Miami at New England - I think the Dolphins' running game will gouge the Patriots D for plenty. Ted Ginn has finally shown he has some talent but I can't see him getting any TD's against the Pat's special teams. The Dolphins can hang with the Patriots now but they don't have much to answer Brady, Welker and Moss.

Green Bay at Tampa Bay - This is one of those boring games that is killing the NFL. The Packers are a team and the Buccaneers are a discombobulation wearing jerseys. If the Buc's do win I'd demand a congressional investigation. Too many of those guys seem to think sports are more important than things like health care anyway.

Carolina at New Orleans - The Saints are undefeated! The Saints. The Panthers are playing far
Click images for desktop size: "Dracula's Daughter" by Universal below their talent. They'll step up their game against the Saints but I hope it's not enough.

Detroit at Seattle - Cruddy Game of the Week. The Lions haven't won a road game since the Great Depression. They don't deserve it but the Seahawks should win this one, probably on a last second field goal.

San Diego at New York Giants - Two of the seasons great under achievers. I wouldn't be surprised to see the two teams trying to lose this one. Might be entertaining.

Tennessee at San Francisco - the 49er's will make the Titans rethink starting Vince Young. Mike Singletary has them playing inspired football far above the talent level to that point where the high level IS the talent level. I wouldn't be surprised to see Kerry Collins reappear.

Pittsburgh at Denver - One of those solid games that used to make up the bigger part of the NFL schedule. The Steelers' strength on offense is pretty well nullified by the Bronco D, but the Bronco's O will be negative oxygen reserve against the Steelers' D. It should get pretty smash mouth and close. I have to trust Rothliesberger in the close ones. This one and Dallas and Green Bay are the only away teams I picked this week!

Dallas 22 at Philadelphia 21 - The Eagles Dismantling the Giants last week doesn't make any where near as strong an impression as them getting manhandled by the Raiders. Dallas is a mediocre football team that was designed to beat the Eagles. I'm willing to let that play out.

Posted by David at 4:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Happy Halloween" by Julia Nikolaeva I'm not feeling too great. Mostly in my head and heart. My body feels mostly like it always does.
It was a pretty good day. Got things done that pleased me. But then the letter A stopped working on my keyboard and that started the slide.
I couldn't avert the slide, even when I discovered the keyboard is still under warranty. Now I just have to get it there to exchange it. Another task. Just means that's the keyboard wasn't the root of the issue, just the last straw sort of thing.
My job is pretty horrible. The hours make it worse. Not only am I always exhausted but I deal with the degenerate gambler types. They're not very nice or polite. After the first week they're not interesting. Their differences are all overwhelmed by their identical compulsion. This is pretty low rent legal gambling so I guess I shouldn't have been distressed to discover the compulsion is something for nothing. Most of my "customers" don't have jobs. They describe sitting in a chair and clicking a mouse to make the electronic slot wheels to spin as hard work. Maybe it is. I tried it and found it boring.
There's not even a rush. For this to be legal, and right now it is legal, this is a sweepstakes. The winnings are determined as soon as you sit down and log in. The slot machine aspect is simply a reader to hook you in. What they spend hours doing could be accomplished in about 10 seconds. But then they wouldn't keep spending money.
People do win, the biggest winner was $9,000. It doesn't really matter to me. These people don't tip. They run me ragged but it never dawns on them to tip. Their attitude is that it's my job and they feel no need to show gratitude or pay a gratuity. So I clean up their messes, protect them from the predators because it's my job and I'm paid plenty . . . I've heard them say often, "Don't pick up the garbage. It's his job, let him do it."
The women are almost all enormously fat. They don't want to sit on the toilet seat so they crouch
Click images for desktop size: "Death" by Unknown sort of over it but they are so big they mainly urinate all over the floor and then complain about how the bathroom stinks. I clean it up.
I bought three bags of Halloween candy. I figured it was too much for any trick or treaters. We got one here. So I was giving it away to some of the people. It made me feel human. One person said thanks. Mainly they wanted to exchange it for something better. Most came up and demanded their free candy. Nearly all complained about the selection . . .
It wears you down. When they lose they get nasty. And I'm the only one around who they're pretty sure won't slug or shoot them for being nasty.
And I need a job. I make enough to be broke. I'm still far enough down the poverty scale to still be eligible for food stamps and free medical. Without a job I'd be even more lost.
Then there's my continuing war with governments. I wonder why I suddenly became so important that they need to fight so viciously. There's nothing bureaucratic or professional about it. Its just cruelty. Ridiculously I understand it. People want me to fight. I want to fight for justice, just like in the comic books but I am so weary.
I miss my things. I never thought that I'd be one of those people that's defined by his possessions. I like my music. I like being able to watch football. I like my clothes. Maybe the broken keyboard reminded me that the only thing I have left is this computer. It keeps my music. It stores my movies. I watch them here now. It's not satisfying. Its hard to get lost in a story on a computer screen. At least it is for me. I keep checking emails.

Click images for desktop size: "Betty Hutton" I just feel beaten up. It will pass. Depression doesn't scare me. I'm not suicidal really. Never have been. But sometimes I get in these moods. Fortunately I have a good dog who loves me nearly as much as she loves her Kong, her ice cream, her treats, her food . . . I'm sure I'm in there somewhere.
The first time my puppy and I met she bit me! After being separated by the heart attack episode she snapped at me. We have that kind of relationship. She knows I'm depressed so she acts the clown. That's hard for her. She's a pretty beautiful dignified thing most of the time.
I can't be depressed too long. If a cure consists of more than a kiss and scratching her butt or chasing her for the Kong she gets confused. She needs to know that what she does works. She needs to know that I am okay. Its those traits in her that make her a great therapy dog and why the children love her.
Right now I smile because I think of how incredibly tickled she gets when she makes me chase her for the Kong. She is so overjoyed she looks like she could explode with joyousness. If she were human she'd have to sit down and laugh for 10 minutes while wiping away tears. Right now she's awakened and looks at me just long enough to make sure I'm okay. If I weren't she'd come over and doctor me, whether I wanted doctoring or not.

Click images for desktop size: "Dracula's Daughter" by Universal Pictures When I'm not here she spends most of her time waiting for me. That saddens me.
Halloween was fine. My favorite pet store is going out of business. I went to their last day sale and got some good bargains.
The crazy people on the corner, the ones who over decorate their house. (Spiders crawling up the wall, a graveyard with animated figures, giant cats and purple spiders, billowing smoke , music and sound effects - it almost sounds slick. It isn't. Its WalMart cheesiness run rampant) The husband dressed up as Leatherface and was chasing the trick or treaters with a toy chainsaw. It was enough of a show that the street was blocked with parked cars and kids waiting their turn to ask for candy and get chased.
They did this for themselves, not for charity or for profit but for the fun. Somethings are nice in small towns.
I went to the Chinese restaurant and spent my last 6 bucks on some Mu Shu chicken. When ever I get mu shu I always wonder why those pancakes are so valuable, I mean they give you a pint of mu shu and four pancakes!
I watched the USC-Oregon game on-line. It was pathetic but I'm still a Trojan. Always will be. It's okay to gloat over our worse loss in 8 years, cause its been 8 years and seven consecutive championships. We'll probably still go to a bowl game. It was a bad loss but that's all it was.

I don't feel much like going into great detail on my NFL picks this week. But so many people like to ridicule me over them it feels like it would be selfish to not make them public.
Last week I was 8-6. As usual I was pretty happy about losing half the games and flummoxed by the other 3. My friend somehow stumbled to identical record. Her cheating ways have stopped paying off! She remains five points ahead for the season. But you can sense that I'm about to make my move!

As always my picks are in bold.

Denver at Baltimore - Denver is not as good as their 6-0 record . . . which is probably one of the
Click images for desktop size: "Fashion Plate" by NFL Films ridiculous things my friends like to hear me say. The thing is that the Broncos think they are a perfect tam and that kind of belief very often works. The Ravens are a lot better than 3-3 and they know it. Attitude and home-field advantage make me pick the Ravens.

Cleveland at Chicago - I'm sleeping through this one, if the Bears can stay awake they should throttle the dispirited Browns.

Seattle at Dallas - The Cowboys win last week was one of the games that bugged me. I don't like this team much at all. The SeaHawks are the new trademark of the NFL completely erratic.

St Louis at Detroit - Cruddy game of the year, perhaps the decade! I have no memory of what prompted me to pick the Lions. Who cares who wins. Maybe they can figure out how to tie.

Houston at Buffalo - The Texans have become the flavor of the month recently. They won two games they had no business winning and did it convincingly, I still think they stink. Their wins ar e more a product of the diluted NFL product than talent or skill. The Bills have looked surprisingly better, like they whipped the schoolyard bully and are now going after all comers. It should be interesting.

San Francisco at Indianapolis - I really like the 49ers and where they're going. They're playing good football and have a definite future except they lack a lot of talent. The Colts don't lack much of anything.

Miami at the New York Jets - The Dolphins played the game of their lives and instead of a win they ran into the Dru Brees, Reggie Bush thrasher. Incredible game, good enough to keep faith in the NFL. Can the JEts stop Ricky Williams? Probably not but I don't think the Dolphins can stop Mark Sanchez and the hot dog!!

Oakland at San Diego - My Survivor Pick of the week. Not chosen cause the Chargers are so good but because the Raiders are so bad.

Jacksonville at Tennessee - The Jaguars are starting to play good football while the Titans are 0-6 and bringing head case and USC destroyer Vince Young back as starting QB. So I'm picking the team in disarray because it just feels like them winning would be the better story.

Carolina at Arizona - After their great win at New York last week it's a sure bet they won't be ready
Click images for desktop size: "Face" by MK20 to lie down against the enigma team that is the Carolina Panthers.

Minnesota at Green Bay - For some reason the big story if Brett Favre returning to Green Bay and Lambeau Field. I think the big story is that they're coming off a loss and Adrian Petersen ain't happy.

Atlanta at New Orleans - Game of the Week. The Saints are undefeated . . . The Falcons are rising rapidly but the Saints are undefeated . . . A good one on Monday Night!

New York Giants 30 at Philadelphia 28 - Now we no longer have to hear about how the NFC East is the best division in football. They stink like the rest of them.

Posted by David at 5:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Bleed" by Janet Angus Once again my week has consisted primarily of recovering from work and falling asleep in the wrong places.
My job gets no better. At least it is a job. I work Midnight till 8 AM and I get at least 5 people a night wanting job apps. Since two thirds of those are gamblers I do wonder what money they are using to play with, but thats a different point.
The big point is at least it's a job. I get paid. I dislike it with an edged bitterness which I start each shift willing myself to forget. Gamblers appear to be rude, obnoxious schemers. I extend myself to be courteous to the point of unctuousness. About 1 in 20 respond with even a curt acknowledgment. When I pay them their winnings I get perhaps one thank you in 50.
The same way I'm often pleased that I don't drink or get high I'm pleased that I don't have any impulses that demand I gamble. Just lucky I guess.
I realized this week that I had some long stretches where my shoulder did not hurt! I'd get the stabs if I used to much or twisted it around behind me but just sitting or walking I had no pain. It was a unique experience. I also noted I have much more use of the arm, I'd guess and my physical therapist agrees, that I have about 60% use of my right arm!
I was feeling so good I made the mistake of telling my physical therapist about it. I forgot an absence of pain is merely an excuse for him to hurt me even more. I've gotten4 more exercises to do each day. They're simple enough and hurt like hell but getting my arm back is so worth it.
The orthopedist came into my Friday session and checked me out. I have a knot in my trapezius about the size of a baseball. When I'm lying down it hurts like a son of a gun when I move my head. The doc just pointed out that its one of the worst of the "defensive" damages I've done to myself trying to cope with the pain of my shoulder. The main focus in my physical therapy now is trying to
Click images for desktop size: "Candles" by Unknown loosen up the shoulder tendons so I can get full mobility back one day, bringing the atrophied muscles back and eliminating the damage done by the cop torture and my trying to cope with the agony of the shoulder for 8 months.
The general feeling from the two doc's and the physical therapist that another 6 months of me trying to survive (like the Canadian doc insisted I do) would have resulted in the loss of the arm. I still have to see a neurologist to assess how much damage I've done to my ulnar nerve. They thinks its possible if not probable that I've damaged it in more than one place. A third of my right hand is still numb. I've gotten used to that.
The other big event was getting my monthly supply of drugs. A pain. There's one that isn't covered under any of the plans I'm on. Means I have to buy it from the drugstore at full price. Careful shopping has me getting it at $32 for a month's supply. It's not covered because it's a medicine for heart attack victims that is pretty well restricted to leukemia victims. This confuses me. It feels like I'm being penalized for being too sick or something. It becomes a niggling complaint when two of the drugs I seriously need to survive, Plavix for my heart and Lantus for the diabetes (a 24 hour insulin) might become unavailable. The program that got these for me has run out of funding. I might be stuck.
I have about 3 weeks of Plavix left and about 3 months of inulin in hand.
I got to speak to a curt nurse who is in charge of the program. She wasn't too helpful other than they were trying. I'll have to shop around. I know they're expensive. This month the drugs cost me $180 which is a lot but still a great deal. I can almost afford it.
While I was picking up my drugs you can't help but notice that the economy (unemployment and low wages) combined with inept health care has packed out the clinic I depend on for survival. As in it normally takes me about 10 minutes to go in, pay for and pick up my drugs. This Friday it took over two hours. Of course I fell asleep and missed them calling me by about 3 minutes. I got aggro and pushed to the head of a line and got it sorted right away. The workers all thought it was funny I had
Click image for desktop size: "Blackfeet Burning Crow Bufallo Range" by Charles Marion fallen asleep because I'd been standing.
My housemate took his new dog into the vet. He went to see my puppy's Dr K, which I felt was fairly cool. The new guy checked out fine. Dr K tried to talk my housemate into taking him to an obedience class. Don't think it took.
The new guy checked out fine except he had whip worm which is fairly contagious. I took my puppy's stool sample to this vet's office up by my work. I'd never take her there except in a psycho type emergency but to look at feces under a microscope I think they're fine.
They told me that she didn't have worms. I was glad for that. When I got home I was petting her head. She had this lump on her head I had been putting off to her tussling with the new guy. It wasn't a lump, it was a tick!
Since she uses Pfizer's Revolution (at about $45 a pop) she's not supposed to get ticks. I used alcohol to try and loosen it. I'm still worried that I got the entire thing out of her skull. I'm now terrified of her getting some nasty infection. For every inch of terror I have an equal amount of anger of Pfizer's product not working. Since Revolution is also supposed to prevent heart worm I'm agitated that it might have failed there too. I hate that I was duped into trusting a mega corporation, a company that blithely pollutes the water table and various other crimes against humanity. Why I would think that a company like that would do their best to protect my puppy makes me angry with myself.

Last week was a rough time in the NFL. I valiantly managed to
Click images for desktop size: "Angelia Jolie" struggle to a manly 8-6 record with my picks. My friend using arcane arts, blind luck and clearly some cheating went 11-3. I should point out 11-3 is not good enough to get a prize.
For the season she leads 63 to 58. For some reason she now thinks she can give me tips on football! She's even taken to sending me her picks so I can have a chance to change mine!
I might have to become a soccer fan . . .

As usual my picks are in bold.

Green Bay at Cleveland - The Brown's season continues to sink into the quagmire. They tried to look stout against the Bengals last week but it was still a defeat. Their season can be summed up by Brady Quinn, the former Notre Dame, has been squawking that his being benched for ineffective play will cost him millions in potential incentives . . . The Packers have not been very reliable this season but against the Browns all they really need to do is show up.

San Francisco at Houston - The Texans were surprisingly strong last week upsetting the Bengals.
Click images for desktop size: "Pin Up Art" by JW McGinnis Schaub threw 4 TD passes. I can't see him duplicating anything like that against Mike Singletary's 49ers, especially with them coming off a bye week. The idea of the 49ers being in first in the woeful West is the only thing I find interesting about this game.

San Diego at Kansas City - The Chargers looked pathetic in their must win game against Denver last week. They managed to all but eliminate themselves for the division championship. The Chiefs managed to win their first gamer of the season against the hapless Redskins which gives us the Cruddy Game of the Week. Week 6 is too early for a meaningless game in the NFL but here it is.

Minnesota at Pittsburgh - Game of the Week! Brett Favre, Adrian Petersen and a stout D have the Vikings undefeated. The Steelers can answer them on all fronts except they have nothing in the running game to compare to Petersen, who does? Troy Polamanu is back and looking full strength. The Steelers need him, without Troy I'd almost make this a lock for the Vikings. You have to figure the Vikings front four will knock Rothlisberger around some, not enough to stop him , but enough to keep it interesting, Hines Ward will destroy the Vike's secondary but Favre will return the favor. Dick LeBeau will scheme to stop Petersen but no one has yet. This has the potential to be a classic game. I can hardly wait. It feels like whoever has the ball last will win this one.

Indianapolis at St Louis - This is my must win Survivor game. A certain female football know it all isn't in the Survivor game any more . . . I'd feel sorry for the Rams. This has to be a low spot in their season, having to face an undefeated Colts squad that actually appears to be getting sharper and more confident with each week of play.

New England at Tampa Bay - If I didn't have friends in England I'd be opposed to the NFL tax deductible trip to the UK, but I'm pleased the kids get to see Tom Brady. This game is so unfair to the Bucs. The Patriots throw up 59 points. To have to face these guys at home is daunting enough but to give up even that little edge when you're a pretty inept team seems cruel.

Buffalo at Carolina - The Bills are banged up beyond belief, their stirring win over the Jets came at a high price. It could give them some sort of karmic edge, a lot of guys are going to get their chance to make an impact sort of thing . . . nah. The Panthers are healthy and should roll on this
Click images for desktop size: "Afterglow" by Maxfield Parrish one.

New York Jets at Oakland - I loved it when the pigeon decided to play special teams for the Raiders. Watching it fly downfield and keeps it lane was awesome. When the very forces of nature are with you, when the animal kingdom is rising up angry against the Eagles and Michael Vick it's a glorious thing. Sadly for the Raiders the Jets don't have that sort of nasty baggage, they just have a clear eyed rookie QB who's coming off his worst game as a pro. Sanchez needs a stellar game to keep his confidence up. The Jets defense will get a much needed boost of confidence facing a bumbling offense.

Atlanta at Dallas - This is a hard game to read. Could the Cowboys be as bad as they've looked this season? The Falcons are playing well enough to clearly expose them. The Cowboys running game will find it rough going against the Falcons front 7 which will put the game in Romo's hands. Only Falcon fans want to see that happen. Matt Ryan will continue to impress.

New Orleans at Miami - The Dolphins must be praying for a hurricane. That's the only thing they can do to slow down the Drew Brees Machine. The Saints defense matches up too well against the Dolphins O. I expect the Ricky WIlliams Wildcat will put up some points but there's no way it keeps up with the Saints' scoring.

Chicago at Cincinnati - One of the most interesting games of the week. Jay Cutler managed to lose the game to the Falcons almost single handedly. He's too good to do that two weeks in a row. The Bengals were either exposed or just had a bad day against a buzz saw in their loss to the Texans. So two talented teams with chips on their shoulders, both teams in bad need of a win to have a chance at the post season. Sounds like a game! I adore Carson Palmer and Chad Ochocinco. With Cedric Benson looking revitalized he's in a great position to make the Bears regret their less than stellar treatment of him. Revenge is a great way to win football games. This should be interesting and is only a Game of the Week contender instead of the Game of the Week because both teams are coming off of losses.

Philadelphia at Washington - What a stinker. And another game that is already close to meaningless. The most interesting thing will be seeing if a tornado hits the stadium and snatches Vick away to Oz. What a cruddy Monday night game.

Arizona 14 at New York Giants 27 - The Cardinals have yet to win on the East coast. With the Giants feeling exposed and brutal after having almost half a century hung on them by the Saints it's a bad time to be searching for an identity. Not my choice for a prime time game but its better than most of the schedule. Warner will keep it mildly interesting.

Posted by David at 7:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Stephen Youll Its been a long week. They all are, or at least seem to be. Lonely most of the time.A lot of things that seemed important became trivial or forgotten.
I'm just now shaking the cold. Two weeks. I felt congestion building up in my lungs. When I walked up the big hill at night it felt like pneumonia was going to win out for sure. Massive doses of Vitamin C seemed to do the trick there. I do not like the feeling of drowning on dry land.
The graveyard shift hours continue to weigh heavily on me. I remain just constantly exhausted, constantly in need of sleep. I keep dozing off like a narcoleptic. At least I don't drive. It would be scary if I did. My puppy has taken it upon herself to lead me places. She knows better than I do when I'm walking in my sleep.
My days off are spent exhausted while I try and give my body some time to heal so I can survive the coming week. Pretty creepy cycle.
Work is the same. It's a terrible job. I got another raise. That just seems odd to me. Money doesn't make me hate the job any less. Two more people have quit. Couldn't take the abuse from our customers.
I guess gamblers are abusive. It comes with being obsessed and unable to comprehend the rest of the world. I've snapped at a couple of them. They either apologize or else they get huffy and tell me how to do my job. Even old and crippled I can intimidate the latter group.
Also for reasons I can't comprehend all my fellow employees hate each other. They probably hate me too but like to talk to me and tell me how much they hate the others. Since we only see each other about 15 minutes day this just seems stupid to me and a huge waste of vehement energy. The main complaint is that the other emplyees won't do what they're told and the only reaction is nasty gossip. Stupid. See?
My physical therapist came back from his conference this week. I went in. Even though the sessions are doing me a lot of good the traveling there just wears me out even more. At this session I got two more daily exercises. I've gotten the two tendons in my shoulder loose enough to start working on the third tendon.
My shoulder blade has also gotten locked in and I have to loosen it. The new exercises are so
Click images for desktop size: "Supermom" by Unknown nothing looking but they are excruciating for me.
For the shoulder blades I have to put my hands against the wall and lock my elbows. I then have to raise my head and chest to the ceiling and then lower them while trying to raise the shoulder blades from the rib cage. When I do it right its electric. I seem to do them wrong most of the time.
The other requires a stick. I put one end in the palm of my hand and push it with the other hand as far back as I can stand, which is not very far.
My other personal high lights: I got a new pair of shoes, on sale; 90 bucks gotten for 40. I got a haircut - bad haircut. Amazon.com was for some unknown reason giving away the entire Mojo Nixon catalog! I like Mojo Nixon just enough to download his stuff for free. Further mystery: the stuff was only free in the US.
I got a couple of people asking me how I came to my conclusion of not wanting to work with the high school football team, especially since the coach said all the right things.
It might be difficult to explain even though it shines with crystal clarity in my mind. Every coach has certain things they want to do, would love to do with their teams on the field. They have a vision. In the NFL you get to draft players to fulfill that vision, you get to sign free agents to make it complete. It's the same way a conductor goes about hiring musicians for his orchestra.
In college ball the coaches and staff get to recruit players who they feel can help them realize their vision.Its only in high school football and below that the coach has little say in who is going to play for him. For me this is one of the challenges and the great beauties of
Click images for desktop size: "Mike Tyson" this level of football when seen only as a game; that the coaches have to adapt and change their philosophies and hence grow alongside their players as they envision and dream of ways to win together. It's a different relationship to the players and to the game.
I like a wide open game. Wide splits from my O-Line, a punishing FB and a zippy RB with a QB who can rifle the ball 30 yards down field on every play. Except you seldom get the players who fit the mold.
Some coaches stick to their diagram and they can teach well enough to win and every five or six years they produce a champion. But they still have to adapt if only begrudgingly.
I've had a 5'2 135 pound full back. I've had O-Lines where the heaviest player was my 180 pound tackle. I've had QB's who had no accuracy further than 20 yards down field. But we all worked together and figured out ways to win.
The Wing T formation, of which the present day Wildcat formation is a variation, was invented by a coach who had small players and no defense. He came up with it as a way to control the ball and the clock, forcing a low scoring game and giving his kids a chance to win. The spread and the veer
Click images for desktop size: "Swan King" by Michael Parkes were invented for the similar reasons.
Now the coach I was talking to liked to run a no huddle offense. That can be a very pretty thing to see and to execute. It requires experienced players who know the game well enough to react and play almost on pure reflex. Payton Manning and Tom Brady showed you can play an entire game that way. It increases your time with the ball and wears a defense down. But if you don't have experienced players the nu huddle is a brutal thing to see, ugly and sad. You have QB;a making wrong reads, and WR's running wrong routes and worst of all you have O-Linemen hesitating instead of attacking.
In football one-tenth of a second is the difference between a TD and a tackle for a loss. That's why speed is so important. As are reflexes. A football player who has to stop and think even for a tenth of a second is a guy who is still standing there thinking while the play is over.
That is exactly the play I saw that night. The Head Coach was locked into running a no huddle offense even though he had no personnel that were equipped or ready to run it. That means that the coach cared more about his dreams and ambitions than he did about the players on the field. The team is 0-8. That kind of record breeds weird things in young men's minds. Some forget about winning and just try and enjoy being on the team. Most begin to doubt themselves and their worth as players and as human beings as they see themselves failing miserably at executing their coach's orders. I think that the coach is giving orders that shouldn't have ever been given.
That he wasn't willing to scrape the no huddle and work instead on executing his plays, in teaching how to figure the assignments and how to attack the assignments tells me the truth behind the words.
I could never work with a coach who places his tiny dreams over the hearts and ambitions of his players.
That's all there is to it really.
My puppy remains. She's doing well on her diet. She looks beautiful. To me she never stopped
Click images for desktop size: "Conan and Red Sonja" by John Buscema looking beautiful.
Her life has taken some upset again, not in a bad way, but upset is upset. My housemate got a new puppy from the shelter. He moved in on Tuesday I think.
He's a rottweiller mix. He's pretty goofy and lovable. My puppy hates him. He's taken to "marking" everything she has, my bed, her bed etc. He gets too rambunctious and when my puppy tries to get him to back off he gets vicious with her. He wants to play but he's too young, too wild and too big!
He's bitten me a few times, play bites but they hurt. He doesn't back down when you yelp like most dogs. He needs training but for right now he needs to realize he's no longer in the shelter. He was there for 6 weeks and before that . . . He was a surrender but his owners couldn't even be bothered to bring him into the shelter, they called the dog catcher and told him to pick it up or they'd kill it.
When he calms down he's pretty nifty. My puppy still hates him but she's willing to try playing with him and just turning her back on him when he doesn't act "right".
He'll be fine. I just hope that the two of them can learn to play together. They both need rough and tumble playmates.

Last week I was an uninspiring 8-6 in my NFL picks. Well, uninspiring to someone with my lofty standards perhaps but to someone who was, oh, shall we say 7-7 a record of 8-6 must look very lofty and impressive indeed.
My friend was 7-7 last week. Her cheating finally caught up with her! She still leads for the season 52 to 50 . . . I believe she hacked the website but it would be beneath me to say that until I get the evidence. I make no accusations but I point out that she is leading and keeps beating me week in and week out. I only ask how is this possible?
I read a lot of columnists agreed with me that last weeks NFL schedule was the dreariest ever. This weeks is no better really.
The biggest news is that the NFL actually decided to not let an avowed racist own an NFL team. Rush Limbaugh, who describes the NFL as watching the Bloods vs the Crips, wanted to buy the St Louis Rams. A few players said that they would refuse to play for a boss who hated them because of their skin color. Fair deal.
As badly as Goodell has responded to the lack of parity in the league and his bumbling handling of Michael Vick at least he was quick to respond and refuse Limbaugh to purchase an NFL team.
Limbaugh, of course, blames the blacks and the liberals. He never apologized for being a racist. He never explained it or claimed it was said merely to pump up his ratings. He was appalled that he didn't have a right to buy a team and make it all white, I guess.

My picks are in bold.


Click images for desktop size: "Sea Creature" by Evegeny Houston at Cincinnati- Last week Carson Palmer's win against the Ravens was a thing of incredible beauty. They played a classy well ordered game against a what appeared to be a stronger team. The only way the woeful Texans win is if the Bengals fall asleep and relax against a mediocre opponent.

Detroit at Green Bay - This is saved from being a cruddy game of the week contender by Aaron Rodgers spirited play and that the Packer defense hasn't curled up and died. Like all .500 teams the Packer's main problem has been consistency. They should be able to put together a pretty complete game against the Lions. The Lions have improved a lot since last year but not enough to pose anything other than an upset threat. The win against Washington has sharpened the NFL, no one will over look them again.

St Louis at Jacksonville - Cruddy game of the week contender. As the team at the center of the Rush Limbaugh fiasco, well, a major distraction is what this woeful team needs. Anything would be better than thinking about the quality of football they're playing. The Jaguars are one of those joker teams playing the elite teams well while messing up with everyone else. It would take an amazing amount of screw ups to lose to this Rams team.

Baltimore at Minnesota - Game of the Week Contender. The Ravens two losses were beautiful things, games that bought out the best in their opponents. They played sterling football and got beat via legendary efforts. This is still a great team but they've yet to rise to the level that lets them produce those super human efforts themselves. Meanwhile the Vikings are making the Bret Favre acquisition appear to be a genius move. Adrian Petersen is still the most fearsome back in the league and Favre is just the guy who can make a defense pay when it tries to misalign to contain the running threat. The Viking D is playing up to expectations which is just good enough. In Baltimore I'd pick the Ravens but in the Vikings DomeI have to go with Favre and Petersen.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Al Moore
New York Giants at New Orleans - Game of the Week. Two undefeated teams. Both with attitude. The Giants are blue bloods, a team expected to win and the Saints, a team that got famous for having it fans show up wearing bags over their heads. Drew Brees is an elite QB and flanked with Pierre Thomas, Reggie Bush and a vengeful minded ex Giant in Jeremy Shockey, they produce one of the most potent and pretty offenses in NFL history. And the Saints Defense is suddenly looking fierce and serious. John Vilma has finally become the LB he was expected to be. The Giants O has been solid, good running game, Eli Manning has been consistent and his passing attack has barely noticed the lack of high quality receivers. Their D is slightly off looking but hasn't really been challenged yet. They'll be challenged today for sure. This should be business as usual for the Giants while the Saints are looking to be taken seriously. Normally I'd pick the business like team but this time I want the Saints to win so badly I scarcely care. This is a pick for my heart.

Cleveland at Pittsburgh - This is my survivor pick of the week. Only 2,993 people still in the Survivor contest. I wonder if the teams will wear those horrible throwback uniforms this week. Do they serve Rolling Rock in Three Rivers? I always think of that as Pittsburgh's beer. Its probably some corporate NFL approved beer. I think my shoelace is untied. And that's the more interesting things that cross my mind when thinking about this game.

Carolina at Tampa Bay - Cruddy Game of the Week contender. Maybe the Panthers are getting it together, I mean they finally won one . . . Their defense is a gawdawful mess which matches up well with the gawdawful Buccaneer offense. I expect a lot of Cadillac Williams up the middle . . . I have no idea what the major talent on the Panthers' O will do. Not much from past experience. Which is okay because there's not much the Buc's can do to stop much of anything.

Kansas City at Washington - Cruddy Game of the Week. I'm picking the Chiefs because the Redskins are just too appalling to believe. How did they win 2 games? The Chiefs can't be as bad as their record insists they are. Can they?

Philadelphia at Oakland - There's talk of arresting the Raiders HC for punching one of his assistants . . . which is more hitting then the Raiders are doing on the field. If the Eagles lose this one they should force Vick to go apologize to the dogs he refused to visit (jerk) while the rest of the team should seek anominity by opening up a record store across the bridge in Berkeley.


Click images for desktop size: "Smokers" by Unknown Arizona at Seattle - In the papers, on Monday morning this game might look more interesting then it will be to watch. Hasslebeck has the Seahawks looking respectable while the Cardinals are committed to making last years Superbowl run look like a pure fluke.

Tennessee at New England - Here are two underperforming teams. At least the Patriots have looked solid. The Titans looked good in their season opening day loss and then have proceeded to totally disintegrate. Tom Brady's getting more and more on stride and his supporting cast is getting healthier. The Patriots O-Line is looking cracked and suspect but that won't be much of a problem against the Titans. I'd look for the Patriots to fatten up here and get completely well and confident.

Buffalo at New York Jets - After a record setting 3 wins reality hit Mark Sanchez hard with one loss where he looked terrible and another loss where the Jet defense was inept. Sanchez sent out a tweet last night asking opinions on what movie he should watch. (Hangover, Angels and Demons, Terminator, Funny People, Public Enemies or Star Trek) Nothing fills me with confidence more than a relaxed QB, At home against a sketchy Bills defense Sanchez should completely on track. Trent Edwards and Terrell Owens have not looked very good. Marshall Lynch may have hit a wall in his career. They shouldn't pose many threats for the Jet D.

Denver at San Diego - This is a good intriguing game. The Bronco's have a jaw dropping looking record put together with fluke plays and the leagues strongest home field advantage. Are they real? This is a solid test in their division. The Chargers are 2-2 even while Philip Rivers is looking pure elite and near flawless. This is do or die for both teams and the best Monday Night game in ages. I'm looking for the Bronco's to possibly getting exposed on national TV while the Chargers look to shine on the big stage.

Chicago 21 at Atlanta 20 - This is a good mid level game, like the type that should fill the NFL schedule (instead of all the cruddy games dominating the schedule now). I've flip flopped on this one a lot. It's a good game to think about with Jay Cutler and Matt Ryan and two solid defenses. Neither team has much of a sustained running attack so it's going to be an aerial fantasy. I think Cutler has a slight edge with his less than stellar receivers which includes the enigmatic but incredibly explosive Devin Hester. And this is one game where special teams could be a huge factor in which case the Bears have it all over the Falcons.

These picks are for amusement and ridiculing only any other use is just kind of foolish don't you think?

Posted by David at 3:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Look Deep" by Unknown My puppy and I are really back to normal; CONSTANT BICKERING.
Wouldn't have it any other way.
She is still too protective of me but she's settled in nicely.

My housemate has decided to get a new dog. His passed away about 6 months ago. She was a good girl.
I went to the pound with him a couple of times. I thought almost all the dogs were pretty special for one reason or another. He picked two, went and spent time with each of them in these little visitor "cells". Then we took the big step of taking my puppy to meet his final choice, a male rottweiler mix, somewhere between 6 months and 9 months old. He's a handful.
My puppy didn't like him. She wouldn't, especially when I'm around. It will be fine. She's been around fosters and other dogs most of her life. She'll bully him and then decide he's worth playing with. The point of the meeting, in my mind, was to make sure he didn't try and savage her. My puppy thinks she's a great fighter but . . .
I managed to talk the person showing us the dog to let us take them both on a walk around the property. It went well, I thought. We even managed to have a chance encounter with the other dog my housemate had picked out. It made for a pleasant day.
Today he went and filled out the adoption papers, paid the fee. The new dog should be moving in sometime between Wednesday and Friday. Coolness.

I still have a cold. It's the reason I'm not supposed to catch colds. The cough is irritating but not debilitating.

The coolness is that I got a second hand iPod Touch. I like it a lot. Cost me $75, so far works fine. I
Click image: "Neat and Tidy" by Major League Baseball got a raise at work so this was my treat . . . actually I just wanted one. I like being connected on the WIFI but its pretty obvious that having an iPhone and 3GS connections would be incredible and incredibly expensive. I'll stick with this and just hope for miraculous hot spots. Since I have WIFI at work it means I can answer emails and stuff at will instead of hoping the owners fix the rickety lap top we have at our disposal.

The WIMAX from ClearWire is pretty paradoxical. It went out, the modem wouldn't connect. I called and was told that it was because I would have to move to their Clear service which is 5 meg down and 50K up. (50 k up is painfully slow, 5 meg down is okay). I had to wait 3 days to get the new modem. When I got it they hooked up fine but there was a weird charge on my card. I called again and got an apology and a credit, 3 days later, for the $25. Curious.
I was reservedly happy with the Clear service, even though I thought this was a lot of grief for a service that wasn't a month old yet. Until I got an email telling me I was using the service too much and they were going to cut me off or charge me more . . . So I'm not allowed to use the bandwidth they give me? YOW!
This isn't going to work out for sure. Hammering my debit card with two incorrect charges for some unknown reason, cutting me off for 3 days, then say that I'm using the service more than anticipated is kind of nutso. They claim the service agreement covers excessive use but that seems crazed to me. I'm paying for a service that I can't use? Great googa mooga. What a great idea for a business, selling you stuff you're not allowed to use.
WIMAX is a totally cool idea but Clear or ClearWire are jerks and not a trustworthy company from my experience.
Back to looking for a dry loop dsl provider.

I still don't have a TV but thanks to friends I got to see an mkv fie of the USC-Cal game. Very interesting. I'm impressed and dumbfounded by turns. The greatest disappointment for me was the O-Line. I expected them to be monsters and they've looked merely competent. Too much talent to
Click images for desktop size: "Art and Beauty" by Robert Crumb not overwhelm.
Matt Barkley doesn't look as good as the hype. I know his shoulder must still be sore but he lacks the confidence at weird times. Maybe with Ronald Johnson coming back for Notre Dame the deep threat will let him open up his game.
I'm incredibly unimpressed with Jeremy Bates as a play caller. Way too much NFL fear play calling. College ball is about being loaded on faith and hope and looking to a player to step up and perform a miracle. It's not about making the "safe" call and prevent defenses.
Still this is a very good exciting team I feel proud of.

I went and saw the worst football game of my life on Friday night. Very poor. It made me sad as the kids were pretty typical and totally willing to lay it all out there.
I got to talk to the HC and they're interested in having me as an assistant. He said all the right things but when I watched the game I realized I could never work for him.
The team is 0-8 for a reason, and it's not the talent of the kids. The HC had implemented a no huddle offense. You could see hesitation at the line as the kids attempted to remember over complicated assignments. The no huddle is a very cool thing if you've got the personnel. It was obvious that this isn't the case. It was just an ego thing playing to the HC's fantasy and ignoring the talents and weaknesses of the kids.

Click images for desktop size: "Frank Sinatra" You have to lead kids and the only way to do it successfully is to be their servant.

And to prove my deep understanding of the game of football; last week I was an impressive 9-5 in my NFL picks. I can bask in that for a moment. 9-5.
I forget what my friend got. I think I was 11-3 or something trivial. I have discovered how she cheats. She reads my picks and the ones I get wrong she chooses the other teams! How low and nearly contemptible. I don't think her score is official so even if she unofficially has 45 correct picks for the season my 42 exactly correct picks are assuredly official and hence count for far more. As usual my picks are in bold.

Cincinnati at Baltimore - The Game of the Week1 Carson Palmer is playing like the elite QB he is while the Bengal defense is playing way over their heads. They are looking like a play off team. This week they meet the team I still think has a chance to get to the SuperBowl. The Ravens are playing meticulous football. Their game against the Patriots showed they are in the oxygen thin stratosphere, a brilliant team playing at the level of their talent, executing with precision and playing with heart. The Bengals are playing with intensity and beauty as well, but theirs has the feel of street football, which is exciting and pretty in
Click images for desktop size: "The Outsiders" by Marvel Comics its own way. I'd love to see the Bengals win this one but the Ravens don't look like a team ready to lose two in a row.

Cleveland at Buffalo - This is an up year rating wise for the NFL. The good games are great but pretty few. This season offers up more stinkers every week than you can imagine. Like this cruddy game of the week contender. Buffalo has talent and Terrell Owens making waves. Cleveland has . . . Derek Anderson, who I still like and then . . .

Washington at Carolina - This stinker has the winless Panthers coming off a bye week. Did they use the time trying to pull the team together or did they grouse about their contracts? The Redskins are a mess but less of a mess than the Panthers. This one could end up 6-3 or 49-47. Either way it will stink.

Pittsburgh at Detroit - I watched Ben Roethlisberger on RAW this week. I was surprised at how much I liked him. He took it to the Chargers last week and the Lions don't have much to compare to the Chargers or to anyone except the Panthers and Buccaneers. This is almost a sure win.

Dallas at Kansas City - The rest of the world is finally twigging to the fact that Tony Romo is not a very good QB. The Cowboys look good as a power running team though and have enough good backs to keep inserting them, at least for now. The Chiefs . . . I feel sorry for them. They have some players and those players are surrounded by a bunch of practice squad stiffs who seem to have given up on the season already. The Cowboys are ripe for picking off but I've no confidence in the team rising to the occasion.

Oakland at New York Giants - Another slaughter. It doesn't matter whether or not Eli Manning plays. The Giant Defense will score enough points to beat the hapless Raiders.

Tampa Bay at Philadelphia - My Survivor pick of the week. McNabb looks on schedule to come back this week. Doesn't really matter as Kolb has the team looking pretty good. I just hope they keep Vick off the field. The Buccaneers have Cadillac Williams and then a prayer.

Minnesota at St Louis - The 4-0 team vs the 0-4 team . . . so much for parity. The most interesting thing about this game will be seeing if Adrian Petersen runs wild after being contained pretty well last week.

Atlanta at San Francisco - Game of the Week contender. The 49er's are playing beautiful football,
Click images for desktop size: "The Family" by Unknown the team rising above the individual players talent to being a cohesive force. The Falcons are a good team coming off a bye week. It will be an exciting match. I'm going with home field advantage to make my pick but I suspect it will come down to the final two minutes one way or the other.

Houston at Arizona - This is one of those white noise games. It will happen but no one really knows why. The most interesting thing to me is wondering when the Cardinals will let Matt Linehart into the game.

Jacksonville at Seattle - This cruddy game has some small interest in that I think the Seahawks can actually win. I'm a Jack Del Rio fan but his Jaguars, this season, are an incredibly inconsistent bunch. This is a long haul road trip to an unfriendly place. The Seahawks, what little I've seen of them have not looked like a bad football team. Matt Hasslebeck should return this game. They have a chance.

New England at Denver - I have no idea how the Broncos got to 4-0. Its like last season, somehow they get all the flukey breaks in the first half of the season before it all come crashing down. The Patriots don't really believe in flukes or luck. I watched the Raven game and this is a scrappy team. I like that. This could be a good game.

New York Jets at Miami - Mark Sanchez and the Jets ran into a buzz saw called New Orleans last week. They didn't look that bad. They have a chance to look good against a confused and confusing Dolphin squad. Sanchez tweeted right after the game something like "I made a lot of mistakes and cost us the game. I have to study and learn from them and not let them happen again." We'll get to see here. I'm counting on the cocky kid.

Indianapolis at Tennessee - At the start of the season this looked like it be a cool matchup, a changing of the guard as the Titans stepped up over the Colts. Instead it's a flash back to ten years ago with the colts being 4-0 and the Titans being 0-4. The Colts keep improving each week while the Titans keep blowing up and looking worse and worse. I can't see prime time making any changes in any of this.

These brilliant picks are for your amusement only. You might want to print them out and use them to light your fireplaces.

Posted by David at 3:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "5 cm" by Kabegami My puppy has finally recovered from her diarrhea. His distress was caused by some stupid government regulation that was supposed to protect somebody or other. Certainly it wasn't intended to protect her or to protect me.
That's the problem with governments; they always start off planning to fulfill some dream, some hopes but they always just turn into governments.
I wish I knew of something that could replace governments. I can't. I just know that what they all evolve into is something evil and wrong.
But we need them. We can't live without governments. We can't trust ourselves.
The rich are going to rip off the poor and the poor are going to steal from the middle class while the middle class kill each other. So we need laws to slow down the process, except for the rich of course.
We need roads, we need dams. Maybe not in the excess that some governments build them, but we need them. And governments naturally begin to feel important. Graft sets in. The cops become uniformed thugs. Laws aren't passed to protect the people but to protect the government.
Governments can tolerate enemies, but they seldom do. There are too many ways to kill. It's too easy to not simply kill.
When you're a government its easy to ignore the law, merely pretend it doesn't exist, selectively apply a law, or just rip through your enemies with impunity.
Governments, after a certain time, have no other function than to protect themselves. They will protect themselves to the point of war, sometimes gaining, sometimes losing but always winning by using the carnage of war to thin the crop of people who might be difficult and potentially pose a threat to the government.
It is not above a government to declare war against the people it was intended to govern.

Click images for desktop size: "The City" by Edward Hopper I don't like governments. I just don't have a viable alternative. Government is by nature corrupt and cruel. Its inevitable that it forget its original purpose and ignore its mandate All governments end up hurting more people than they protect, kill more than they aid. They perpetuate senseless appearing acts, but far from being nonsensical these acts are nothing more than carefully constructed props to insure the governments survival. It is a monolith comprised of desperately lazy people who thrive off the hard work of the people they govern.
There's little to like about a government. And little to choose between them. I was indoctrinated, like most of us, that democracy was cool and its flip was despotic tyranny, which was evil.
I was in Uganda during the reign of Idi Amin. The border guards were threatening and intimidating, brandishing automatic weapons. They forced us to change our money into Ugandan script and charged us a usurious rate.
In Uganda the people were genial. They seemed happy in our limited view.
When I returned home I was greeted by armed customs officers who charged me an insane duty on worthless knick knacks and souvenirs.
I'm sure there's a difference but its beyond me to see.
A few years ago, In London, I meet a Ugandan. He was a nice guy. He told me a story about Idid Amin. He didn't know the man. He
Click images for desktop size: "Elvis" agreed he'd gone insane but he still thought of him with an intense pride. He told me a story about Amin entering some sort of auto race. He was proud that his ruler was willing to go out and compete with his people. He was proud that his leader was willing to have fun with the "common" people. He thought that Amin was a man to be proud of.
In Canada I was recently held on demonstrably perjured evidence by a racist cop. I was illegally detained, my freedom quashed, treaties broken, I was tortured, nearly killed.
The Canadian government doesn't dispute any of this. They genuinely don't care or feel anything about this is extraordinary. So it seems safe to assume that this is all pretty natural to them, that "of course our cops lie and cheat, steal and kill. How else would you expect them to get anything done?"
Governments must all look the same when you're within them.
Governments do a lot of things. In 300 years America allowed slavery, abolished slavery then said we could no longer treat the slave's descendants as slaves but as human beings.

Click images for desktop size: "Petra Neimann" by Unknown Even setting aside the issue about how the hell we ever allowed slavery in the first place I have to think that 300 years to fix the stupid injustice is a bit out of line.
So. Governments are clunky, self serving, efficient only in the modes of harming their governed. And I've got no answers or alternatives.
People used to call me an anarchist because of the way I think. That's lazy thinking. I'm not into anarchy. Not into massive violence. Revolution only brings in a new government and starts the same old processes over and over again.
If anything I'm just a mean old cranky stoic existentialist, not the French kind of existentialist, the born in America kind. For politics I'd fall closest to the far right because I believe in freedom but I also believe most in community and that every person in the community has an obligation to each other. I just don't believe we need a government to enforce that obligation, which makes the label that fits closest: Humanistic Populist. That takes me out of the far right camp and makes me seem like a liberal, who are so ashamed of being liberal that they changed their name to progressive.
So I'm old, mean, crabby and easy to label. Not much but its me. I never promised to be deep.
Today I got to read my cardiologists report. No question I had a second heart attack. A doctor I don't know read the data and decided it appeared the second heart attack was induced by "criminal negligence at best but there are several indications that it was intentionally induced". That's when the Canadian government threw me into a Maximum Security prison for no reason other than they could. When they found out they made a mistake they decided they had to kill me. It went on to say that my surviving the second heart attack was beyond their medical expertise to explain. I know why though: stubbornness and meanness.
Logical thinking for the Mafia, the Nazi's and other despotic governments. They tried a few different ways to kill me. I don't think I fought back very hard. How could I?
Now a reasonable man would say that the Canadian government would be one to avoid at all costs. They struggle by with their rep and live their little racist government lives, destroying people,
Click images for desktop size: "Unknown" by Unknown humans for corporate greed and off kilter ideology.
Stay out of Canada boy. I don't have a private army or any large bore weapons so it would seem like good advice.
There wasn't much I liked in Canada. And a whole lot I didn't. Like their recent decision to allow two giants to control all communication in the country. Rah! Pretty 3rd world stuff. Idi Amin and Hitler both did similar and communicating with people was a lot more difficult back then so it was easier to control.
Normally I'd have no desire to ever see that white hell hole again. I've got enough to do just staying alive. I've fought countries before. You can win but its pretty costly and winning is counted as just slightly more than you lose.
As usual there's something that counters good sense and primal survival instincts. Give it a fancy name: Elevated survival instincts?
There are three reasons that trump common sense. Two of them are fuzzy; not in conception but in texture.
I saw my doctor Thursday. She was pretty horrified reading the cardiologists report. She said something that irritates me. "When I read your medical history I think that I should be talking to a shriveled up broken man but you still look so strong. You don't even look your age." I know how much I've aged and I think I look 30 years older than I looked 10 years ago.
She gave me the number of a lawyer while she explained that she couldn't begin to guess how much longer I'd live. I told her that according to the last actuarial table I saw I out lived my expectancy last year. She laughed and said, "you might live till your 90! No one can know. You're doing remarkably well. But with your medical history I don't see how anyone can promise you anything."
No promises.
So I don't feel it would be fair to ask my friends to move from hell hole Canada to the chaos of my my America. Not when I could keel over in a year or two or five or ten.
Maybe that's not my decision to make. At least on my own. That's a late night thought.
Governments and their borders. How can't you hate them.

Physical therapy is going slowly but it is going. Its been dark and rainy here and that's making my shoulder ache . . . Yeah, I'm now one them old galoots. "By crakey my shoulders aching. We be in for a big storm and a long winter!"
The physical therapist put the interact on my shoulder again. It registered a reading of 80. It should be 10. He said its not the worst he's ever seen. After the treatment it was down to 54. The numbers measure the rigidity and hardness of the muscles and ligaments.
On Friday I did swimming pool therapy. Underwater exercise reduces the pain of stretching and rotating busted up joints.

Click images for desktop size: "Dace On a Swing" by Unknown I felt pretty lame doing the incredibly simple exercises. I mean, the most difficult one was clapping! I had to do it underwater so that probably increases the difficulty by .05%
The pool is designed for therapy. Lots of ramps and stairways into it and it goes from 4'6" to 5'6" deep. It's a rough trapezoidal shape about 35 feet on a square.
As soon as I touched the water I had to try and swim. Nearly killed me. The arm squeerched up at the first stroke.
The new physical therapist yelled on me, "This is a therapy pool! No swimming!"
It felt good to be in water and I tried to fake it by just porposing to my destination. Porposing is swimming just using your legs.
The exercises were all ludicrously easy. But my shoulder was incredibly sore an hour afterwards. My range of motion has increased a good 9 inches forward, about 3 inches reaching up and about 1 inch reaching back. The rotation of the joint has hardly improved at all. Bot physical therapists say I have to extend the first two a bit more before we can start working on the rotation. For some reason I understand that.
On Monday I see the physical therapist and then my orthopedist.
I'm starting to get fed up with all the doctor appointments. Its starting to feel like when I had leukemia and doctors overwhelmed my life. That was trying to stay alive. This is just trying to live easy.
Between the doctors and my constant tiredness, caused by lack of sleep and my cruddy job, I feel that I have no life.
Last evening my puppy and I went to watch a high school football game. To ease her into it we went and watched from a hill overlooking the stadium. Aside from the end zone view of it they're excellent seats.
My puppy used to be an excellent football coach. Three years ago she got an award for being the team coach of the year. We've watched other games from this hillside. She was always very interested before. This time she showed no interest at all, except in some bushes and some perhaps edible garbage nearby.
I guess she's got no interest in coaching anymore. Maybe her award was the pinnacle of her career. How will she ever best that. I note that without sadness and only a twinge of nostalgia. She was tons of fun to have on the practice field but I wouldn't force it on her.
I bought her back home. My plan was to drop her off and then return to the stadium proper to meet the new head coach and to discuss whether there was anything I could do for the team this season.
What actually happened was we made the five minute walk home. I sat down in my chair to check e-mails and then woke up at 3:30 AM . . .
I gotta get a new job.

Posted by David at 12:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Enforced Modesty" by Unknown Eventful week, so far.
I guess the biggest impact was that on Wednesday I quit my job. The Security Guard who extorted 20 bucks from me and then broke 4 promises to repay me came into the office for a confrontation. It was strange.
He started it with, "I tell you everybody loves me!"
The only response is, "If everybody loves you why did you have to borrow money from me and tell me you'd have to hurt your dog if you didn't get it?"
He ignored that and went on to get nastier and more insane. He did the traditional jerk thing, exaggerated facts, made up others to fit his world view, ignored my facts and versions with insane justifications. It was wearisome.
I finally got to the point where I couldn't take it so I called my boss, at 1:00 AM and told him I was giving two weeks notice. The Security Guard grabbed the phone from me and said, "This is Sergeant Kayhlee." I stopped listening to him but I wondered why a security guard would insist on introducing himself by a make believe rank. I still don't have a real insight to that.
After that I put it out of my mind and finished off the night. Then at 7:00 AM my boss came in and asked me to reconsider. Since I spent the night feeling partially relieved and partially worried about having no job, figuring how long my final paycheck would last me, I said sure and retracted my resignation.
I hope I don't regret that too soon.

While staying with my housemate I've been cadging off of his Road Runner service. I really hate Time Warner and Road Runner. When it works it's barely adequate but then it doesn't often work, at least out here.

Click images for desktop size: "House Plans" by Unknown The service here is supposed to be 5 MB. They charge for it. I usually was able to connect at about 240 KB. But then the line would drop several times a day. Of course Time Warner insisted everything was running fine.
When I originally lived in this area I had fits with Time Warner. During one 6 month stretch I had 12 service calls and horrid service. Finally they sent a supervisor out. His response was to yell at me for stupidly having the wrong modem . . . the wrong cable modem as provided by Time Warner.
He replaced the modem two weeks later and things went fine enough, unless it rained or was too windy, but I accepted that.
What I didn't accept was that no credit appeared on my bill. It took about 16 phone calls and two months for Time Warner to give me 1 months credit for the six months of non-service created by their installing the wrong modem.
Now, the service here now was as bad as the service then.
Rather then war with an uncaring government supported monopoly I decided to try WiMax. I'm more interested in the LTE network but ClearWire is the only one with towers around here. Even though they are 4G they claim they can update to LTE with no problem.
For those who don't know WiMax is sort of like having a cellphone. It catches the internet from out of the air. All you need is a modem or a card and you have the internet anywhere you're within range of a tower.
So the only wires are a power cord and the ethernet cable going to your router or computer.
The only serious drawback to ClearWire in this area is the top speed of 1.5 Mbps. Crazily enough that is only slightly slower than the 5 Mbps Road Runner. And the ClearWire has yet to show a hint of going down.
I've been promised that within 3 months and probably sooner I'll be free upgraded to a 5Mbps modem and service with no increase in price.
A lot of the reviews talk about how happy they were with ClearWire at the start but then claimed that the service degenerated. The slightly slower speed and that worry keep me from completely enjoying or endorsing ClearWire.

Click images for desktop size: "The Little Big Horn" by Unknown If I get a MacBook Pro, as I plan for my next computer, the idea of go anywhere unlimited internet for 30 bucks a month is very exciting cool.

My puppy has completely readjusted. We are back as an inseparable unit where she knows and trusts me and I her.
It didn't take long.
We have serious talks. She tells me jokes, pulls her tricks on me and does nothing that doesn't reinforce our love. There are so many things she does that I figure everyone but me would find sort of boring, like when she does her imitation of me.
I've managed to create an explanation for our first few horrifying minutes together. I don't think it anthropomorphizes my puppy.
If I were 3 or 4 again and saw the world through those eyes; and if I loved someone and one day I saw my loved one dragged away, strapped to a stretcher and loaded with IV's and wires I wouldn't be able to understand it but I would no it was not good. And then days went by and I didn't see him.
And my life would be a little empty and sad.
One day I got trundled off and sent to live with people I knew, one of them my brother. And I'd think about my loved one being carted away and I'd remember those scary nights I spent sitting with him in hospital and I would decide I would never see him again. I would decide this was my new life.
As I'd been taught I'd work being happy in my new life, with new people and new things to see and do. And like would be good (because if a human being is allowed to forget everything wouldn't a
Click images for desktop size: "Doris Day" dog have enough sense to do the same?)
Then on another day, after just enough time to think this was going to be my life forever, I get trundled off again and taken back to a neighborhood that I used to know, to a house I sort of recall and when the car pulls up to the house there's a man I knew and loved. And I know that it can't be. I know that man is gone because if he weren't gone he never would have left me for so long.
That's the way my puppy responded. She looked at me when the car pulled in the driveway. Her eyes widened and she then ran to the other side of the car, trying to get as far away from the ghost as possible. She snapped at me when I go close and stayed afraid until she realized I wasn't a ghost. Then she was angry. Angry that I'd left her, left her alone.
Then finally she was glad to see me.
It took about a half hour. Then she was afraid I'd gone away forever again. She knows that we're together now. She gets nervous if I'm late coming home from work. She looks out the window and paces. She still greets me with a smile.
We had to go to the bank this morning. We walked past her pet dinosaur. Someone had cut the head off and the head had recently been replaced. She ran to her dinosaur and was irked that they'd put up a new fece. You can see the repair to the fiberglass but you have to be looking for it. They did
Click images for desktop size: "Fatal Blonde" by Ricky Carralero the repair well.
The repair between my puppy and I was done better. We're both flesh and blood and want to be with each other.

The physical therapy is going great. I've added about 7 inches to some of the rotation, and two or three inches of movement to the worst parts. There's pain, sometimes big slabs of pain, but at its worst it's not as bad as the continual pain I had prior to the steroids shot.
I had a treatment with an intraxtor device. It's a more modern version of the TENS machine. It allows heavier doses of electricity to enter the muscle mass but doesn't create the muscle contractions of the TENS machines.
It is all helping a lot.
On Friday I have to go to the swimming pool. There's a whole series of exercises designed for underwater and to help stretch the shoulder while approaching the atrophied muscles.
Spent two days breaking up the adhesions that have developed on the right shoulder blade. It hurt a lot but immediately increased the range of the arm.
It makes me feel more human even if between PT, doc's and work it feels like I'm getting nothing important to me done, I still feel more human.

Posted by David at 3:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Eastern Western Eyes" by Unknown After looking horrible the entire game Joe McKnight managed to win it for the Trojans. Matt Barkley looked over his head. Maybe this was enough experience to send him through the brutal Pac 10 schedule to come.
With Lou Holtz and Notre Dame crashed to reality the schedule makes it look like a National Championship run is possible, but we're still away to Cal . . . and the UCLA defense looked decent against Tennessee. Looks like a great season ahead. Now if I only had a TV . . .
I got my puppy her rabies shot, which duplicated her rabies shot from 4 months ago, her three year rabies shot from four months ago . . . stupid governments.
Our vet, Dr K, was shocked to see us. My puppy is looking gorgeous and I'm not dead.
Everyone seems to think I don't look bad enough. My puppy's gramma, who is a nurse, made comments to that effect. My physical therapist, who is a great guy but I still hate anyone who hurts me as much as he does, had to read the medical records because he didn't believe I'd had two heart attacks in the last 90 days.
I guess its good to look better than expected. I don't see that its gotten me anything.
After the vet we went for a walk in the woods. My puppy loved it. She even dived into the river to get herself a drink. She is still too protective of me and still a bit too co-dependent but she's for sure my dog and is happy, even if she did get a shot.

First week of the NFL. Here are my picks. Laughter is not mandatory, nor will I back up my choices with money!
My picks are in bold.

Tennessee at Pittsburgh - I made the right choice but for the wrong reasons. I got to see an avi of the game and was impressed with the Titans. Very impressed. They've improved when I'd figured
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Unknown they'd gone downhill. For the Steelers they still have Troy on Defense and Heinz Ward on O. Ward plays wide receiver like you dream your receivers might one day play.

Miami at Atlanta - My screwball pick of the week. The Dolphins looked good in pre-season. Really! THe Falcons looked okay. The Dolphins have something to prove to the world and too themselves while the Falcons are already seeing themselves in the play offs. I'm going with the hungry team with no dreams in their hearts, just a gritty need to win.

Kansas City at Baltimore - The Ravens are beasts. The Chiefs are not. Matt Cassell gives them a chance but he's coming off a short pre-season and an injury. These are not the guys you want to practice against. I don't see how the Chiefs can stop anything the Ravens can do on offense. I also would be terribly impressed if they scored.

Philadelphia at Carolina - I'm one of those guys who thinks that VIck served his time in prison and deserves a second chance. I dislike the cynicism that the NFL showed in reinstating him so quickly. I also hate the harsh business sense that led the Eagles to taking him; to push McNabb and to play VIck enough to win and then use him for serious trade bait. That they lied about their intended involvement in pro-animal rights and that Vick has barely paid lip service to his promise to repay dogs for the sick cruelty he perpetuated against the species makes me want to never pick this team again. The Panthers are an enigma. They still have a lot of talent but they never seem to put it together for a season, sometimes not even for a game. They'll have the Vick haters to inspire them and a home crowd. It should be close.

Denver at Cincinnati - The Bronco's trade away their best player and get nothing much in return . . .
Click images for desktop size: "Helmet" Carson Palmer showed he can be a stud but since that one glorious year he's been incredibly brittle. If they are going to roll this season they have to put it together here. Cruddy game of the week.

Minnesota at Cleveland - Brett Favre? He's still a legend. The Browns might improve this year, maybe even enough to not stink. Brady Quinn does not look good to me. The Vikings till have Adrian Petersen and who ever plays QB knows all he has to do is hand it off.

New York Jets at Houston - I don't much like the Texans and I love Mark Sanchez. But Sanchez has merely looked good in the pre-season when the intensity level gets turned to 11 I'm not sure he'll be able to match it in his first sight of it. Even with Rex Ryan (Rex?) the Jets D is pretty sickly. It will be a good game but the crappy Texans should win.

Jacksonville at Indianapolis - The Colts start without Tony Dungy. That's a huge loss. The Jaguars though have disintegrated into something unrecognizable. Payton Manning and crew will prove that life goes on without Dungy.

Detroit at New Orleans - My Sure Win of the week. Dru Brees. Reggie Bush. Matt Stafford has looked pretty bad most of the time.
Click images for desktop size: "Woman at Yellow Wells" The lions have had to improve. Inertia wouldn't let them stay as bad as they were last year but going against a committed to winning the championship Saints team is no medicine.

Dallas at Tampa Bay - I don't like the Cowboys but the Buccaneers are a terrible mess. The Cowboys would have to struggle hard to lose this one. Who cares game of the week.

San Francisco at Arizona - It's killing me. I want to pick the 49ers. I really do.Common sense kills my football picks. I expect this to be a chilling exciting game but the Cardinals just looked so sharp last year. I say Warner is a year older, players are grumbling about their contracts and getting lazy landing easy endorsement packages. They should fall.

Washington at New York Giants - All I know about the Redskins is that they didn't get any of the free agents high on their shopping list. And they're still going with Jason Campbell at QB. The Giants
Click images for desktop size: "Chosen One" by Titusboy didn't replace Plaxico Buress. What's usually a marquee match up looks pretty dreary this season. Taking the Giants out of habit.

St Louis at Seattle - A cruddy game of the week contender. If you don't live in either city why would you even care. Seattle's at home. they loaded up with agin ex-Patriots. I guess that's enough to beat a Rams team that still looks tattered.

Buffalo at New England - Game of the week. Tom Brady. And he's expecting a child. They could go 18-0.

San Diego at Oakland - The Chargers look geled. Tomlinson is old and past his prime but still a weapon. Phillip Rivers looks ready to be dominant and Shawn Merriman is back and back in trouble. Oakland needs to be disabnded. They are expansion team bad.

Chicago 34 at Green Bay 27 - Tie Breaker Game. The Packers were heading downhill last season. Not Aaron Rogers fault. The Bears pick up of Jay Cutler should energize the O to scary levels even without a legitimate wide receiver or running back. And a decent offense will spark up a ragged defense. This should be a good match that I'd like to have seen later in the season.

There you have it. My picks are for entertainment only or a good piece to pass over to your enemies who might think they want to learn more about the game.

Posted by David at 1:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Truck in Field" by Unknown My puppy is back with me.
The first thing she did when she saw me was to try and bite me.
She acted like she was afraid of me. For nearly 5 minutes she ran from me and tried to hide behind others.
This hurt. It hurt a lot.
She's never been afraid of me before.
She got over being fearful and she became angry. That I expected. She poked me and vocalized.
Then I war permitted to scratch her butt. After a moment of that she was suddenly glad to see me. We became inseparable again.
She slept on the bed. She was an exhausted puppy. She would sleep, then wake up and stare at me long and searching before flopping her head back down to sleep.
She was far too tired. It came time for me to go to work. I didn't want to go, but if I didn't go in, I wouldn't get paid. It's that cruddy a job.
I spent the night at work at a low level of stress. I kept worrying about my puppy. I spent hours pondering why she had acted so fearfully. It still hurts and bothers me. In all my nightmares I never imagined my puppy being afraid of me. Being bossy and angry with me are fairly normal, but she'd never been afraid of me, not even afraid to be wrong. I was the one she ran to when she was afraid. For the first time I was questioning whether my puppy and I belonged together. Whether I'd made a mistake and pulled her from someplace where she was happier and better off.
It put a light veil over the joy of our being reunited.
I rushed home. She was waiting for me at the front door. We went for a walk. She was pretty normal, the puppy I know and love. She headed for her old hangout, the corner that leads to the football stadium and the hospital. She loved coaching football. She loves being a doctor dog.
I was going to walk her past there when her grandparents, who had delivered her, drove by. They were coming for us to go to breakfast.

Click images for desktop size: "A Vampire's Rage" by Titusboy We went to the old school Southern diner. Good food. Better getting to spend some time with people who raised my puppy, it was better getting to know them better.
I got home. My puppy greeted me enthusiastically. When her grandparents went to leave she paid no attention to them, instead she stayed close to me, barely acknowledging them.
She said goodbye to them and then started to play with me.
We were playing with her Kong. My puppy gets so ecstatic and full of herself when she gets me to chase her. Suddenly the neighbor appeared. He's the wannabe drummer.
He shocked me. He told me that after I left for work my puppy howled for hours!
My puppy hadn't cried since she was about 4 months old.This distressed me. I didn't understand whether she was howling because she was alone, missing me or missing her temporary life, the life she'd just left, and the life that the two of us had to abandon.
I thanked the guy for telling me and apologized if she had disturbed him, but then he went on until I realized he was squawking. When he said that her crying had disturbed his FIVE cats sleep I started to feel angry.
There was no place for the anger so I let it go. But I remember the people who worry more about their petty comfort and value that more than the obvious distress of an animal. I can be polite but if he asks me for help with his music or playing again I'm going to politely refuse.
A dogs howl is more mournful than a human's. For a dog it is the only
Click images for desktop size: "George Chikharis" tool they have. Its is beautiful and profound. It contains their soul and expresses their fears, their heartbreak and their pleas. To not feel compassion for something that is so instinctively well crafted and full of nothing but sincerity is something I can't understand. To not be moved and compassionate forces me to harden my heart.
I've never met anyone who could ignore the distress of an animal who would understand much of anything else, including themselves. I'd listened to him moaning about his girlfriend leaving him. And I listened to him whinge about not being able to meet anyone. Know at least I knew why. It also explained the lack of passion in his drumming. It didn't explain why he couldn't keep the beat. Listening to him once I realized he doesn't count. (Drummer pun)
My housemate came home from the Labor Day weekend; I figured he'd be enough company for her that my puppy wouldn't cry. That didn't work.
She started to howl her wolf like cry of despair. SInce she's a good girl she stopped as soon as my housemate spoke to her. But she howled twice.
She met me at the door and was all excited. She remembers where she is. There was a dog whom
Click images for desktop size: "The Challenge" by Charles Marion she used to play with. It passed away last Thanksgiving. When we got to the house she lunged to see her old friend.
She kept close to me all day. She slept on the bed with me, and tried hard to push me off. She woke me to feed her. That night she only cried for me once. I remember my vet talking about the howling. She said it was mixed emotions because the dog looked so beautiful when it howled but you knew that the howl meant its heart was breaking.
Wednesday was the date of my first physical therapy appointment. It was scheduled for 2, with the car (in some circles I'm considered disabled) picking me up at 1. I needed to sleep yet my puppy was so overjoyed to see me; she was full of jokes and wiggle butt merriment.
She'd howled during the night but only the once and only about half an hour after I'd left. I think she was beginning to believe that I would come home to her.
We played and got about 30 minutes of sleep. At least that's all I got, she was pleased when I got up so she could take over the bed.
We stood outside the house together and waited for the car. She loved just standing outside with me. She loved it so much there was no protesting when the car pulled up and I had to leave her in the house.
The Physical Therapist was good, very good. Which means I'm hating him.
There are three main ligaments in the shoulder. Because of my frozen shoulder they have all shortened, the biceps and triceps have atrophied. Before we can work on the shoulder I have to lengthen the ligaments. They are so short that one of them is locked solid and can't be worked until I get some motion in the other two.
The PT pointed out that I kept my right arm too well guarded. I never relaxed it, clearly for some months. When I told him it had been bad since about April he was shocked. He wondered how I can stand that much pain for so long.
He gave me four exercises I could do They hurt and are embarrassingly simple.
I was dippy from very little sleep when I went into work that evening. But I was fine when I heard my puppy had not howled all evening.
I was starting to feel better about her being with me. I had doubts. Not about how much I needed her but doubts about whether she needed me. If she wouldn't have been happier where we used to be or where she used to be.
The doubts are dissipating more and more as we walk around and are together. I've seen that she is also initially distrustful of people she has known but then she also warms up to them in exactly the old way, but there is that moment of confusion that people feel. It wasn't as intense and there's no
Click images for desktop size: "Waiting for Spring" by Elena Savitskaya anger in her but she seems to feel a need to reintroduce herself.
Its like when I ask her if she wants to go outside to go to the bathroom or just to play. She works so hard to understand me and she considers her answer. And she always tells me the truth. It's a part of the trust between us. It's a part of the love we have for each other.
She loves her kong and when she gets me to chase her for it she nearly explodes with giddy joy. I watch her play with others and there is fun but there's not that sense of being tickled to near endurance breaking levels.
We still bicker. We still argue but we do so in the sense that no matter what the anger there's no chance of it impinging on our love for each other.
She is my dog and I am her boy.
I got paid today. I'm already broke. But I'll get through till next payday.
My puppy's aunt sent somethings along with her, including a bed my puppy sometimes uses and some toys which she ignores and food which my puppy always demands. There were also some things for me. A cool Silver Surfer T-Shirt I'm wearing now.
Today was also the second visit to the physical therapist. This one was rough. 45 minutes of having my arm manipulated. I still find it near impossible to relax the arm, this is causing some nasty bad cramping in my neck and collarbone. The manipulation heightened some of that but it also relieved the numbness in my hand.
It hurt and left me very sore but I get out of doing the painful exercises, at least for the day. I also noted I can raise my arm a good two inches higher than I could three days ago. Small but important and encouraging.
Tomorrow I have to take my puppy to see the vet to get a booster rabies shot. What a waste of time and money. Her original vaccine of only 4 months ago is made by the same American company that is approved here but because it was done out of state, not out of country, they do not recognize it. I've tried to understand. Rabies is a problem here. Its found often in raccoons and in bats(!). But this just seems stupid. No one disagrees but the government . . . I have to get her licensed so we
Click image: "Nightman and Wolverine" by Marvel Comics can get out permit to use the dog parks!
I continue to be disappointed in Snow Leopard, the new OS for the Mac. There are numerous benefits but they seem piddling to the issue with icons. For the most gorgeous interface imaginable for Apple to continue to ignore the loud complaint that the 512 pixel icons (why do you need such huge icons) suddenly vanish and that the older 128 pixel and 256 pixel icons look horrid, like a 1 inch jpeg blown up to bill board size, is inexcusable.
I always remember when Macs were a cult item. We accepted Apple's mistake calmly and with the knowledge they'd be addressed rapidly. Now that they are merely an iPod factory (Even though I still want an iPod Touch!) I am pretty disgusted with this. It is far too similar to the buggy junk that Microsoft foists on people who think they have no other choice.

Posted by David at 1:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Tiger Dream World" by Unknown In about 24 hours or so my puppy will be coming back to me.
Matt Barkley's debut with the Trojans was a qualified success. The whole team looked terrible in the first quarter. Our vaunted secondary looked feeble and our line looked like they were looking for a leader. On the O-Line two false starts were costly. Fumbling was endemic. It was a disaster.
Of course the way it ended was as it was expected. Over 600 yards total offense to San Jose's 100 plus. I have more confidence with Aaron Corp at QB. The offense seems stilted with Barkley. He's an awesomely talented kid but all near risk plays were off the table as they had him manage the game.
All in all the Trojans played half a game and looked incredible in the half they played. If they can play a whole game they will be frightening indeed.
Next up is the highly anticipated clash with Ohio State. They looked horrifyingly bad barely beating Navy. It took some heroics after the final Navy TD to keep the game safe. Navy was going for the two point conversion. The pass was intercepter and run back the other way for the two points to keep the victory. Before that play OSU was fading fast while Navy was accelerating.
Both lines for Ohio State looked bad. The linebackers for Ohio State looked weak and were easily blocked. Terrell Pyror played well but not brilliantly.
If they don't step it up the game next week could be a boring repeat of last years. The Trojan D looks solid enough, better than Navy's. I'd love to see a competitive game but it appears OSU might be over rated. I hope not.

In about 24 hours my puppy will be back with me. I hope she'll be glad to see me.

The NFL starts this week. I'm giving serious thought to using my next paycheck to buy a TV and then
Click images for desktop size: "Tree" by Girish Chaudry to get satellite. It is cheaper than cable and DISH Network was a package that has all I want for 30 bucks a month. Thing is I only want it for football season. Trying to sort it all out in my head and my pocketbook.
With the NFL season comes my usual NFL picks. More people, old friends, new friends and strangers write to me about the NFL stuff than any other topic . . . I guess it's amusing to see a coach with 20 years experience be so stupid about the pros. Either that or people can say "My picks were better than his! Why, I could probably coach better than him too!"
I don't know why people want to see me make a fool of myself. I won't disappoint.
My friend has signed up too. The contest I'm in has lousy prizes this year. Kind of grim. It's not about the prizes. Its about winning, no, it's about having fun.

My puppy is coming back to me in about 24 hours. I hoe she remembers me. I hope she's glad to see me.

I don't get Labor Day off. The real sign of a cruddy job.
The co-worker I liked has given notice. The job wears you down hard and fast. The customers tend to be rude and self absorbed. They quickly forget that were human too and they don't understand we get a miserable wage with no coffee breaks and no lunch break. In fact they make unreasonable demands. They also manage to make my co-workers feel unsafe. I understand it even if I don't share their fear.
I plan to keep the job either as long as I can or until I get a good job. I keep sending off resumes and scanning the ads. The pickings are scant though.


Click images for desktop size: "Fred Astaire & Rita Hayworth" My puppy is coming back to me. Less than 24 hours. I hope we're as happy together as we usually are. I worry that she missed me as much as I missed her. It took me months to ease her dependence on me. Now I'm a touch sad and proud that I was succesful. Proud of her, I mean. My puppy works hard to please me. She worked hard in her therapy dog training. She learned there how to be around people. She even learned to like some people and to tolerate those she didn't like.
My puppy's life has been pretty easy. The only harshness she's had to deal with are baths, being seperated from me, and her eternal diet. She's a fatty. I never see that. I only see my puppy and whatever it is she is inside and outside is the dog I love.
I figure she'll forgive me for being stupid enough to not have my dog with me and then she'll spend a few days making me pay . . . and whatever she does I'll find it adorable.

Posted by David at 2:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Predator" by Unknown One of the last memorable gigs as a band was at a benefit party. The party was being thrown by some slick, over priced arty magazine.
It was one of those functions guaranteed to attract a lot of A & R people, heavy weights, stars etc. Plus the magazine was certain to give itself serious coverage. A cover story. What was amazing was that nobody in the band objected to any of the details or even the pay. It was the bands usual tact to find some highly objectionable reason to not doing these career boosting gigs . . . We had all been in too many bands and the music excited us but the business was something that just seemed to be in the way.
It was sort of miraculous that with our lack of promotion and ambition that the party promoters had even found us. Like we once got it together to mail out ONE CD of demo's to a magazine. They picked it as the CD of the month. Wrote quite a bit about it. We all read the article, tired to take it with professional maturity and then basically did nothing. We rehearsed more and got together when we felt like it.
But we got this gig and agreed to it. I don't know who set it up. The venue was huge, very nice. Had a full pub as sort of an attachment, It had two separate stages and an outdoor amphitheater that could hold a few hundred. We were scheduled to play in the amphitheater, the fourth act. I was irked we weren't the closers but the band that was closing had a single in the charts and had a brief appearance on "Top of the Pops". They were a techno-dance band and fought for closing.
I was standing at the bar, not drinking quietly, when this fellow started talking to me. I'm used to that. For some reason a guy not drinking at a free bar attracts more attention that a rowdy drunk.
This fellow was as tall as me, fair haired going to baldness. He wore khaki shorts, broken aviator
Click images for desktop size: "Scarlet Cascade" by Unknown sunglasses, a too large hawaiian shirt, white socks and Doc Martin boots. He was drinking tonic water and bitters.
He was excited about an act in one of the smaller stages. The act was some girl who shot sparks out of her body . . . he was so excited about it that it was contagious. I had no idea why it sounded exciting but he made it seem that way. We made a date to go see the woman's act. Then our attention got diverted by the cute little hostesses who wanted us to stop our not drinking and do our sound checks. The guy in the hawaiian shirt was in a band too.
The little hostess who was assigned to take me to the staging area explained that he was the guitarist for "Siouxie and the Banshees". She made it clear she wished she'd had him to baby sit instead of me as she explained he'd also played on some of the "Little Furry Creature" tracks. My only thoughts were that he sure didn't come off like the original Goth guitarist, he was too likable for that.
We did our sound check and then did whatever we could to stave off boredom. The Hawaiian shirt Goth guitarist came and found me. The acts were starting on the inside stages and the spark girl was starting soon.
Spark girl was the opening act. Big mistake. The woman walked on stage to some nondescript acid trance music. She wasn't very pretty but she was fit. She knew how to appeal to guys. She was mostly
Click image: "Wizard of Oz-Bewtween Takes" nude. To keep it legal she had strips of black clunky metal pasted to strategic places on her body. On her head was some sort of clunky Grace Jones geometric thing. What was interesting was a high speed/power grinder in her hands.
She did some mildly salacious poses on a chair while she revved the grinder in time to the music. Suddenly she touched the grinder to her body which let off a huge shower of red and white fiery sparks. She then danced around some touching the grinder to the black strips and shooting sparks all over the place. It was great!
She ended the act by lying back on the floor and touching the grinder between her legs shooting a twenty foot shower of sparks over the audiences head.
I was pretty slack jawed. I was also starting to write songs that required an electric grinder accompaniment . . .
My time for being put in my creative place wasn't over. The Hawaiian Shirted Goth guitarist was opening the show. He had a trio he'd put together just for this gig. They were a little raw but very competent.
The Goth guitarist took the stage in exactly what he'd been wearing. He played a pink Fender. It looked customized and had a lot more sustain than you usually get from a strat.
There were about 300 people there and he treated the audience like they were guests in his living
Click images for desktop size: "Fractal Axes" by Unknown room. He was the most relaxed entertainer I'd ever seen and he was totally chilled and, of course, great!
My memory of his set was just of it always being casual, friendly and driving. But his finale was shattering. He soloed on electric guitar doing a mind blasting cover of the Beastie Boys' "(You Gotta) Fight To Party". It is now one of my primal memories defining rock & roll.
Relaxed, self assured and able to get a few hundred people dancing to just your guitar. I was humbled, jealous and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
The only negative was thinking we have to follow that!
Out of the two bands that were supposed to play, one refused to follow him and the other had a late running drummer so suddenly we had to follow that!
We did okay. Had to work is all. Made for a great show. Everything was well received.
After the set we got approached by a few managers and A & people. Signed with a manager too but at the moment Goth Guitarist and I were anxious to get to the smaller stage. There was going to be a female fire eater! We hoped for something similar to spark girl.
The fire eater was just okay. She wore a black bikini, was covered in interesting tattoos and did an interesting fire eating routine but she didn't shoot a tower a flame 20 feet over the audience's head from her vagina and after that precedent we couldn't help but be disappointed.
Oh, yeah. The magazine came out. The article was big. Opened with a double page spread of the spark girl. I think she deserved the coverage. They ran three pix of the band and wrote about a page and a half about us. I thought it weird that they only gave Goth Guitarist two columns.
The new manager got us a couple of gigs and got us into a recording studio, We laid down about a half dozen tracks and had some fun but the drummer got married, the lead singer got a job and discovered that he enjoyed not sweating the rent and eating regular. The bass player and I got this game for the Playstation and it seemed life or death to us that we get it finished . . . So another rock and roll fantasy laid to rest there.

Working the graveyard shift is killing me. Not the jobs fault. I think I'd be having the same problem working any hours. I can't sleep. The pain in my right arm just won't allow it. The latest wrinkle is that I wake up and my right hand is vibrating wildly. Vibrating faster than I can consciously will it to. I've tried to convince myself that this is a good thing, that it means the muscles are loosening up or something.
The arm was miserable the first two nights of work. Hurt constantly. The two numb fingers felt like they were filling up with blood and were fixing to explode. They don't look swollen or anything so
Click images for desktop size: "Bulls on Parade" by Olli Pekka Jauhiainen I'm lost as to what they might mean with all the hurting.
I've worked 10 straight days. This is the first day off. In that time I learned to fulfill my work duties and keep my arm protected enough that its only a distracting issue with the occasional burst of screaming agony.
The walking and being on my feet is tiresome. I have a 3.2 mile walk to and from work, which is probably a good thing for me. Except the final mile and a half coming home I discover that I'm almost crawling up the hills. I find that annoying.
Not walking on my day off I can feel my legs having a chance to recover and heal.
The job itself is inconsequential. I have little contact with my co-workers. I only deal with them at shift change. One is fine and the other is a nightmare, but I only have to see her for 15 minutes a day so it doesn't wear too thin.
One thing that bugs me is the ever present cameras. I don't like being looked at quite that much.
As to the job. Its just that a job. I have no feelings about it at all really. Maybe just too tired to know what I might feel.
The only drag part is after the shooting incident of my first day the landlords have evicted them! They plan to move the place but everywhere they've talked about moving would be impossible for me to get to. So its now a temporary job. Rather annoying.
So I'll get about 6 weeks in. I've restarted my job hunt, lightly right now but will step it up this week.

My puppy is now scheduled to be with me on Labor Day weekend. It think about that a lot. I want her with me. I keep seeing things that would interest her. I think about how how much faster my walk to work would be if she were there to help me along.
One interesting thing is that no one at my job has recognized me as her companion. Its about the only place I've been in this town where that's happened. Too tired to make anything of that.
After she's settled in and feeling comfortable I'm going to bring in a foster dog.

Posted by David at 8:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Fractal Fury" by Lawn Elf I saw a humming bird the other day. It surprised me. I hadn't seen one outside of California before.
This hummingbird was bigger than the ones I grew up with. Its colors weren't as vibrant and startling. It was more a mottled black with some green iridescence about its wings and sides.
It hovered about three feet in front of me. It was inspecting me.
I don't know if my nose was so sunburned that it wasn't certain that my nose wasn't some giant red flower. (Humming birds like red flowers.) Then I thought that maybe I was looking sort of mealy. Humming birds eat meal worms.
Once after a big santa ana winds I was out walking my dogs when I found a baby humming bird on the street. I assumed that the winds had blown it out of its nest. That happened a lot in my neighborhood. My rate on saving these birds was less than 50% but I'm not good at walking away from something in trouble.
I never tried to save a hummingbird before but . . . I tried my usual method: dry baby food mixed with milk and sugar. It wouldn't eat it. I ended up buying instant nectar, the stuff people put in humming bird feeders. That worked pretty well.
Pretty soon we had a tiny little red and blue humming bird flittering around the house. He annoyed my little female finch, another rescue bird who had refused to go back to the wild. The finch had decided that its natural habitat was a shirt pocket.
At three weeks the humming bird was about the size of two joints of my pinky. That seemed small. I took it to our vet, who had gotten used to the various exotic animals we bought into him. I then found out that the little bird probably had not been blown out of its nest. Its mother had probably dumped it. She had a birth defect. I didn't know that her legs weren't supposed to look like they did. I mean, who has ever seen a humming bird's feet?

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Hajime Sorayama I also found out I had to grind up meal worms to mix with her nectar. Protein. And pretty disgusting protein. Fortunately we had a disgusting mixer we used for other disgusting pet remedies so it was okay.
The little girl did fine. She even got to the point of teasing the dogs, an obvious rite of passage in my house. Any animal who lived with us eventually had to devise a way to torment the dogs, who were the dominant species in the house.
The cockatiel rejoiced in bathing in the dogs drinking water. The rabbits liked to pounce on the dogs when they were napping and then hide under the bed just out of the reach of tooth and claw. Even the finch enjoyed landing on their backs and steal wisps of fur so it could build its nest in my shirt pocket. The dogs, of course, bought all their complaints to me, so annoying the pups had the added benefit of making more work for me.
The humming bird just enjoyed buzzing around their heads until the dogs just had to snap at it, of course the humming bird had moved three inches to the left before they got there.
For the record, and records are very important to dogs, the dogs never hurt any of the animals in the house. They bore them easily and took the others intrusions as validation of their native superiority.
At about 6 weeks the humming bird was looking pretty fit. I took her into the vet and he operated on its feet. Its feet were very malformed so it couldn't grasp a perch or a stick. With some surgery we had hopes.
The little girl survived the operation. And after a week could sit on a
Click images for desktop size: "Lena Horne & Dean Martin" perch, although she still preferred sitting on top of my head the most. After another week I decided she could go back to the wild.
I took her out to Bronson Canyon and released her. She took a huge 50 yard arc, darting back and forth like a dragon fly on crystal meth. Then she made a screaming dive bomb and landed on my head wrapping her claws so tightly around my hair I couldn't pry her lose. She didn't loosen her grip until we got back in the car.
I thought maybe if I released her in the back yard she'd live outside happily, still close to the friends she'd grown up with. She wasn't having that either.
She only lived for about 18 months after that. She was too little and too messed up. I never really minded grinding up the meal worms. I did mind the meal worms though.

My puppy is an orphan now. Her mother passed away. Cancer. I only met her mother the one time but I liked her. She liked me too mainly because I'm very free with treats around dogs.

Click images for desktop size: "Green Forever" by Cyreuss It was from her mother that my puppy inherited her equipoise, her grace and her willingness to address her fears. She also got her stubbornness and determination from her. And beauty. You can't talk about this family without noticing their incredible beauty.
I met my puppy's mother in the company of one of the greatest dogs I've ever met, Uncle Hank. He was great because he was so happy being a dog. Even in his overwhelming happy company you had to notice the mom. All the dogs went to an abandoned dog park. My puppy, so tiny, jumped into a little pool there and was having a wonderful time keeping everyone else out of it!
After the adult dogs got bored pretending to be intimidated by my little puppy they went about their own games. My puppy bolted the pool and headed straight towards her mother. The mom turned on her and snapped at her fiercely, really yelled on my puppy. My puppy ran over and sat at my feet looking to her mom for approval.
The world is emptier for Reina's passing. I know its okay to grieve for the loss of a dog. I will be grieving for her and for my newly orphaned puppy.

Aside from watching the birds that are watching me my job hunt continues unabated. I thought I'd be working much sooner than this. Its still possible.
The doc's called. I did have a major heart attack caused by the Canadian jerks refusing to give me the proper meds. I survived it. The doc's still aren't certain why or how. Their was significant additional damage to my heart but not to the point of changing any of my meds or diet restrictions. I still don't like it but I've learned to cover my flinch reflex when they say its pretty miraculous that I'm still alive. I guess that's the only way people can congratulate you on surviving life. Doesn't seem like much of an accomplishment to me. All I did was not die. I didn't even realize that was an option.
The only real negative is that before it was possible I could heal my heart back to 100%. That doesn't appear to be an option anymore. But I'll wait on that call till they've done all the research.
The shoulder is still bad. I'm maybe being to gentle with it now. I got scared by the idea of
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by GBR "irreparable nerve damage."
They're trying to find me an orthopedist who'll see me in the program. I believe they're working hard at it.
I've been taking some criticism for not updating this site everyday. Its because I'm locked into an obsessive mode and hate being repetitive.
there's also the odd thing. It used to be that this site averaged 100 to 200 unique visitor a day. Cool by me. Since the prison story I've been averaging 50,000 a day. With 600 coming through the front door. On days with a new post it goes up to 80,000 and 1,000. This is just weird to me.
A part of it is the new fangled competition between google and bing I think. A lot more people squawking about graphics and stuff. But that only accounts for about 20% of the traffic.
I don't mind, I actually like people coming to look at the pictures but I don't really care about their critical comments which to me seem to be about nothing. Like I'm somehow obligated. Like they're paying me. They're not.
I don't understand the sudden continuing surge in traffic at all.

Posted by David at 3:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Twisted Mind Show" by Titusboy I have a pretty strong ego. The Canadian prison is designed to quickly and ruthlessly proclaim you to be a worthless piece of flotsam unfit for society and beneath contempt. That goes for the innocent and the guilty alike.
That doesn't work on me. I can't ever absorb as anything other than its a lie that anyone is better than me. I also encourage everyone else to feel that no one in the world is any better than they are. Instead it makes me think that the bastards in government who created and perpetuated this system are pretty pathetic individuals on a level with pedophiles and the cops and guards they hire as beneath contempt as any eunuch with a truncheon should be. (There are female eunuchs too . . . I think I dated a few.)
There are things that humble me, that make me feel small and insignificant. Walking without my puppy does that. Its a constant reminder of vulnerability. It feels like there's nothing in this life that can slake justified rage.
Today I walked to the store. I was slogging back with my bundles. My backpack on, crushing my shoulder badly. I was certain that the pain would be worse if I tried to move it or readjust it. The iPod was playing The Ronettes "Walking in the Rain". I paid attention to my heart. The heat feels unbearable to me. And then it started to rain. But the rain was hot. Not just warm but hot water, hot as a shower.
Steam roiled on the asphalt and made choking hot chemical clouds that the rush of cars pushed into my face. This was a pretty significant indictment even I couldn't ignore. It took me thirty minutes to walk home, less than two miles. the thermometer said it was already pushing 90. It wasn't 9 AM yet.
I consoled myself by putting my things away and thinking there's a chance my puppy and I will be
Click images for desktop size: "Sludge" by Peter Lovacs together in a couple of weeks. I don't want to get my hopes up too high. There's only so much dashing I have in me and only so much dashing of hopes I can absorb. Still a lot of planning to do.

On Wednesday I completed all the interviews to get into the Access program. They sent me down to cardiology on the spot. Just drew some blood. They wanted to inject some die into my blood but saw that I was on metformin for the diabetes and went another way.
I spoke to the cardiologist on the phone. He started to get on me because I hadn't seen a cardiologist since the heart attack. I told him I was in in a Canadian prison for two weeks and the doctors there didn't think it was necessary.
He got angry and said that the "worst hack who ever got a medical degree wouldn't do that. That's scandalous. Were they trying to kill you?"
I shrugged at the phone but couldn't think of anything to add to that. I don't know if he understood my silence but he changed his schedule around to see me ASAP. ASAP meant in only one week. He left me with the orders: If I have any heart pain or discomfort I'm to go to emergency immediately and have them beep him.
I liked his anger and intensity.
I kept trying to explain to anyone who seemed to be in charge of anything that I was more worried about seeing an orthopedist than a cardiologist. My shoulder hurts worse than my heart (at least my beating heart).

Click images for desktop size: "Morgan Freeman" Someone finally told me they'd send me a letter with an appointment. I only got the cardiologist so quickly because I'd been neglecting things . . .
Thursday I saw my GP. Things look better. My blood work sort of confirmed some things. My overall cholesterol is 76. The bad cholesterol that I was supposed to work on getting down below 50 (which I thought was impossible) is at 40. The good cholesterol is still too low at 28 but its not too much of an issue since my overall cholesterol is so low.
I asked about the physical stresses of coaching and if I'd be able to go back to it. She then asked if I was the coach with the black therapy dog. It turns out my doctor's husband is a wrestling coach at one of the conference high schools and my puppy being on the side lines during the big game against us was the thrill of that season. Then she told me about how all the nurses, who I was convinced hated me and my puppy, were in deep mourning when we left.
I figure we had to go away for them to realize that the two of us weren't so bad.
She told me some of the stories about my puppy and I. I was surprised that they were pretty much
Click images for desktop size: "Road from New Jersey" G Studios true and didn't have the need to get defensive about any of them.
One positive is that she'll talk to her husband about me coaching at his school . . . for pay. I have mixed feeling about that. I don't like the idea of taking money for working with kids but I need a job.
There's also the worry about whether I can physically withstand a season. Like I can see me running down the sidelines throwing my hands up over my head signaling a touch down jerking up in agony as my shoulder decided to rebel and the pain and embarrassment giving me a heart attack . . .
She thought that there were still things I could do with kids. She said that kids all loved me and talk about me and my puppy. (She didn't say in which order they talked about us which I thought was pretty diplomatic.)
Then the friend who's letting me stay at my house went on vacation. So I'm now house sitting for two weeks. Not really but it sounds better than leeching.
He's another one who's excited about the possibility of my puppy coming to me. He'll be instrumental in getting her back her if my complex plan unfolds . . . I don't have a plan. I just like to think I do.

I'm down to retail stores for job apps. I was going to even apply to Pizza Hut!! They require all employees have a driver's lisence and "Reliable Transportation (Not Public)". They claim its because you might have to make a bank deposit or an emergency delivery . . . but I figure the reality is they don't want anyone late claiming the bus broke down.
For every job I apply for I seem to get 5 spam emails and 3 scam phone calls, all offering me employment. One phone call said I could make thousands a month just by blogging . . .

Posted by David at 6:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Irises" by Sakai Doitsu Its amazing how still the air is. Not a hint of breeze. Smoke from the cigarettes goes straight up, tendrils without a wisp of character. The trees are silent, nothing moves. It feels like death might feel.
I haven't written anything the past few days. Nothing has happened that I need to remember.
I miss my puppy terribly. That's not going to change. It feels like she's been stolen from me, which isn't actually the case but it feels that way. It feels like a lot of what I am has been stolen from me. Its only my sadness that makes me feel this way.
When I run into someone I know they're fist question is, "How's your puppy?" That proves they actually know me. Several people I don't know have come up to me and asked after her. Some have tried to identify me as my puppy's "father". Then they ask where she is and how she is.
The adults will often tell me a story about how my puppy helped their child through a traumatic illness. Some tell me how my puppy helped them through their child's illness. They always tell me how beautiful and smart and devoted my puppy is.
They've built a dinosaur trail here. Its just an established path in the forest and they've hidden something like 20 fiberglass dinosaurs on the path for kids to discover and play on. It opens tomorrow. I got a formal invitation to take the inaugural walk with my puppy and some kids from the hospital. It would be fun for all.
Its possibly just as well we can't do it. My puppy would have enjoyed the walk but the kid have an image of her sometimes . . . especially around the dinosaurs. I fear they would have been disappointed in how she reacted to the big adventure, but possibly not.
I continue to be desperate for a job. Nearly broke. I going as intense as I can. Just churning away.
I had two interviews yesterday. One was a waste. It was a group interview . . . there were five of us. Three were high school girls. The job was weekend cashier at a chain drug store.

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Howard Schatz On the second I at least got a nice free lunch. I had wild mushroom ravioli. It was okay. This was a meeting with my old boss. It was nice enough and a pleasant couple of hours. Except on the work front they hired two people within the last two months.
Its not too nice having to hope for some one else's failure to have a chance at success. Way too Hollywood.
There's one unexpected result of using the internet for my job search. Not only d I get some pretty virulent spam offering me all sorts of scam type jobs I also get phone calls.
On Tuesday I applied on-line to a chain book store where I used to know some people. The on-line job app is their preference, I did all the tedious work.
I haven't heard from them but I got three phone calls. I'm on a pay-as-you-go mobile. The first few minutes of each conversation is with me trying to figure out who these people are. What job I applied for that they're calling me about. It takes a while to figure out that they saw my resume and want to offer me a fantastic opportunity . . .
One call was from a company that needed to verify my employment history. I asked which employer they were working for. They couldn't/wouldn't tell me. I decided not to cooperate with them. I said I'd gotten too many spams and scams to risk giving out my personal details to a stranger.
I hope that wasn't a mistake. The concern is just a reflection of how stressed I am.
I had to talk to this foundation after. They're the ones who will provide access to a volunteer cardiologist and orthopedist. It was an interesting phone interview. Te gist of it was to figure out if I was actually wealthy and scamming to get free health care. I did discover that all the jobs I'm applying for, well, the wages would still keep me below the national poverty level and keep me eligible for the program. Pretty solid mixed feelings about that.

Click images for desktop size: "Hiding Turtle" by Unknown I haven't had any real issues with my heart. Even with the sadness and the worry. No pain. I seem to just be aware of it.
The arm and shoulder on the other hand are a terrible nuisance. The pain stays at intolerable levels.
Yesterday I was in the bathroom when I heard the phone ring. I scrambled to answer it and rammed the bad shoulder into the door jam. I was mewling . . . it was electric fire blinding.
I didn't get to the phone in time. It took twenty minutes to recover. The arm was weak and useless. A new wrinkle has been the numbness of the pinky and ring fingers.
I was able to see who called and call back. Good thing. It was a job I'm seriously interested in. Interview Tuesday.
I'm sleeping better. I've discovered that I can build a sort of cast made of pillows around the arm and shoulder and that with some adjusting I can sleep almost pain free. This has served me the last two night so I'm sleeping nearly 5 hours a night!

Posted by David at 10:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Emily" by Jugeminias Missing my puppy badly.
I slept better last night. Discovered a plan that semi-worked. Involved a lot of propping with pillows and proper splaying. I slept for 3 hours straight through.
But dreamt of my puppy. On nights like this she'd tell me puppy jokes, watch over me and recommend a good snack. Being a doctor dog she'd know when to nuzzle me, when to play with me, take me outside, when to have me pet her.
I miss my puppy. Trying hard to not let my desperation for her turn into obsession.
Obsession almost always means you miss the obvious solutions in life.
I'm hoping that tomorrow starts to yield some results to my mad flurry of resume rending job searching. Its time for interviews and time for hoping.
I went to this store, Ross. They have plenty f cheap slacks. They sell Dockers for like eight bucks. I figure dockers are okay for some interviews. I begrudge spending the eight bucks.
I bought some used books yesterday. The trip was to drop off job apps. I got four books for nine dollars. Three of them will be interesting but hardly vital, the find was David Drake's "Killer".
"Killer," is a book I was thinking about months ago. Its a science fiction tale about a vicious killing machine monster that gets loose on earth. What makes this story compelling is that the earth its gone to war with is ancient Rome! And the monsters hunter is a former gladiator!
I'm into the first one hundred pages. The story drags a bit more than I remembered but its still fascinating. There's some effort made to show the life of free Romans. The history lesson is integrated well into the plot so it hardly feels like you're learning anything at all! Good stuff.

July 5, 2009

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We woke the next morning with heavy growing hearts. A border, an imaginary line meant we had to
Click images for desktop size: "Enhanced Canadian Wilderness" by James Davidson go our own ways.
The Days Inn provided a free breakfast. We decided to save some money and eat it. The breakfast was poor but could fill you up.
The worst part was a tray full of eggs cooked someway that they're all perfectly round. They are also nearly indestructible. Even though heaped on the plate none of their yolks showed any hint of breaking. I was afraid of them. They did not seem like food but more like the Japanese plastic sculptures of food the restaurants display.
To while away the time until checkout we walked and talked. We thought of strategies, of hopes and of plans. All bright optimistic stuff to avoid thinking of my departure time.
When we checked out we went looking for a bookstore, so I could get something to read on the long bus ride.
We went to Borders. My friend found a couple of cook books and a gluten free magazine she'd never before seen. I couldn't find anything. The prices for he titles were too high for my remote interest in them.
We then found a spectacular looking used book store but it was closed on the Sunday. We looked through the windows and regretted the day.
It seemed a nice place to sit and talk and attempt to say goodbye.

Click images for desktop size: "Divine Right" by Marvel We had lunch at this Irish style pub. I had a quesadilla . . . it was not good but better than I feared.
Following a last second "I need another bungi cord" panic we went to the bus station. We sat and waited. Talked.
There were two US Immigrations cop hanging around. Border Patrol this far from a border? My bus pulled in but we weren't allowed to board. The Border Patrol had to go in and harass the passengers. They pulled an Indian guy off the bus and were huge jerks. They made him get his luggage and they inspected everything in an incredibly arrogant fashion.
I got on the bus. My friend was in tears. I flashed all the ASL I knew at her. I don't know if she knew what I was saying. I kept flashing ASL even as the bus pulled out. When we got to the other side of the bus station my friend was out there. She waved. I waved back and watched her walk to her car. I wanted to tell her there's no sense in crying. No one was dead yet.
So two days out of prison, nearly 4 weeks from a heart attack and here I was on the dreaded
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Frank Mellech Greyhound. No chance to recover. No chance to breathe.
I had 16 hours to think about things.
I started thinking about the racist cop who started this ugly turn. I don't like cops. Its their insanity and their presumption I don't like. After they've been at it long enough they start to think that everyone is guilty and its only a matter of time till they have you under the lights burying their saps in your kidneys.
This Scott McVicar wasn't even unique. I'd noticed that the area cops were almost all of a freaky breed. They remind me of nothing more than the cops in "A Clockwork Orange". "Just jobs for two who are of job working age!"
They're thugs too cowardly to run with the gangs and the worst of them who find the gangs to tame for the sadistic hatred they carry in their souls.
The sick part is that they no longer make the cops wear uniforms, not consistent uniforms. They let them fuss and futz with their uniforms to the point that there is no longer any relief when you see a cop. McVicar wore no name tag - ever. He even obscured his badge. He fitted and tugged his uniform and wore so much extra unofficial gear he looked more like a manga character than a cop. He wasn't alone. The end result is they look like a manga inspired gang that gets to carry guns and openly hate.
I've never seen any police force in the world that allowed its cops to customize their uniforms to such an extent that the officers couldn't be readily identified. Not even in Africa around the equator. They want the police to be readily identified in an effort to stop trouble except in Canada where the by-word is to let the thugs keep the thugs in their place and who cares what they look like.
Suddenly squad car cops are allowed to do investigations. And a cop so stupid and ignorant he thinks everything he sees on the internet is true. And based on that I was thrown in prison. I was never fingerprinted, photographed nor DNA tested. They have no idea if I was even the guy in the story. But on the whim of a racist cop who thinks in sci-fi fantasy cop terms I was arrested and thrown in prison by K.W. (Ken) McMurtrie, an immigration cop who tried to glamorize his role by
Click images for desktop size: "Frankenstein" by Universal pretending that I was a dangerous arch fiend so he could justify his budget. Then when his speculative case fell apart he lied and tied to justify his heinous acts. He doesn't care about people. Just about his superiors reaming him about going over budget.
In my friends neighborhood there was a mini scandal. Some 25 year old kid walked up to an old man and punched the old man until he was dead. No one could understand it.
Now I do know what happened. He'd just been released from Maplehurst.
You can't take a young violent man, throw him in a ell, abuse and debase him through a constant, clearly administratively approved series of verbal, physical and psychological abuse. Reduce his self esteem to less than zero and then give him nothing but time. No encouragement, no chance to improve himself, just encourage his violence, set him up to commit institutionally approved violence against other inmates.
Are the people who set up this system illiterate? Haven't they bothered to read or even be aware of the last 60 years of penal work and reform.
MAXSEX (Maximum Security) is harsh. I've visited prisoners in MAXSEC in Europe and the USA. I was treated with respect. So were the prisoners. The sort of behavior exhibited by the guards at Maplehurst would not have been tolerated at any of those prisons if only because the type of prisoners in MAXSEC would think nothing of killing a guard ho was insulting and belittling and threatening, but also because everyone knows very few MAXSEC prisoners get life sentences. Most of them will be out on the street. In a true MAXSEC prisoners case every effort is made to attempt to rehabilitate him to avoid just spitting killers back onto the street. They succeed quite often. More than 70%.
The prisoners at Maplehurst are NOT MAXSEC! Shoplifters are not MAXSEC. They do not promote a danger to others around them. Guys on two year sentences for being drunk and disorderly are not MAXSEC.
Maplehurst makes no attempt at education or rehabilitation. They punish. The punish the innocent and the guilty equally. But what else they are doing is training killers. You could even produce an argument proving it is intentional.
It was in the 1930's that it was shown that the treatment of prisoners especially in modes such as practiced at Maplehurst increased a prisoners propensity to violence and that propensity stayed with the prisoner long after his incarceration had ended. Repeat offenders increased and the repeat offenses were noted for their escalating physical violence.

Click images for desktop size: "Forest" by Unknown The punishment administered at hell holes like Maplehurst punishes society far more than it punishes the prisoner.
We got nearer my stop. The bus was over crowded and it was making my shoulder crazy.
I knew instead of thinking of the injustice of the recent past I needed to start thinking about the future or I'd be in trouble.
All I could think about was my puppy.
But she's not here.
Maybe she never will be again.
I refuse to accept that I deserve anymore punishment. I rebel.

Posted by David at 4:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Alone in the World" by Unknown Feeling worn down today. Been sort of off the past three days. Sick, flu like off.
I think it has to do with my body re-adapting to the meds that the prison medical care, (the finest available according to some idiots with agendas). My illness corresponds pretty exactly with the side effects of one of the heart attack drugs.
Good news is that Reina, my puppy's mom, is doing some better. Her gums are pink and she's livelier. The results of her blood test should come out today. I keep worried and hoping.
I'm worried also about getting my puppy home to me. Less than a thousand miles away but I'm bewildered. I miss her and it causes me pain. I hope she's different and not stressing.
I'm still job hunting. The only positive note so far is that my old boss wants to meet with me next week. One can only hope is the thing.
There were no new ads in the paper today or on any of the job sites I keep checking. I don't want this to let me down.

I've gotten a few emails wondering if I approve of the way the Canadian prison system runs. I guess because I'm just trying to relate facts and avoid editorial opinion it could lead people to wonder. Also that I find the facts so abhorrent that I presume anyone else would too.
The system I experienced is insane. For people with mental illness to be housed with convicts and people on remand is wrong. A civilized society would not accept it.
The MAXSEC (maximum security) system might have a purpose but to use it on shop lifters and immigration detainees is insane, cruel and vicious. Agin, no civilized society would tolerate it.
To use that onerous system for people on remand, people who are not guilty of anything is sick and beyond unfortunate.
To take a violent young man and to dump him in this system for 18 months and deprive him of a
Click images for desktop size: "Ava Gardner" chance to educate himself is sick and dangerous.
This mid twenties offender is on the dole, broke and bored he seeks release in drugs and alcohol. He gets violent and causes great distress. Now putting him in a place run by a corrupt authority and the guards are corrupt in my experience, an authority that derides, dehumanizes and insults at every opportunity is merely creating monsters that will reenter the fringes of society and reek and experienced hate filled havoc on society in general. THe havoc will be fueled in ignorant violence, the education given in a Maplehurst is to hone and improve the violence, to make it more devastating, permanent and overwhelming.
What rational being would expect different.
I've worked with young people who were already so marked by the system. They were hate filled, rage fueled and already written off. The game I teach and that I love taught these young men self respect, self worth. It gave them a place in society and once having a place they wanted to improve themselves and in improving themselves they sought and did improve society as a whole. They became politicians, professors, cops, firemen and happy working stiffs.
If the violent offender on the dole is taught a trade that he can excel at, where he can earn money to improve his life so he can afford to meet and associate with people who have similar goals to his; to be happy.
Letting an inmate read lets heir minds open to possibilities that might never have occurred to them. Allowing them to use their time to benefit themselves rather than to use the time pursuing violence and cultivating and nurturing the hatred that must well inside of them . . .
The best way to stomp out crime is education and hope. The best way to worsen and promote crime is via unjust punishment and the reduction of humanity.
Who doesn't know this? Who hasn't seen this proved out time and time again?
  
July 1, 2009

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Today was Canada day.
We were expecting lock down. On many holidays or even just very nice days enough guards would call in "sick" that the warders would decide they had insufficient staff and order a lock down.
Its amazing how much even an hour out of your cell can be missed.
To everyone's relief there wasn't a lock down. I was relieved as well as I expected my friend to visit so we could have our 20 minutes to discuss what had happened yesterday at my kangaroo court hearing.
I got yard. There was this guy I didn't know who kept eyeing me. I always spent the first 10 minutes of yard running wind sprints and every time I reached the wall and turned around I saw him staring at me.

Click images for desktop size: "Benny Goodman" Hosia, the Yardie, came over and warned me that the fellow checking me out was shanked. A shank is just a home made knife. They make a big deal about not permitting shanks at Maplehurst. We get toothbrushes with one inch handles, rubber spoons.
A shank is just a hunk of something that a hunk of metal can be tied to. There's plenty of concrete walls to use as whetstones to sharpen the hunk of metal into a stabbing weapon. If your patient enough it can become a slashing weapon as well, but that's harder to make.
With all their dehumanizing fussiness there's plenty of stuff around to make a shank.
When I finished running this guy came up o me and started to run at me. He lunged. I was lucky enough to turn aside. He fell and broke his wrist. His shank skittered on the concrete and I kicked it into the grated storm sewer.
While they were helping the guy out of the yard the rest of us were checking out the sewer. It was thick with cigarette butts and roaches (marijuana butts). When I'd come back late from getting my insulin shot most of the guards were unaware that any prisoners were roaming about. More than once I caught a couple of guards out in the yard passing a joint back and forth.

Click images for desktop size: "Artagatis" by Mortalitas Yard got extended a tiny bit because of the fellow's accident. We enjoyed that.
Back in my cell I tried to wait calmly. I really hoped my friend would show up and we could talk and plan and think about where to go with all this.
She never came.
Later I found out that she'd been downstairs waiting to visit. They kept her waiting for six hours before they could figure out that there were too many holiday visitors to get everyone in. knowing the guilty or the innocent makes you guilty in the limited guard mind. They treat visitors only slightly better than they treat prisoners.
I didn't know. I could only feel abandoned.
Even my muskrat didn't show up on his daily rounds. I worried for him.
That night when I did my blood sugars they were 6.8. The nurse proclaimed that was perfect. I was surly enough to say that I hadn't eaten in two days so that number was exceedingly high.
The nurse shuffled and said, I'm writing in perfect anyway."

Posted by David at 6:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Steel and Brass Cowards" by Unknown Not a good day yesterday.
Reina, my puppy's mom, dam, has cancer. She looked to be doing well with her chemo but this weekend she took a bad turn. Sunday she seemed better.
Today Reina will get a blood work up. Last time she had too many white cells and too man immature red cells. Hoping for the best for her. She gave my puppy all of her best traits. It would be sad and near devastating to have her leave.
It made me terribly sad and thinking I'll never see my puppy again.
I had to go to hospital. Two nitro pills and you got to go. They did an EKG. They believe my heart has worsened. With all its been through how could it not.
The arm is getting worse and worse. The pain more biting and the use of it almost nonexistent. Its not going to help n my job hunt, that's for sure.
I've not been able to sleep more than 2 hours at a stretch before it starts to bite me. It is annoying.
I filled out a lot of on-line job apps. It was tedious and repetitive. Much simpler to attach a resume, I think. No job looked golden but I have to try. And now its pouring rain.

June 30, 2009

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It was a rough morning.
Late last night I was told I had a visitor. I was stoked thinking my friend had shown up to tell me everything was in place and that the lawyer figured I was going to walk home.
When I got to the visiting room I was not put in one of the little glass walled rooms. I was in a
Click images for desktop size: "Women of Blue" by Evegney narrow corridor surrounded by three menacing guards.
A woman in an expensive looking peasant blouse and jeans came in waving a sheet of paper. She demanded I sign.
I asked, "What is it?"
She said, "Just sign it or you'll be sitting here for a year at least."
"Who are you?"
"I'm from immigration," she said, "this is an agreement for you to waive your right to a hearing. Just sign it."
The guards stated to chime in, with a solid jab in my ribs one yelled at me, "Sign the f___ing thing. I got better things to do."
"I need legal advice here. I want to consult a lawyer,: I said.
A poke in the stomach accompanied, "I got your f___ing lawyer a__hole."
It was apparent why this meeting was disguised as a "visit" and why it was happening in this tiny area. I figured that they'd finally gotten the police report back and were trying to save face.
"Look, what's the big deal. I've got the Detention Hearing tomorrow. Lets see what happens there. What's the difference if I sign it now or tomorrow. I mean, why would I waive my rights anyway?"
"Cause you ain't got no rights motherf___er. Your ass belongs to us," one of the guards explained.
The woman said, "This is a one time take it or leave it offer. We could fix it so you spend the rest of your life here."
"Without lawyer to advise me I'll have to pass. Look what's to stop
Click images for desktop size: "Johnny Cash" you guys from coming in the middle of the night and just dumping me over the border without my money or my property. Where's my assurances? I'll wait for the Hearing."
One of the guards made as if to really wallop me but he backed off. I was lead back to my cell with a lot of barking at my heels. I didn't listen to it. I was too wrapped up in thinking about why I was constantly denied legal advice, whether I'd made the right decision, and mainly, why hadn't my friend shown up to tell me what was in place.
I barely slept. The pain in my heart and in my arm kept me awake enough to fret. I listened to the screaming man and wondered if his incomprehensible shouting would ever fall into a lulling rhythm.
The next morning I was wrapped in uncool anxiety. Aside from the tension of my waiting the guards had enough of the screaming man. I watched six of them strap on their loaded gloves (black leather filled with powdered lead to make an invisible black jack-one mistakenly grabbed me by the shoulder once while wearing his. The pressure and weight compensated mightily for any lack of
Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Al Moore skill.)
There was no news then the guards filed out. Then there came the stretcher and the old guy was finally quiet.
I got to take a shower. I noticed that the hemorrhaging on my leg ha cleared up. It wasn't gone but it wasn't violently black any more. For the most part the leg looked normal.
I wasn't allowed to shave. No razors. I worried about my appearance in front of the hearing.
Then there was just more waiting.
And more waiting.
Finally the guard came and told me my hearing was happening now. I was steeled. I thought , "Hope for the best but expect less." I think Fritz Perl wrote that or maybe it was Milton Berle.
I hoped to walk into the hearing room/linch room and find my friend and a razor sharp attorney. I braced myself for no lawyer but my friend being there to give evidence and the real scenario I played in my head was me walking in there alone.
It wasn't a cynical thought process. It was merely reality.
I walked into the room and was surprised that there were two women there I'd never seen before. I assumed I'd keep the same prosecutor and judge. There was no one else there.
I was glad I'd played all three scenarios through in my head. The judge started the proceedings by turning on the tape recorder.
I said that I wasn't quite prepared. I'd been expecting a lawyer as well as a witness who would give evidence proving that the core evidence presented by the prosecutor was in fact false.
The judge looked flustered. The prosecutor said that there was no lawyer present for me. She said that my friend had appeared (she laboriously looked for her name in a sheaf of papers and still mispronounced her pretty simple name.)
I asked why my friend wasn't here to give her evidence and to offer bail to the court. Yeah, I was being very eloquent, using up my many hours of watching Jack McCoy.
"I spoke to your friend for nearly 30 minutes. She confirmed all that we have presented. Including her original call to the police and the fact she has had several conversations with Officer McVicar
Click images for desktop size: "Alice 19th" by Usagi since that incident. She did offer to post a nominal bail," the prosecutor said rapidly.
"How was my friend? Did she look alright? You didn't leave her upset did you?"
Flustered the prosecutor said, "no. She was perfectly fine!"
"Well, I maintain that my friends evidence is being either misinterpreted or being incorrectly presented. It seems shocking that she would not be allowed to be here to present the evidence herself."
"She confirmed everything!" the prosecutor interrupted.
"If she confirms all the facts of your case it seems you'd want her here to do the confirmation,"
I got thrown for a little bit of a loop when the prosecutor delineated the charges for deportation. It was no longer as being an unfit character. It was for being "Allowed to leave".
I didn't quite grasp this and no one was going to explain it to me. Quickly I was able to figure out that the first time I entered Canada my Drivers License picture was smeared. They sent me back to get other ID. That was it.
I pointed out that I'd been back in Canada several times. At least twice for Immigration demands to visit Canadian doctors and the ilk.
I have to admit it was clever of them, if more than a bit nasty to change horses in mid-stream like that. How could anyone prepare for charges that they didn't know existed.
Then there was a strange gaff. She claimed that I had signed the waiver. When I insisted I had not in the face of much pressure from physical intimidation she backed off slightly.
I then went into my argument about my health. I quoted Bob Moriarity, the recentness of my heart attack, the improper dispensation of my life giving medicines and the total inappropriateness of this local for "Allowed to leave" transgressions. I then pointed out the questionable actions of the prosecutor to send away a witness and offering up only here say evidence. I said my witness could also address the "Allowed to leave" charges as well as the original charges.
I ended by saying that due to my health and its continuing degradation due to the insufficient care available at a MAXSEC prison I should be granted bail. That I had never been shown to have violated any bail conditions and that it was my fervent hope to be able to return to the USA.
Before the judge could give her decision we were told we had to break for lunch . . .
I was lead back to my cell. There was a fight or something going on in block 8. All the UCF wannabee guards were chuffed and shouting they weren't going to miss this one as they ran off to get into the fracas.
In my cell I evaluated.
I was glad my friend showed up. Chagrined by the "evidence" the prosecutor had presented as being from her. I decided the prosecutor was likely lying. I tried to read the judge. I decided that even
Click images for desktop size: "Alice 7" by Vlad Studios though I'd presented a strong case she was going to search for reasons to disallow the bail. She never looked at me when I spoke but always looked at the prosecutor. She also had the freakiest ass I'd ever seen on a human being. It was like someone stuck a pillow in her pants. Her rear end extended four inches beyond her hips on each side.
After a tedious two hour wait we went back to the lunch room. As I figured the judge decided I should remain in jail. Some of her statements were alarming. She concluded that the health care in Maplehurst was the finest available!! Then she concluded that, and I will never understand this, that a cash bail was insufficient for me. That my friend did not have enough influence over me to insure I would show up for hearings. And that she believed that to avoid deportation I would flee into Canada . . . RAH!
After the prosecutor allowed me to sign my one chance only waiver. She insured me that I would get a minimum of 48 hours notice before they would remove me and that my friend, as my common law wife would receive the same notice so she could bring me clothing and money.
Never trust the government. Any government. They are all liars. You always need a good lawyer. You have to trust someone even when its someone it looks like you shouldn't. I've always believed that but I never imagined how right I could be.
I waited for my friend to show up that evening so I could tell her what happened. She never did.

Posted by David at 4:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Irises" by Vincent Van Gogh Woke up in screaming pain from my shoulder. Very bad.
I see the doc's today at 3:30. I hope they have some sort of miracle pill to calm this thing down.
I'm far from impressed with the miracle of Lantus insulin. I thought it was starting to kick in. I got hypoglycemic trembles. Had to eat the glucose tablets to get them to stop, but it appears it was more from me not eating anything for 12 hours than the drugs.
Here's to today.

Football last night. It was good for me. It wasn't good in general but it was far from the worst session I've ever been involved in. The organizers' hearts are in the right place they just don't have the skills to pull it off.
The Equipment Manager and the Team Manager are stellar.
Saw 118 kids yesterday. No stud athletes. That's no big deal. They were kids. Some showed potential. Potential is all that they need right now. In general the kids seemed eager to learn, eager to play they just have no clue as to how.
I ran the agility section with the 6 inch agility hurdles. This is one of my and a lot of other coaches favorite sets of drills. We used to run these drills with "step over bags" which were about the same height as the hurdles and about six inches broad. One of the evolutions in sports science is how even this small thing has changed.
Originally the step over bags were about 12 inches high. The point then was getting the players to get their knees high, like stepping over arm tackles and flying bodies. Gradually it dawned on us that getting the knees high slowed the player down, it was not efficient use of kinetic energy. The step over bags got shorter and shorter. Virginia Tech was then using one inch plywood, eight inches wide and five feet long, as step over bags, getting the placement of the player's feet and legs while letting their knees and feet stay low and
Click images for desktop size: "Indomitable" by Unknown flowing to the motion instead of chopping against the motion. And now we accomplish the same thing with little plastic hurdles.
Part of me resists the change over. There are certain elements I think need the five foot long bags to properly implement. Since they don't have any step over bags and as raw as these kids are my normal concerns about finding a replacement drill aren't needed here.
I started with the "Bunny Hop". Six hurdles, 1 yard apart. The kids are supposed to keep their feet together and hop over each hurdle, one hop per hurdle. I had intended this as just a warm up and not part of the evaluation. Two thirds of the kids could not keep their feet together at all. One third could not clear each hurdle with one hop per hurdle. About 10% faded out and couldn't complete the drill.
They wanted to grade three drills. The single step, where the kids run through the hurdles taking one step to clear each one, come to the end, turn left, explode forward five yards turn left again and run through a second set of hurtles.
Then there was the side step, same drill basically.
The final drill were the in and outs. Just a weave going forward, side step, then backwards. What I look for are eyes, good football stance and good arm motion.
In West Texas and California high school ball 95% of the kids would have been given a 1. I gave most of them 3's. I only graded three kids as 1's and 4 kids as 4's. No 5's. I figured I should use a bell curve and not a rigid standard.

Click images for desktop size: "Gloria Swanson" Even the experienced kids kept their eyes on the ground trying to watch their feet, had no arm movement and no sense of precision. I tried to give them visualizations of what they were doing and why. They liked that. I gave the 4's more based on effort than skill. I like effort.
My friend ended up not working with me. She had to start and do the 10 yard time on the 40's. During a water break I glanced at her sheet. I was impressed I saw a few 5's and several 4's! Kids hitting 4 seconds in the 40's make my heart glow. Until I realized I was looking at the wrong column and the 4's and 5's were the 20 yard times!
Watching a few of them run it was apparent they all needed just some fundamental work. With times like that I can get some massive miraculous seeming improvement. I think the kids will work hard enough to accomplish that.
Since most of you know that my coaching technique involves trotting along the athlete and encouraging and exhorting I realized I trotted about two miles yesterday! I was pretty shattered
Click images for desktop size: "Hug Me Forever" by Jana Jelovac after practice. But it felt good.
We have to go again on Thursday. I'm going to push to take over my friends job and run the 40's. The kids clearly need some coaching there. That was my biggest surprise. I didn't hear any coaching, just instructions.
Oh, after practice we stopped and bought whistles! Just regular whistles. I still like loopy ones but that could terrify the parents.
That was the oddest part of the day for me, the 200 or so parents who just sat in lawn chairs on the side lines. I still don't quite know what to make of that.

New foster dog has decided he likes us. He spent much less time humping foster dog and more time hanging out with me and my friend. Yesterday he had no accidents in the house.
He was crated for about 4 hours while we were at practice. I hung out outside for 10 minutes before we left. There was no evidence of the bad behavior his previous fosters experienced.
New foster is a good little dog. He wants to be loved. Boy, does he not know anything! I think as he gets a bit calmer, he'll learn.
Foster dog has two more applications! No word on whether they are acceptable. Foster dog is pretty special. He's struggling to learn, struggling to find out how to fit in. He's a pretty great guy.
I took the Original Trio, gentle dog, my puppy and giant dog, on a walk with just the three of us. They needed the reassurance. My puppy not so much. She;s been through all these fostering things before. She stays steady. Gentle dog needed reassurance that he's still special the most, even more than giant dog who is is very insecure and jealous.
My friend bought me a new hard drive! A 500 gig Western Digital.
I'm not looking forward to installing it. The iMac case is NOT user friendly. There's so much tape and putty etc that it can get pretty overwhelming. Too many tight gentle windings to break, too many glues to distort.

Click images for desktop size: "Ella Fitzgerald" by Bernardine I did it before. I'm going to check around and see if I can get someone to instal the drive for 50 bucks or so. I figure 50 is about how much my fear is worth.
I feel oddly reluctant to let the computer out of my hands.
No issues from the "lost" files. I'm hoping it was just cache files or something.
I'm worried that I've loaded all these responsibilities on my friend, football practice, vets and doctors when she got hit with some ridiculous deadlines at work yesterday. I have to think of something reasonable so she can get her business and recreation done while I handle myself better.
I mowed half the yard yesterday. Not much of a contribution to her ease of mind.

Posted by David at 4:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Her Blue Eyes" by Unknown Pain in my shoulder woke me at 4, again. Last night I updated some of the Apple software. The QuickTime update required a reboot. I hate rebooting. Now I can hate it with even more purpose.
The restart began and then the computer turned itself off. Did that twice more.
I rebooted in single user mode (command line stuff) and ran a disk repair (fsck). The disk was unrepairable. The binary tree catalog had become corrupt. That's the entire file system . . .
I'd gotten lazy and hadn't done a full back up since Sunday. I was able to boot from my back up. 2 and 1/2 hours later DiskWarrior was able to repair the problem. At least for now.
I guess I'm going to have to start doing twice daily back-ups until I can find a replacement drive I can afford. DiskWarrior reported that I've lost 36 folders and 18 files . . . I don't know what they were. A quick visual scan doesn't show anything terrible. Maybe I got lucky and it was some cache files or something.
I replaced the drive in the iMac almost 3 years ago. A Seagate Barracuda. It was a terrible job. One I'm not looking forward to attempting again. What choice do I have? Last time I broke the DVD drive. Maybe I can fix that or replace it.
Working on the iMac is worse than working on a notebook.
If I suddenly cyber-vanish, well, you know why.
I remain grateful for IMAP. No fear of losing any emails, at least. Even when I don't answer them I like to have them.

Yesterday was strangely busy. Five dogs had a lot to do with that. Five dogs and thunderstorms.
My friend got to come home early, she got to work from home. Her MacBook running Parallels is doing studly duty, I think.

Click images for desktop size: "Modern Woman" by Unknown We had a good discussion about the football tryouts this evening. I was just pulling out of my zombie state, where I'm resisting passing out. I hate naps.
My friend sometimes resists discussions. I think she sees them as arguments and with my propensity for going ballistic I worry that I engendered that. She was at one of the meetings about the tryouts.
At the meeting I heard, "The coaches won't do anything but observe and evaluate the players."
She heard, "The coaches will be assigned drills to run so best come prepared to work."
Pretty contrary.
Somewhere in there she said, "You don't approve of any coaches except the ones you trained." I could immediately think of at least a half dozen coaches I worked for who I liked and also thought were pretty good, better than me in most ways.
The end result of the conversation was positive for me. It reminded me of a truism that I have always held but in the middle of the volunteer coaches I know it is easy to forget.
The main point of sport at this age and this level is to help the athletes to be better people not just on the field but in society, in their neighborhoods.
No person is really capable of teaching that sort of skill. But it can be taught. A coaches job is to train the athlete to be the best that he can be. The real beauty of football is that its teaches more than
Click images for desktop size: "Doris Day" I ever could.
My aphorism has always been, "I teach them how to play the game. The game teaches them about life."
All men are, by instinct, competitive. For me to be successful as a coach, and I think I have been successful, it is important I rise above my animal instincts and not get sucked into who's better, best.
Working with pros I never had an issue knowing that. Amateurs, volunteers who are giving freely and deserve love and respect for their efforts made me forget that, if only just a little bit.
Remembering that changes my attitude greatly. Remembering my place in the great scheme of my goals is important. Even though I made my friend uncomfortable the conversation was important to me for that and several other reasons.

The five dogs . . . oh boy. New foster and foster dog are tight buddies. Even if it involves a lot of humping. They are both doing better and better each day. New foster still gets too nervous but he's starting to laugh and smile. When my friend or I upset him he now goes to look for one of us to protect him from the other!
He's not housebroken and had another accident, urinating in the exact same spot! I need to buy a
Click images for desktop size: "Geisha Dream" by TitusBoy newspaper so I can cover that spot.
We had another small incident. Giant dog is incredibly jealous, He attacked, not viciously, the new foster. The little guy ran and hid under a chair but let my friend coax him out. Just too many dogs and giant dog doesn't like us talking so much to the new guys.
Foster dog has had some intrest from forever homes. One was rejected out right. They'd adopted and returned two animals previously. The other two are lets wait and see right now. The new foster has a woman willing to wait for him until we can see how he really is.
My friend points out that with 5 dogs we cannot do a proper assessment as to how he'd do on his own with just him and a person.

I watched a terrible movie yesterday. A BBC documentary. In this country we have a strange idea of the BBC. I've disliked them and continue you do so. The doc was "The Rock and Roll Singer."
It claimed to be an impressionistic view of a rock & roll tour from 1969. It was impressionistic becasue it had no point of view, no story to tell, and no skill in resolving it.
Still the 45 minute film was fantastic becasue the rock & roll singer was Gene Vincent. It was his tour with The Wild Angels" as his back up band.
Even inept filmmaking couldn't conceal the man's genius, his talent as a musicain as he rehearsed with the band. His insanity and his charm.
Although he was 34 at the time of the tour he looked well over fifty. He'd be dead in two years, dead from excess. There are five live numbers in the film, shot with a static single camera. That;s all he needed. When Vincent sang he collapsed the world in on itself.
The only effective filmmaking was a couple of pointless moments of Vincent walking around London, dragging his crippled leg around his corpulent body looking sadly at the world. Then there were the
Click images for desktop size: "Advocation" by Unknown moments after the show where he had to fret over getting paid. He was worried about himself but there was also the worry about getting the band paid that seemed pre-emminent.
Even when they attempted to provoke and in each spontaneous moment there was no scandal, nothing to uglify, all there was is a drunken, sad man who still held close to the idea of being a Southern Gentleman in all things.
Gene Vincent. Even talentless hacks can make art when you have a demi-god to point your camera at, a demi-god who was also so very mortal and so little different from you or me.

Posted by David at 8:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Experiments Gone Wild" by Unknown Five dogs is too many dogs!
At least it seems that way today. Chances are that after a week or so it might very well change.
The new foster is a pathetic story. His story bears constant repeating. He's three years old; has no training whatsoever, not even housebroken. His front teeth have been knocked out. I've no concept of why or the method used. He has worms and it appears to be long term and never treated previously.
He lived with another dog. The owner of the pair went to court and was told to get rid of the dogs or face jail time. (We're not allowed to know what he was arrested and tried for. I understand that even scum must be protected even when it frustrates me.) He took the dogs to the pound and gave them instructions to kill them. They
Click images for desktop size: "Keith Richards" were on 24 hour death watch when they were rescued.
The new foster was with another experienced foster family and for some reason he was destructive there. They couldn't cope with him. So he ended up here.
At first he was pretty crazy.
He's been recently neutered but still tried to hump every dog in the place. Our three told him off pretty quickly, since he's about half the size of the smallest here the new foster had enough sense to back off. Except that foster dog, also recently neutered, doesn't seem at all concerned. New foster humps him constantly. Foster dog just goes about his business with this little dog humping whatever part of him he can latch on to.
Its a bit annoying but oddly seems to have calmed both fosters down immeasurably! Strangely my memories from adolescence don't consider dry humping as much of a relief . . . It works for them.
New foster has had two "accidents" in the house. I think they weren't accidents. I think he did it on purpose. He defecated within the first 20 minutes in the house. Last night he urinated by the book case.

Click images for desktop size: "Elements-Fire" by LawnElf He's been very good other than that. He's accepted being crated at night. My friend thinks he's a Pariah dog mixed with Basenji. There's no reason to dispute this, although I think the breed name is unfortunate. He certainly vocalizes like a Basenji, no barking but lots of odd little vocalizations.
He won't let his picture be taken. Dog myth about his soul being stolen? He eats more than the giant dog!
Today is going to be stormy. Beau coup thunder and lightening. We'll see how it goes.
He's a cute dog ad incredibly good natured. Stubborn about his dislikes but no real problems.
Today I have to schedule an appointment with the vet for both foster dogs. Foster dog for booster vaccines and heart worm meds. The new foster for worming (fecal sample!! yuk . . . )
They both need baths. I'm not sure if I have the strength for that.
My arms are killing me. I find it monotonous. On Saturday I was making the bed and flipped the duvet. It locked my arm up. I couldn't move it for twenty minutes.
A couple of years ago I accepted the new pains and took some pride in being able to survive and assimilate them. But now the hurt just makes me weary. My doctor appointment is on Weds. I'm hoping that there is some sort of reasonably quick treatment available.
I'm getting better at suddenly becoming left handed but if I lose my concentration and use my right hand for almost anything I pay too severe a price.
I have other fears about the doctor this trip. I don't think the Lantus (insulin) is working. I think that they're going to try me on a different type of insulin.
Two hours after eating a kiwi my blood sugars were 15.8! I had nothing else to eat after that and my blood sugars were down to 9.1. This is not good.
This morning they were at 8.3. They should be around 4. I was getting very similar results with just the pills. I'm up to 27 units of insulin. Starting to push the envelope. When they started me on metformin I had to get up to the maximum allowable dosage before I started to see results.
I've finally adjusted to the side effects of the Lantus. The trembling in the morning is gone, as is
Click images for desktop size: "Fallout 3" by Unknown most of the nausea and the extra hand cramping. Its a bit discouraging to have to imagine going to another type of insulin and additional side effects.
For some reason, maybe medical, I had it in my head that player tryouts were on Saturday. They're tomorrow and Thursday. Over 350 kids to look at and evaluate. At least I'm primarily an observer and won't have to run any of the drills or do much instructing. I have to get together the pad so my assistant (actually my friend) will know what I want and need recorded. I'll probably keep my little scraps of paper going to insure that I get all the data I can.
A lot of the drills will be worthless, I'm certain. For some reason my fellow coaches want to make sure that there are "fun" drills in the package. I think they underestimate the young athletes. The fun they'll have is in testing their limits, comparing themselves to their teammates, not doing "fun" drills that accomplish little for them or in terms of evaluation.
From what I've seen I expect that some of the drills will be run incorrectly which will also make them rubbish. I worry about being judgmental but then I remember that six of the coaches I trained went on to coach professionally. One in the Div III championship game. I think I've paid the price to believe I have a glimmer of what things should be done.
I don't want to be judgmental. These guys aren't professional coaches. I suspect I'm the only one with a degree in physical education. For some of their swagger its also obvious that I've had more experience and success than the rest of the coaches combined. I admire that they're willing to work with the kids, that they have the drive and willingness to do the job. I know the rewards that come from coaching. They're huge. But they are not the sort of rewards that appeal to just anyone.
They deserve respect and have earned the right to be proud of what they're doing. I'll remember that even if I think they're being dumb.
Most of you know that I am capable of a dumbness greater and more profound that it is reserved only for the well meaning and the oblivious.
I'm going to wrap my shoulder and arm, maybe even wear some sort of sling. I don't think me rolling on the ground cursing in unintelligible grunts and groans will do much for my image with the kids.

Posted by David at 7:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Division" by Robert Randtoul I was feeling somewhat better. Up at 4:00. Just over 3 hours of sleep but no where as bad as I've been feeling until . . .
I set my pills out. One of them started to roll off the table. Without thinking I caught it. Wish I hadn't. The quick move made me see black. Vision back in just a few seconds but the pain doubled me up for nearly 15 minutes. Still feel it 40 minutes later.
The deep nausea is much better this morning. Maybe I'm getting used to the insulin. Its not doing me much good as far as I can see. The injections still hurt. It makes me feel edgy right afterwards. I went to sleep with a good blood sugar count of 7.0 and woke up with a 12.4! Stupid body. Stupid pain.

Were getting a new foster dog today. An emergency placement. The dog was surrendered by the owner with another dog. It was one of those things, "Surrender the dogs or face jail time". So you can tell the guy has had a nice three years so far. He was going to be put down. Clearly fair. His abusive owner avoids jail time but the dog gets the death penalty. That's justice. Clearly being victimized was the dogs fault.
His front teeth have been knocked out. He's not housebroken. He's not crate trained. He has bad separation anxiety. I don't see much there that justifies the death penalty. Five dogs in a tiny house bothers me just a little. My flailing health and dealing with two fosters bothers me just a little bit more.
Looking ahead next weekend we'll be gone most of the day. My football teams "evaluation". I hope that a week with us will get the new foster enough time to know he's safe here and that we can be gone without him panicking.


Click images for desktop size: "Elegance" by Richard Mohler I am totally bugged by Obama. With all of the rhetoric he's going totally 19th century when it comes to consumer rights. And he's showing a deep hatred for the handicapped. I thought he was avoiding the sickening presence of lobbyists? It was one of his big promises, wasn't it?
There's the International Copyright Treaty convention going on. The Obama administration has presented an opposition to the treaty. He opposes books for the blind and for the handicapped. You know, people with no arms, people paralyzed from the neck down. Obama is sickened that these slackers have been getting a free ride at the expense of poor down trodden publishers. You know those poor publisher guys who need to park their Escalades in the Handicapped parking spaces at the grocery store.
The RIAA, MPAA and the publishing lobbyists are recorded as having open access to Obama. They decided that the Handicapped have had it their own way too long. No more free books in braille, no more handmade books on tape. The handicapped, according to Obama, have got to start pulling their own weight around here. I guess he figures they're handicapped, what right do the handicapped have to be informed or educated. They should just stay inside in the dark and out of sight.
This is the most repellant thing imaginable. The only reason for their opposition, at least the argument they presented to the conference was the verbatim page from the copyright lobbyists website, so you know Obama is watching out for us and not being unduly influenced.
Revolting.
More revolting is that come election day no one will remember this gross cruelty. No one cares much now. Its only the lost, the powerless, the disenfranchised. And that we will allow them to be exploited and forced into the shadows, deprived of basic human rights is revolting. It's not a country I can be proud of.

Posted by David at 7:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Californian Farm Sunset" by 0videoman I don't think its a good sign that I'm waking up feeling worse than when I went to sleep. It all feels so contrarian. Like a nap should cure a head ache or an upset stomach. Shouldn't it.
I'm feeling rotten. Worse than I've felt in years. No where near as bad as the first chemo but remarkably bad all the same. Hands all cramped up, stomach twirling, eyes struggling to focus through the head ache and my skin feels hot and clammy at the same time.
What a mess I've become.
Most of this was predicted as side effects to starting insulin. They're supposed to go away. I'm up to 25 units a day now with no stabilization in the offing. It bothers me that I was getting similar blood sugar numbers with just the pills and vigorous exercise. To have the expense and the discomfort as well as the psychological numbness from having to do the injections and not see any radical bim bam improvement is disheartening. This wretched feeling only adds to the malaise.
I've been using hot moist heat on my shoulders and elbow. It doesn't do anything to relieve the neuropathic pain but it does loosen up the other muscles that were clenched tight. It provides minimal relieve but minimal seems like a lot right now.
I looked it up and 25 units of insulin is equal to about one third of a milligram. I'm clearly astonished that I carry around a big old gland like a pancreas and all it does for all the care I give it is to produce about one third of a milligram of insulin a day. Its even more distressing to accept that I'm so vulnerable that a drug about the size and weight of a snow flake or half the size of a mosquito should have this devastating effect on me.
My friend is home from her conference. I opened the gate for her to drive into the yard and she ran over this big rock we keep by the gate for propping the gate open. The rock is about 10 inches in diameter. It didn't hurt the car but it did bounce the rock into my foot. My big toe is all blackened. It
Click images for desktop size: "Silent Passage" by Unknown shows how bad off I am that I barely notice the pain from a traumatic injury.
I was glad to see my friend. I struggled hard not to pass out. By the time I'd sorted through that she'd fallen asleep! She slept for nearly 14 hours. Poor thing, she must have needed the rest.
She went into work today because she's the only management person who'll be accessible today. She took the giant dog and the gentle dog with her! That will be interesting for her and for her co-workers!
I'm going to miss them but I'm glad they're getting a break.
There was an upsetting incident with the foster dog yesterday. We took about an hour walk and been home about 15 minutes when I heard a bad bit of snarling and whining.
The foster dog had pressed the gentle dog into a corner and was snarling and biting at his neck. Gentle dog was not resisting but was clearly suffering. I pulled the foster dog off. He made no act or aggressive motion towards me.
The gentle dog was rattled but not physically harmed. He was upset but the one who was the most upset was the giant dog. He was trembling and stuck close to me for the next few hours. He was far more upset than the gentle dog.
The foster dog is subject to aggressive play. He initiates every play period and will not relent until the dogs play with him. After the attack they refused to deal with him for a couple of hours, all except my puppy who will only play with him if he plays her games.
Most of this is just a dog trying to figure out his place in the pack. Clearly he is not going to challenge me as the alpha dog and he's not interested in challenging my female puppy but he's using the
Click images for desktop size: "Count Basie" aggressive play to attempt to dominate the two males.
The only solution I have is to watch them carefully and when the foster begins to play and the playing is not reciprocated and continues to press he'll have to go to a time out.
The aggressive play indicates a lot of things. Breaking him of that bad habit may open him up to concentrating more clearly and being less stressed.
Its a saga.
One thing I might have known but didn't realize is that gentle dog was neutered late in life. This is odd to me because he is so gentle and happy, not in the way I associate with late neutered males. He was actually being used as a stud in the puppy mill he was rescued from which makes his gentleness and lack of aggression even more moving.
He still likes to bite me though . . .

For some reason I found myself thinking about Irvin Kershner. He's a film director there's no reason
Click images for desktop size: "The Call of the Wild" by Cole Phillips for anyone to know about except that for some incomprehensible reason he was picked to direct the "Star Wars" sequel, "The Empire Strikes Back". As I consider that to be the only watchable episode of "Star Wars" I find it interesting Lucas picked Kershner, a man whose career, up till then, had been defined by good but not remarkable gentle movies about people. There was never any hard edged cataclysms in Kershner;s movies. In "A Fine Madness" the hero, Sean Connery, is a poet who gets a lobotomy as a by product to trying to avoid jail for late alimony payments. in "The Flim Flam Man", George C Scott plays a con man who prowls the rural south. Scott is old, self aware, charming and sad without any bitterness.
Kershner's movies tended to be enjoyable, reasonably successful. How this translated out to working on a cash cow and making that cash cow the most interesting of the series is something worth contemplating.
Today figures to be much like tomorrow, with me trying to hold on. Friday is my friends "TV night". I've got the roomba running in the living room. I like to get everything nice so she can just veg out and enjoy the only show she watches. I'm still a believer in the Spartan aesthetic, and part of the asthetic is cleanliness. Even if she doesn't notice it makes me feel good getting it together for her.
I've learned how to move so as not to create any enormous pain for myself. I sort of had to. The sun has finally come out after 4 days! So it might be a better day.
There's no reason it shouldn't be. No reason it couldn't be.

Posted by David at 10:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Click images for desktop size: "Business Lady" by Unknown One odd thing that bothers me; when I dance and prance around to the music playing either in my head or on the iPod I used to feel liquid and elegant, now I feel stiff, jerky and unbalanced. Of course, that's just the way I feel. Maybe someone watching me sees me as smooth and swirling as I used to be (and yeah, I practiced my dancing in front of mirrors). Maybe everyone else always saw me as stiff, jerky and unbalanced. Everyone has their right to an opinion on my dancing. Naturally if you feel that way I'll have to fight you and my puppy would help me.

I'm not doing well.
I'm even gladder that the diabetic nurse called me. For some reason its better feeling miserable knowing that this is just normal adjustment of my body to the insulin than a new stage of misery unfolding before my life. Pain is not an enjoyable view of the future.
Yesterday was a loss. After the blood letting at the lab I got home loaded with ambition. They day turned out to me passing out for 45 minutes at a stretch then recovering then struggling to stay awake for more than a few hours.
When I went to bed for certain I woke up every 45 minutes, awakened by the pain. I'd keep trying to go back to sleep but at 3:30 I just gave up.
Now, three hours later, after all my meds and two cups of coffee I've managed to get past the nausea, my hands still feel cramped and my concept of arthritic. I've managed to hold my arms so that they and my shoulder are quiescent. The pain is just an easy endurable 2 on the chart, no worse than a bad headache.
I know I'm feeling better. My puppy has stopped her vigil, watching over me, and gone to sleep on the bed. I'm glad that she nor any of the dogs, don't see me as a god like master, but as another member of the pack that they love. My puppy loves me dearly. Sometimes I'm astonished at just
Click images for desktop size: "Dark Tower" by Marvel Comics how much she loves me. The same way I'm astonished at how much the gentle dog and the giant dog love my friend.
The foster dog isn't sure who he loves he just knows he desperately wants to love someone.
As much as I miss my friend I'm glad she's not here to see me like this. Its easier to suffer and throw myself around when there's no witnesses. I wonder what it is inside me that makes me refuse to show this much weakness even to people I trust.
Last night they kept my friend at her conference until stupid late. She had to rush to get to the concert she's had tickets for for nearly two months. They got to hear six songs . . . I like numbers so I figure that between the two of them they spent 15 bucks a tune! She doesn't mention whether they were good songs.

I'm going to try and accomplish something today. I need to for my own sanity and self respect. Its still a grim looking day. I'm going to take the dogs out for a walk. Maybe we'll meet some new people and new dogs. Then some household chores. I'll try and avoid the nap fever.
I keep thinking that at the doc's on Wednesday they'll give me some pill that will like instantly knock out the terrible pain. I was even looking for the terrible mood elevator pills that they don't ever give as a mood elevator because it stinks at the job it was designed for. They use it for neuropathic pain almost exclusively. I hate the pill because it makes me feel like I'm hung over for a few days after taking just one.
I'm already feeling badly hungover so . . . the pills were expired for
Click images for desktop size: "Janis Joplin" two years. I feel better about that. I still have a knee jerk reaction to depending on pills. To relying on something outside of myself.

I'm up to 23 units of insulin. I discovered that the SoloStar, the "pen" I use to inject the insulin, locks down at the amount of insulin it still contains. The last dose in it was 14 units, which meant that I had to inject myself twice. Not too surprisingly the second injection was much more painful and annoying. I resisted the temptation to re-use the same needle to boot. I used a fresh one but it still hurt.
It was annoying having to use a fresh needle. they're relatively precious. I'm relying on the free samples the diabetic nurse gave me. It seems that since the doctor didn't prescribe them I have to pay a serious price for them. He has to write a script for needles then they're a lot cheaper. I'm asking him for one when he gives me the script for the pain pill they decide on.
My blood sugars are still all over the place. Its annoying. My diet is good. Last night before the
Click images for desktop size: "Buffalo Hunt" by Charles Russell injections they were acceptable 8.1. Six hours of fasting later they are at 10.8! I still have to take all the pills I had to take before, the metformin and the glyburide (metformin makes my body more sensitive to insulin while glyburide squeezes what ever insulin there can still be left in my pancreas) the blood sugars are at 11.6! They should be in the 4 to 5 range.
I don't know what to make of it. I'll just keep doing the routine and see what comes off.

I was curious to see if anyone had been listening to the RIAA free music on the jukebox. I was a bit lost as it looks like no one has even taken a look at it. Maybe the feeling is that if the RIAA isn't willing to sue you for listening to it the music isn't very good. I disagree with that. There's some stuff there that I think is better than most of what's out there. I guess you have to like guitar music.

My puppy just came in to check on me. She's laid down beside me and is checking me intently. I'm going to feed her now and then we'll take off for our walk, she, I and the other three. I always feel lucky when I look at them all. I wonder what good things I ever did in life to deserve such affection, trust and friendship. I wonder that always. Funny, I never wonder what I'd done to deserve all the hell.
My puppy just got up and stopped the foster dog from coming in to jump on me (bad habit we're still working on). My puppy, my nurse and care giver.
To the day. To this day and to all the other days to come.

Posted by David at 7:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Click images for desktop size: "Red Umbrella" by Marta DahligModestly bad news on the health front. (My health has plenty to be modest about.)
Last night my blood sugars were at 12.7. I injected 18 units of Lantus (insulin). I was awakened at 4:30 by barking dogs and our guys wanting to go out and bark fight with them. I took my blood pressure and it was 150 over 80! My blood sugars were at 16.4. The blood sugars haven't been that high in years (?).
Three hours later the blood reports 10.5.
I feel frustrated.
I have to wrap my arms in elastic bandages just to move. It makes me feel like a Frankenstein monster in swaddling clothes. The bandage compression doesn't help the diabetic inspired neuropathic pain, but it suppresses the severe pain and cramping in the other muscles.
I haven't been able to stretch for months. Not even the old fashioned yawn-ey stretch in the morning thing, so that the muscles around the affected areas have started to knot up from the tension. I mean really know up. At first I thought I'd developed a series of tumors! I try and work them out with out much success.
(To understand how pain just below the shoulder point of the right arm and the elbow of the left has trashed my shoulder, neck, and clavicle I always use the story of Dizzy Dean. Dean was a hot shot Hall of Famer for the St Louis Cardinals. He broke a toe on his left foot. It annoyed him but it was just a small hurt, The Cardinals needed him. He needed the money so he figured he could easily pitch through the little pain. He pitched two games before he injured his arm and was out of baseball for good. His left foot was his pivot foot and the little pain forced an unnoticeable change in his delivery. His body compensated to avoid the pain and this produced enough torque in his elbow to tear the ligaments. They didn't have the
Click image: "Kessel Energy Spider" by Dragon Winter surgical techniques to repair it back then so a stubbed toe ended the career of one of the best pitchers in baseball.)
I'm starting to get angry about it.
The foster dog had a mild blow too. The perspective parents abruptly backed out. They claimed a family emergency that will necessitate them being in India for several months. I suspect if we had approved them and let them take the foster dog home they'd have called us in a couple of weeks and asked us to take him back. This is a pretty evil thing to do to a dog or a person. The timing is at least good for him.
I like to kid myself that I'm perceptive enough to have realized that these would have been the sort of people who would not see a dog as family, Any family emergency would, in my little world, have included the puppy.
Poor guy, but it could have been worse. He's a good pup. He'll find a home.
My goal with foster dogs isn't to move them out and sell them. I'm not involved in high turn over. I'm kind of known for making people jump through hoops. I want the dog and the people to all be happy together and to face life together. Love should not die.
The porch painting is progressing nicely. My friend is still having fun. That's the important thing. I don't care how long its taking so long as she has fun.
As the worst painter in any group I always get the cruddy job. Ceiling painting. It was hard because I had to extend my arms over head. It went alright though. The bandages got me through it.
It is finally looking like something. The color was supposed to be
Click images for desktop size: "Judy Garland" sand and look like stone and gravel. Its sort of a yellowish brown in execution. Nothing wrong with the color, just not what my friend expected. (To me it still looks like the inside of a translucent mushroom.)
Painting the ceiling I managed to drip paint on everything. My hair, my iPod even the giant dog has a couple of interesting splotches on him. They add personality . . . the last thing giant dog needs is more personality. I kept throwing him off the porch but the sight of me cursing and shouting in pain while standing on a ladder is just too appealing. Even my puppy comes and peeks at me. She walks away shaking her head.
Today I start of the floor. Being a porch I get to use the hose on it. For some unknown reason I'm looking forward to that. Sweeping it down and then spraying it with the hose. I wish we had one of those high pressure "thousand pounds of pressure hoses". That would be cool and potentially destructive!

Click images for desktop size: "Ricardo Del Cuore" by Titus BoyI still love the idea of potential destruction.
I also realized that I have a coaches meeting on Monday. This meeting slightly baffles me. Its to discuss drills to be done in player evaluation.
I'm confused because this is silly stuff and doesn't fit the pretty slick image they've presented to me. There are a core of drills. Watching a kid run them, watching him step over bags, watching him run, watching him strive to compete tells me all I need to know. It shows his heart and his present ability level. It shows his attitude.
When kids get psyched and say stuff like "I need to get the pads on. When I'm out there hitting people then I can really show them what I've got!"
The kids are wrong on that. I can tell what you've got by the way you plant your foot on a post corner cut drill. I can see how well you'll mix it up by the way your eyes follow me as you do the step over drills. I can tell if you've got the heart to be unbeatable by the way you check others heights on the vertical jump. I can tell how hard you can hit by your distance on the broad jump. Most importantly, how you do on that tell me what I have to teach you and what we need to do together to shape your body into what you want it to be.
I always note coaches who want full contact drills. I was asked to coach an All Star team in Europe. I and the other American coaches were google eyed when we saw one of the European coaches running "nutcrackers". Nutcrackers were punishment drills, made to "toughen you up" is some jerk of a coach thought you were slacking.
You give the kid a ball and set him out to run into three defenders with no protection. The defenders are about five yards off from the kid. The kid is guaranteed to get hammered. Some jerk college coaches use nutcrackers to get kids to quit the team and give up their scholarships.
We asked the European coach what he was doing. He was seeing if the kids were tough enough and really wanted to play. Since this was an All Star trial I sort of figured that had been answered.
That coach never beat any of our teams.
I'm afraid how many of my fellow coaches in this meeting will want to run full contact drills to see the obvious stuff that they should be able to see on their own.
Their argument will be that the kids love the contact. Some of them, most of them hopefully, love the contact. I like to keep the kids hungry for it.

Click images for desktop size: "Picture Book" by Robert F Blum Maybe I'll be surprised and the meeting will be to discuss some new drills that some crazy scientist has devised that safely and intelligently give even more diagnostic proof. Maybe.
My friend is going to have to end her vacation by going to this meeting with me. She's going to become my statistician! I need her to follow me around and record all the trials. Most of you have seen me on my own with my little scraps of paper with dozens of numbers rapidly scrawled all over them. Some of you have even given me nice little notebooks which, in a matter of hours, I have reduced to little scraps of paper that fall out of my pockets all over the field.
I figure she might enjoy the meeting and might get an idea of the information she'll be recording. She'll enjoy that. even organizing it into spreadsheets!
Time to feed the dogs and start on todays porch project!

Posted by David at 8:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "La Gutin" by Pavel Last night I went to sleep with my blood sugar at 5.4. That's pretty good. I injected 17 units of Lantus (insulin) and this morning my blood sugars were 6.4 which is on the bright side of  acceptable.
I'm eating lunch in a few minutes - cheap-o ramen. So in a couple of hours the verdict will be in on whether the insulin has finally kicked in and become a part of my body chemistry..

Click images for desktop size: "Bob Dylan"
People say I complain a lot, even about things I agree with and am happy about. I don't know about that. I think its a part of my constant consideration. Part of it is that I know there are too few golden chances in life. I don't want to miss one. Same part is that there are many traps, most of which we set for ourselves. I try and avoid those. Another part is that I think you have to consider all sides of a problem and an issue. I tend to do that in the front brain and sometimes it comes out aloud.
I'm also generally described as self deprecating. I had to look that one up. I don't think I ma at all. I just have a tendency to think about other things than myself first. I do have a huge ego. My only issue with self esteem is that I don't think others have enough of it.

Click images for desktop size: "Pin Up" by Earl Moran I also have a natural cynicism and stoicism that makes me seem crabby . . . okay, I am crabby.
This is all thinking about stuff when pain in my arms woke me up. Three times last night. Once so badly I woke everyone else.
I guess I don't know how to age gracefully. Aside from having a total jerk of a step-father my young life was gold. Southern California; I was a good, sometimes great surfer, stud athlete, played guitar in a band that made "rekkids". My teen memories are flooded with images of girls sidling up to me and whispering outrageous things into my ears.
Now I was heartened when the diabetic nurse looked at my records and said, "oh, I never would have thought you were that old!" My hamstrings are so tight I have to stoop to pick something off the ground. I can't put the dog food back in the fridge without grunting. I've got my arm wrapped in elastic bandage so I can nearly raise it over my head. I had 6 teeth pulled, which makes 9 I'm missing altogether. The psychological damage of the cosmetics hurt more than the novocaine needles.
I never imagined getting older would mean being less than what I always knew I was.
Somehow through all this I still know I can coach kids and teach them to be winners. I can still make enemies and I can still make friends. I can still not care what people think about me. I can still think highly enough of myself to stay true to myself. I can still be happy.
Happy thanks to my friend and my puppies.

It never rained at all last night. It is a golden day today. Might reach 80!! Too warm. I re-cleared the stuff from the porch so that the painting can continue today.
I needed the day off. A lot of the pain has recessed. I like the way the big project is looking. I like it better that my friend is still on vacation and finally starting to relax a bit. (She had to log into her work account yesterday. I don't really understand why. She just had to.
The puppies are doing well. Foster dog got a bit crazy yesterday. The kid next door is an ass. He was teasing the dog. I don't think he started out with malicious intent, but after I asked him to stop and he continued I got irked. With kids this came out as, "Please stop aggravating my dog. Thank you!" That stopped him as best as it could.
My friend thinks maybe the kid was abused or something. I've worked with enough abused kids to think the kid is just a bored ass.

Yesterday I mentioned my puppy's aunt. I mentioned her cat which is doing well in her struggle to survive. I wrote the cat was now 50. Okay. This was a typo. The cat is 15!
I think that counts as a retraction. Okay?

Posted by David at 12:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Nature" by Celso Junior Good news. Last night my blood sugars were 8.0 which is just a bit bad. This morning my blood sugars were 5.4 which is pretty good.
I had a breakfast of eggs, frijoles, kiwi and potatoes. Two hours later my blood sugars were . . . (testing) 12.3 . . . That's not too good. Should have been between 7 and 10.
I'm up to 16 units of Lantus (insulin) so it will be 17 units tonight.
At least there's some sort of reaction.

The perspective foster dog parents didn't come yesterday. They'll come to meet him on Friday or Saturday. He could care less. He's found his place in the pack. Now he just has to face his place in the house hold.
The only thing wrong with him is that he is the world's sloppiest drinker. He drinks savagely and leaves at least half of what he takes out dripping from his mouth. I've watched him gulp up a pint of water, turn his head and let it all fall out on the floor. Fortunately I don't mind mopping a lot.
Yesterday, while cleaning up the painting for the day, the giant dog and the gentle dog found a real funny joke. I left the front door open because it was nice. The pair of them came up on the porch and whined and wiggled to get me to open the door for them so they could go into the house. They plowed in and two 20 seconds later they were back up on the porch begging to get into the house . . . I looked at them with one of my looks and let them in.
Twenty seconds later they RAN onto the porch, giant dog was wiggling and laughing so hard he could barely shine so gentle dog scratched at the door to get in.
I let them in. Five seconds later they were both stumbling onto the porch shaking with laughter and collapsing on each other going to the door. I laughed too. This was a signal to attack me and try and
Click images for desktop size: "Peacock Phoenix" by Unknown lick me. I hate being licked which, to them, made this all the funnier.
I have to remember I like dogs.
While I see painting as something that needs to be done I knew my friend enjoys it. I underestimated how much she would enjoy it. She said she was having fun. She looked forward to it.
This held even though she discovered that the paint wasn't exactly the color she had envisioned.
We got the paint at the Salvation Army! Recycled paint. It was cheaper but not a steal. Still it looks cleaner. The old paint looked like the product of a drunken hippy pipe dream. Not real hippies but like those old guys who have dreams of hooking up with a space cadet hard body chick. The chick had dreams of going to design school or being a fashionista.
She was with the old guy only because she had nothing else to do and no money to do it with. She probably needed a place to crash that night. After a couple of drinks and a joint she was probably wrinkling her nose at the state of the place and came up with this whacked design scheme. Since this was a way to get the chick to hang out the old guy readily agreed and the end result was . . . this?
She probably left as soon as it was finished, probably with the guy behind the counter at the liquor store.
Now the porch will look like the inside of a mushroom on a sunny day . . . Which is still better.
All week long there was an 80% chance of rain last night and today. So last night I spent about an hour hauling all the stuff I'd taken off the porch back onto the porch. There's a lot. The porch is more a summer room that a porch (two chaise lounges and three tables sort of things as well as an incalculable amount of lamps. My friend had fallen asleep so I had to do it myself. Hurt myself early and often.
Today its mid sixties and there's only a 30% chance of rain tonight . . . I couldn't have worked anyway. Even taped my shoulders are both killing me, add in all the dings and I'm close to worthless.
Still a vacation day is a vacation day.
I did watch two movies last evening. Back in the 80's Dolph Lundgren was the next big thing. There was this xeroxed magazine you couldn't afford to miss by the Hollywood Kids. It was six pages of
Click images for desktop size: "No Peeking" by Peter Dribben the nastiest cattiest fawning gossip in LA.
When Lundgren was cast in "He Man and the Masters of the Universe" opposite Frank Langella as Skeltor they went ballistic to the point of sneaking into the Lundgren's costume fitting. They reported he was more imposing and gorgeous in real life even if he did have pimples on his butt.
I figure that's the mark of real adoring fame. Either when someone takes the time to notice the pimples on your butt or loves you despite them.
Of course then then movie came out and Lundgren wasn't hot anymore. It was really bad. Langella survived because he got to wear a mask through the whole movie. Lundgren did a lot of junk movies after that. He became irrelevant.
He had that one interesting flash with "Big SHowdown in Little Tokyo" but everyone put that off to the burgeoning star power of Brandon Lee. Then he sort of faded to direct to video.
I somehow got a hold of a copy of a movie called "Missionary Man" when I saw it starred Lundgren I left it on but proceeded to do chores while it played. It wasn't great but it was good and Lundgren directed himself in a way I guess he really wanted to be. Chaste, huge, dangerous with an leaning towards finer feelings that he and his character knew he would never fully grasp.
I liked it. Made me see his next (or maybe previous) direct to DVD thing called "Diamond Dogs". It really sucked.
But yesterday I watched the 1989 Lundgren "The Punisher". While
Click images for desktop size: "Ray Charles" not a gruesome as the latest Punisher flic its surprisingly good. Lundgren is very effective as the deranged revenge fueled anti-hero. Marvel Comics wasn't the power house production company it is now so this is just a cheapie (even though Stan Lee still grabbed a production credit).
It actually made me feel warmly for Dolph Lundgren, and the cheap but stylish sets and his lumbering presence made for a cool enough 90 minutes.
After that I watched a strange movie, "Method Man". Nothing to do with the rapper/movie star. Its a seventies kung fu flic. This may be the worst movie ever made but and this is a shock the action choreography and the fighters are superb! It makes no sense. But when the fighters are mixing it up it reaches level similar to Liu Chia Lang's glorious choreography of Philip Kwok in the Chang Cheh flics that followed it. The fighters fly around and perform astonishing purely physical feats that dazzle and delight then we get back to the dreadful story which makes little sense even by cheapie 70's kung fu standards.

Click images for desktop size: "One Puff" by Monogamez Today is my puppy's aunt's birthday. To celebrate her 50 year old cat, (CAT!) is still hanging on. Perhaps just to spite me and my puppy. I can live with that. This is one of those cats with the sense to wish she were a dog.
My puppy's aunt other celebration was that their flat panel TV blew up! An over priced Sony. But even then there's a birthday miracle. They got the extended warranty so they get a brand new, current model FREE!
I've never heard of one of those extended warranties ever working out for anyone before. Sounds like a good, no make that an excellent happy birthday to me. Well, it should be.

Posted by David at 1:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Hot Robot" by Lavakillu When I went to bed my blood sugars were 6.8. Acceptable. When I woke up this morning they were 11.6! It used to be the reverse of that. 11.6 is not good.
I'm up to 15 units of insulin. I have no idea how long before everything stabilizes.
Early Saturday morning I woke up with the worst headache of my life and I'm a guy who fractured his skull and had 3 concussions. It felt like a cheap description of a migraine. They warned me that headaches might be an early side effect to the insulin. I never imagined it would be like that.

We started the vacation project. Scrapped the entire porch and got the front porch 80% primered. It already looks better.
I tried wrapping my shoulder in an elastic bandage. It help considerably. I had a few twinges but only one drop me to my knees killer hurt. I worked through it. As everyone knows I'm stupid that way. It gentled up to an ache after a half hour.
I got whacked with overwhelming fatigue twice. There's no doubt that the fatigue from the insulin is a lot easier to push through than the leukemia fatigue. I'm pretty happy with how much work I got done. I expected to get more done than I did but, well, who wouldn't.
First coat today then will primer the back porch, there should be time to do that. Then have to bring everything back onto the porches. It is supposed to rain late tonight. I think the rain will come late enough to not mess up the paint.
If it rains all day tomorrow then we'll get to go to the Chinese Buffet!!
That will please the dogs no end. They deserve pleasing. They were very good through all the activity. Foster dog has settled in just in time to get adopted! There's been an application to adopt him and it has all checked out. They'll do the home visit this week. The potential adopters might
Click images for desktop size: "Korean Girl" by Unknown come today to meet the foster and to be harshly judged by my friend and me.
Harshly judged in that we want what's best for the dog and for them. The important thing is everyone be happy. I'm always predisposed to anyone who wants to have a good dog in their life. The foster is a pretty good dog. Not as great as my dogs but pretty great for all that.
One thing about all the painting is got to spend a lot of time with the iPod. Anything would have been better than the sound of paint scrappers on wood.
I like the new Green Day album "21st Century Breakdown". There's nothing as grabbing as "American Idiot", "Basket Case", or even "Geek Stink Breath" but its alright. I'm pretty disappointed with the new Queensryche, "American Soldier". I've been disappointed with Queensryche since "Empire", but one always has hope.
I'm surprised that my favorite album so far this year has been Offspring's "Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace". Weird. Since I only knew them from "Pretty Fly for a White Guy" it is shocking to discover that a novelty band could com out with a nice crunchy set of pop anthems. I particularly like "Stuff is Messed Up".
I've been trying to get my RIAA-Free jukebox up on the site. Its a complicated affair. One of those things I thought would be dead easy but is turning into a chore. It has mostly to do with permissions (unix file permissions) and folder structure than anything else. I'll keep on it. It will be a cool way to display music that needs hearing.
I wish I liked Nine Inch Nails and Radiohead more than I do. They're two bands who get it. They understand the world has changed and refuse to stick with the stupidity that is epitomized by the RIAA and the MPAA.
Got to be brief. Life is catching up to me and I don't want to miss any of the show.

Posted by David at 6:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Gunslinger Girl" by VM Before my injection my blood sugar was 6.8, just inside the target. This morning the count was 5.9, which is okay.
It bugs me that a couple of months ago I was getting better numbers just from the pills. For all the stigma and grief from the injections I was expecting something more dramatic from the insulin.
I have gotten a bit better at doing it. My stomach is sore from it. The hardest part is, well the whole thing is hard and tricky; holding the needle dead steady while it hurts is hard then pushing in the little plunger is tricky and uncomfortable but the part I got wired is holding the needle inside of me for a count of 20. It makes me cringe now, even thinking about it.
The reason is that if you pull the needle out too soon the insulin seeps out . . . Crazy.
The insulin is not improving the pain in my shoulders yet. Its still excruciating and stops me from doing things like putting on my jacket. and combing my hair.
I mowed the rest of the yard yesterday. It rained in the morning but then the sun came out and there was enough of a wind to dry out the grass. My left handed falling pull start still worked. I was able to grimace through getting the mower over and around all the hills and stumps and things.
I was concerned because I felt more exhausted than I should. Its a side effect that should level out. Quickly I hope. Getting fatigued stirs negative memories.

Today is a big day. An important day. It is my puppy's fourth birthday.

Click images for desktop size: "Kurbatova" by Playboy Four years old and in all that time we've only been apart about 15 weeks. Twelve weeks while she was being weaned from her mother. Three weeks when we moved. The three weeks were hard on both of us for exactly the same reason and with pretty much the same intensity and longing.
She may not be the perfect dog to anyone else but she and I are perfect together.
She remembers things I tell her and will do things to please me. She gets defiant and demanding. She gets angry. She gets loving and protective. She plays jokes and tricks on me. We bicker and fight. We play games that are meaningless to everyone but her and me.
Together we are a boy and a dog.
I never much liked the show "Cheers", knowing a couple of the writers didn't help, but I heard a part of one episode where one of the characters said he was writing a novel about a man and his dog wandering the corn fields and drinking beer. I could read a novel like that and picture my puppy as the dog.
The entire world would be a scary bad place if by some cosmic mishap she and I had never met.
I feel pretty much the same way about my friend.

This is my friend's last day of work. Vacation time.
Only a week but it will be nice for and for me. Except someone stupid, probably me, decided that the vacation should be spent painting the porch . . . how dull. I mean why ruin a vacation just because the house needs the work?
So it will improve our lives, what reason is that to ignore frivolous self gratification.
I hate painting. It will be fine. We might even laugh while we're suffering through the arduous chore.

We managed to get tickets for the Jack White tour. The one he's doing with that other side band of his, Dead something or other. I like Jack White and still think he's the guitarist of the 21st Century.
Click images for desktop size: "Punk" by Unknownk His shows don't disappoint. He's an entertainer. Of course on this tour he's playing the drums . . .
I always viewed the White Stripes as pretty much a solo act. I can imagine White dragging along his ex-wife as support. You just don't do solo acts with just an electric guitar. White showed you could.
Meg was a pretty poor drummer. She'd lose the beat a lot but White keep a more driving steady beat in his head. His work on the guitar still astounds me.
Its interesting seeing him not be the soloist with the Raconteurs, to lose a part of himself within a real band. Some of the work is excellent, none of it less than good but it felt like White was losing some part of himself, like he was being too deferential to his band mates. I would have been more interested if it had been "Jack White & The Raconteurs" instead of a true band. It would have been awesome seeing White's manic intensity with a back up band. The Raconteurs are a collaboration.
I've only seen YouTube Videos of the Raconteurs live. The stage show looks like the same sort of democratic sharing thing until White does "Bang Bang" the crazy Nancy Sinatra number. Its worth seeking out. It shows what White could do as the frontman.
This will b interesting. Jack White as a drummer. Yow! He can keep a beat so we'll see if it catches fire.

I saw "Zatoichi 17: Zatoichi Challenged".
Peter Welling's defined an auteur as a director who was able to work within established genres and stay within the strict conventions demanded while still managing to express his own voice. Zatoichi movies are almost a genre unto themselves. Formally they are
Click image: "Growing Love" by Frida Lind Chambara (sword fighting) and jidai-geki (period piece).
Within this definition it still astonishes me that Kenjiro Misumi is not recognized as one of the greatest directors in the world.
Zatoichi's movie's follow a path, a path that Misumi defined. I wonder if most of his brilliant story telling innovations have been lost as they have comprised the bedrock of Japanese chambara films in the sixties and seventies.
This entry in the Zatoichi saga is fascinating on its own, touching and startling, moving with an economy and sparseness that recalls zen. It stands on its own as well as laying the groundwork for Misumi's later works and themes.
Worth renting for sure.

The foster dog is starting to fit in to the pack better with each moment. Now we're off to the closed down dog park to see what there might be to see on this birthday day.

Posted by David at 11:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Fun Fair" by Unknown Last night my blood sugar count was 12.1, a little high. The insulin injection was no less painful and still left me with an annoying sort of tingling throughout my body. I slept pretty solid for 4 hours. I was tired from no sleep and a pretty busy day. On wakening my blood pressure was 128 over 78, within target and my blood sugars were 8.8, still too high.
This means that tonight I have to give my self 12 units. I'm
Click images for desktop size: "The Monkees" supposed to increase it by 1 unit a day until the readings are right. There was some confusion this morning as my friend thought it was 1 unit every other day. I called and checked and I was right! I'm not sure if that's a winning thing or not.
I also found out that I have to replace my blood meter pretty soon. That sucks. The meter is about 50 bucks, but the test strips run about a hundred. There's the little plastic strips that have to feed into the machine to collect the blood. Each strip is coded and they don't work on different machines . . . Seems that the machines start declining in accuracy after 1 year. Planned obsolescence?
I think there's something wrong with America in that you can only stay alive if you can afford it. I was lucky before. There was a town where the government thought all of its citizens were precious
Click images for desktop size: "Four Mounted Indians" by Charles Russell and there were doctors willing to donate their time. In Texas I could only afford my medication every other month or not at all.
When I was in grad school I drove a taxi cab at night. Held the job for 6 months or so. I had to give it up. Teaching and in school all day and working all night was kind of stupid. I'd fall asleep at odd times. When I was driving around LA about 4 am and suddenly it was 4:40 and I had no idea of where I was or how I'd gotten there. I'd been driving asleep for 40 minutes. Time to quit.
Driving a cab was unique. I made a lot of money. Meet a lot of people. Drag queen, drunks, hookers wanting to trade sex for the fare, gay guys telling me how they wanted a man like me, celebrities and sometimes people I knew. I thought they were all interesting except the wannabee pimps. I didn't like them much at all.
The cops used to flag me to pull over. While I was trying to figure what I'd done to attract the cop's attention they'd open the door and start piling in women, hookers. They'd throw a ten or a twenty dollar bill at me and tell me not to let the hookers out of the car and drive them west till I crossed the County Line. In LA the city cops run everything up to Crescent Heights and then its run by the Sheriff's Department.
The girls complained about how the cops had stolen all their money. The first time I figured it was just hooker talk. The fourth time I had to believe them. The girls always piled out of the cab at the first stop light. I had no intention of even trying to stop them. That would have felt to creepy, like kidnapping. I was a grad student driving a cab, not a cop.
Once a cop pulled me over and dumped a girl in the cab. She'd been stabbed. The cop told me to drive her to Queen of Angels. He didn't want to call an ambulance and fill in papers for street trash at the end of his shift.
She was bleeding but not terribly. We got to the hospital and there were a couple of orderlies and a
Click images for desktop size: "Panda" woman. They wouldn't let the woman out of the cab. She had no insurance, a credit card or $2,000 in cash. She was bleeding worse. I had to drive her to General Hospital (famous in bad TV series). Its the only charity hospital in LA.
Once I got flagged by a couple of guys in West Hollywood. One of the guys had been shot. Cedars Sinai was only two blocks away. I drove him there in less than a minute.
They went inside. I was in the back washing the blood off the seat when they came back. The one guy was still dragging his shot friend who was looking worse. Cedars wouldn't take his friend as a patient, not enough credit on his card and no insurance. The ambulance service wanted $125 in cash to take them to UCLA Med Center. The cab ride would be about 20 bucks.
(Even the Fire Department charges for ambulance service, but not in advance. They bill you. Same for Paramedic treatment. They used to not go crazy trying to collect, at least they didn't used to.)
So I know and I've seen that if you don't have enough money to live "they" are just as happy to see you die. And they can do it without mercy or fear. Killer world.

I mowed the lawn yesterday. It hurt. I got the mower started by grabbing that rope thing with my left hand, holding my arm stiff and then sort of falling backwards. Took three times but it ran.
I could only do about 40% of the yard. The vibrations and bucking the machine over the hills and valleys created too much pain.

Click images for desktop size: "Che" I was able to wear the iPod. The new cable is not as efficient as the old one, the silky wires one. It tangled a couple of times but not as badly as the Entymotics would tangle. I still don't have a solid feel for whether the sonic improvements and the probability that these cable won't need replacement are worth giving up the easy functionality of the silky ones. I still love the Ultimate Ears.
The foster dog is settling in. The gentle dog is very serious in hating him. The giant dog loves playing with him but hates him when he comes close to my friend. My puppy ignores him unless he plays one of the games he likes.
Situation normal.
My friend actually enjoyed her field trip. She got to hike through some untrammeled woods. She even got a cool walking stick from a dead tree. She bought it home for my puppy! Foster dog an my puppy played with it until the newcomer broke it in half. My puppy was indignant!

Posted by David at 11:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Fabrique de statues sur isle de Bali" by ebajart Before I went to bed my blood sugars were 8.1. My target is between 4 and 7, so it was high, just not terribly high. The nurse/diabetes expert said that most diabetics who start insulin after being on pills are looking at numbers around 25! She thought it was cool I was aware enough to catch it so soon. It spoke well of me following my dietary restrictions.
I did the insulin injection. Forget the propaganda about the needle in the belly not hurting. It hurt like a son of a gun! It burned,
Click image: "Lena Horn and Dean Martin" was sore afterwards and left a mark like a bug bite. It could have been worse I suppose. I'll probably get used to it, like I've gotten used to pricking my fingers two or three times a day.
Even though I've got a high tolerance for pain I've never been big on self inflicted pain. Way back in high school there was a fad amongst some of the more vapid football players. Two guys would sit opposite each other and rest their forearms against each other's. Then they'd drop a burning cigarette between their forearms. The first guy to flinch was called chicken.
I thought it was cool to watch but I thought it was pretty stupid too. I noticed that it was only me and the other surfers who never got involved in it. Some guys forearms were a huge mass of burn scars, many of them running about the full length of a cigarette. I don't know if the surfers had more sense or just figured that our sports banged us up enough. Maybe we wanted to show self respect, maybe we didn't have to prove anything to anybody, maybe we were chicken. Who knows? I don't like inflicting pain on myself.
Click images for desktop size: "Full Moon" by Luis Royo Plenty of people to do that for you, if your so inclined.
I didn't sleep well. It was predicted. Tossed and turned, tremors and head achey.
I had to take my blood readings immediately on wakening. Surprised me that I went to bed at 8.1, injected myself and woke up with an 11.8! I guess this proves that my liver is working fine at making all them sugars all night. It also means I have to increase the dosage by 1 unit this evening.
I took the kidney medicine this morning. Its side effect, which is viewed as positive is that it also lowers the blood pressure. I do note that when the tooth pain was finally gone my blood pressure dropped to well within my safety parameters. It can still afford to be lower.
I notice that the prescription bottle forbids driving. I can expect to stand up and fall down a couple of times.
My friend had to get out of bed 2 hours earlier than usual. Her job is taking the entire region on a field trip . . . to let them see what all their efforts are accomplishing. The field trip is making them all take a bus. Reminds me of grammar school.
Not only did she have to get up two hours earlier than usual to catch the bus but the first person on the bus is her old boss whom she doesn't quite get along with. The old boss is still a VP. The VP is showing a hunting video . . . This is a conservation group. Somehow, I don't think its an anti-hunting video.
I dislike hunting. I've tried it. Shooting something alive doesn't seem like much of a sport. I've never been able to do it especially after watching guys who weren't as good a shot (on the range) as I was, maim and harm animals who didn't fall.
Also hunting is pretty boring. Hunting with a bow and arrow is just as boring to me and even lacks the thrill of worrying about your companion shooting you in the face or the back on accident.
I would find it especially distressing to watch a video of this "sport". All blood sports seem vapid to me anyway. But watching them? Watching 200 yard drives in a TV golf match would be more exciting.
The foster dog is coming along. His surgery has healed up enough to let him roam with the pack. He's still annoyingly stressed but willing o make some strides.

Click images for desktop size: "The Tradition" by Unknown My friend and I disagree a bit on what his history was that bought him to this state in his life and his personality. Nothing serious. More importantly we agree on what his future will be. He's a good dog.
The giant dog loves to run and play with him outside. Inside he wants to kill the foster especially when the foster comes anywhere near my friend or me. Jealous guy. Shows the silliness of being jealous at all.
My puppy thinks that playing is great but not with the foster. She'll make light dalliances but if he doesn't respond in her prescribed fashion she ignores him. He's smart enough to ignore her right back.
But he won't ignore the gentle dog who seems to really hate him. Gentle dog is always growling at him when the foster dog breaks gentle dog's "circle of influence". (An old aikido term I really like).
This is all pretty normal. They'll shift soon enough as the foster calms down and begins to accept his place in the pack.
I worked last night with his aggressive play nature. Its not a good thing when a dog initiates play constantly. I felt heartless about stopping a dog from playing but it worked. He started to calm down and then spent the final two hours of the evening wrapped around my legs as I sat in the office.
Today was going to be the first lawn mowing day of the year. I have no idea if it is but it seems to me that it should be a day worth celebrating. When I tried to start the lawnmower I nearly killed the bad arm. The right one not the bad left one . . . It dropped me to one knee.
Part of my pain chart goes like this: 2=headache, 6=slamming your hand in a car door, 8=tearing cartilage in your knee.
At rest my right arm is a constant 2, when I try to work it out with proper exercises it often reaches 6. When I forget and make a quick movement like stretching or reaching for a jar on a high shelf it goes to 8 for about 3 minutes then takes about 10 minutes to calm down and get back to 2.
The good news (?) is that its almost definitely neuropathic. There's a chance that getting the blood sugars correct will reduce the pain somewhat. Makes the pain of the injections (a 1 which equals a pin prick or a paper cut) seem worthwhile.
I'll probably need another pill for the pain when it settles.
I ant to mow the lawn today, at least a part of it. I want to listen to the iPod. I've been using the new cable for the Ultimate Ears long enough to have an opinion. I love the UE's, not least because they were a present from my friend. One of the things I loved about them was the silk like wire. They've stopped making that thin and super flexible
Click images for desktop size: "Factory" by Clarence Carter stuff. he new cables are heavier and stiffer, though not as heavy by far as the wiring on the Entymotics. The UE's are still capable of being light enough and non-obtrusive enough to sometimes make the music from the iPod seem like the music that often plays in my head on its own. I rather like that.
One advantage of the heavier gauge, other than it shouldn't need replacing like the silky ones is a noticeable increase in midrange performance. At about 2,000 hertz its more detailed, coming closer to but not exceeding or meeting the clarity of the Entymotics.
I'm on a fence whether the sonic improvement makes up for the lightness of the silky wire. I hoped the lawn mowing would make that clearer.

Posted by David at 9:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "D'Amour" by Douleur I'm re-reading Raymond Chandler's and Robert Parker's "Poodle Springs". That's the book that was supposedly based on notes and pages Chandler was working on when he died. I've heard its anywhere from 5 pages of manuscript to 100.
Anyway, somebody hired Robert Parker to finish the book up.
When I first heard of this I rushed and got it right away. Got it in hard cover. I mean this is literature. Raymond Chandler. When you
Click images for desktop size: "Hope and Crosby"live in pop culture land as much as I do literature that you can actually enjoy, that isn't some arduous task that will some how make you into a mythic better person, you have to jump on it. Buying it in hard cover made it mean something, made it permanent and real.
I was pretty excited and really sort of sad that it more than a little bit sucked.
Robert Parker isn't anywhere near the writer Chandler was. Chandler was about the scene, the characters, and the poetry. Parker is about the plot, about the mystery and the crime.
Because of Chandler I've read a lot of mystery stuff. Don't care for most of it.
Part of the problem is that its hard to figure which is Chandler and what is Parker imitating Chandler. Like there's a scene where Marlowe helps out a gambling cheat who's also a bigamist. He helps him avoid getting arrested for murder because he saw the guy with his first wife and thought they looked sweet together. That's not totally inconsistent with Marlowe, but it's a bit too sentimental to be taken seriously. You wonder how much did Chandler intend to keep and how much was just taking a look at it.

Click images for desktop size: "Conquering the World" by Unknown At this stage of his life Chandler did all of his writing into a tape recorder then had it all transcribed. He would then ruthlessly edit the typewritten pages.
Its easy to imagine the meticulousness that he approached his editing. When he submitted his first short story he went through and typed it by himself. Because the cheap pulp magazines used justified margins Chandler went through and typed his manuscript with the same justified margins! This wasn't mousing over a button and clicking it, he counted letters and spaces and figured it all out.
So even though he typed things out there's no guarantee that he would have left it in the final story. We all know that Marlowe could get sappy, but he never acted sappy and he never saw killers as friends no matter how much he liked them before they became killers, no matter how sympathetic he might be.
In the book Marlowe is married to the multi-millionairess Linda Loring nee' Potter from "The Long Goodbye". Parker has them constantly squabbling about how Marlowe has to be his own man. Chandler never squabbled. You get the impression that Parker had so many great squabble lines that he decided he needed to use them all. Instead of condensing them all down to a bare element he scatters them throughout the story so they become tedious instead of whip smart. After the first squabble you know this marriage is doomed. Chandler would have let us see that love is always present but the people are just too wrong for each other. All the bickering just makes us dislike both of the people and feel relieved when they're apart.
I even wonder about the title. "Poodle Springs" as a nom de plume for Palm Springs is a little weird. Chandler didn't like dogs so perhaps he'd have kept it to show his contempt for the desert resort. But the same way he let Faun Lake stand in for Big Bear I don't think he'd have let his roman de clef predominate the story. It was the location, the air of the scene not the feelings for the place that overwhelmed.
Back in the life where I cared about such things I wrote an adaptation of Chandler's last original unproduced screenplay. I wrote it so I could make the movie with my friends, shoot it on 8mm stock with sound than transfer it to video for a sale to VHS. It was a good plan and I managed to strip the story down to free to use locations (borrowing from all my friends, their homes and their clubs, restaurants and offices). We even shot a few scenes before the contact I had at the video distributorship told me the cost the Chandler Estate agents wanted for my adaptation. The WGA said that my script contained about 35% of
Click images for desktop size: "Hannabai" by Kurkosawa Chandler's so I had to play ball. Forced me to abandon that little dream.
In rewriting his screenplay and bringing it into contemporary LA, a stripped down LA, I was inadvertently following Chandler's big advice for how to learn to write. He always preached that you had to read something you liked then sit down and rewrite it in your own words. Not copy it but try to recreate the impact of the scene or the characters.
The by product of this is that I learned more about how Chandler constructed his scenes, what appealed to me and also how different Chandler's and my view of the world actually is.
In understanding it I grew to appreciate the differences as much as the similarities. I was able to see more clearly his concepts of the world and of LA. It served me well in understanding people, and having compassion for those who are different and those who I think are just wrong.
I guess "Poodle Springs" as flawed and poor as it is still serves some purpose in that it forces me to remember the the LA that Chandler created so that I can recall more vividly the LA I lived in.

It rained all weekend. My friend had to work all weekend. Not the best of times. Done now.
My friend meets her new boss today, on the telephone. Conference call thing. Seems odd to me but at least they didn't ask her to make the 2 hour drive to meet him.
My arms have become ridiculous. I'm bored with the agony. Tomorrow, if I get my bike running today, I get my Doctorate in self Injectology. I'm holding out the wispy hope that insulin might go some way to relieving this grief. So bad that muscles around the pain have turned into walnuts. If I was of the paranoid bent I'd decided the knots are masticized tumors.
The foster dog is amazing. He has to live in his crate with the stupid cone head collar on but he remains joyous. Sometimes a little bit more than required. I've only ever had one foster dog who arrived calm. Charles. an old cocker> He was very much about his business and even more so about his pace. Otherwise every foster has arrived full of life, a complete ignorance of most things human, and an inbred compulsion to play with everything.
I think that's right.

Posted by David at 10:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "African Autumn" by Miss Yucki The foster dog is doing well. A bit of extra work and I still the body that resents extra work.
He has to stay in the crate. Which is hard on him and me. I was enjoying letting him sit quiet behind the gate to his room but he quickly discovered he could jump the gate with no trouble. He escaped out into the yard and ran around full speed play attacking everybody. After I had to catch him I checked his stitches. They were a bit fiery but not broken. The giant dog in particular was over joyed to have his play buddy back.
This morning foster dog started to worry the stitches with his mouth. I had to put the Elizabethan collar on him . . . he hates me. The other three are all impressed with the cone head looking dog. They all barked at him. I had him on lead while he did nothing but hop around excited and happy.
He's one of the least fearful happiest dogs I've ever seen. Regrettably
Click image: "Sigourney Weaver and Friend"this isn't the best attitude for recovering from surgery but I prefer it. Easier to calm him down than to cheer someone else up.
I'd be very surprised if we had this foster very long at all. I hope long enough to train him just a little. I think he'd like to learn stuff.

I noticed this morning that my thumbs have improved. Their pain is slight. It only took 3 months to get there.
My left elbow is responding to the exercises. This morning it hurt terribly but I was able to lift up the kettle for coffee without fear of dropping. As I work it the pain subsides.
My right shoulder is getting worse. It responds to working but not for any significant amount of time. Its peculiar too in that there seem to be too many ways to start the agony. I'm more familiar with this neuropathic pain only killing me if I do a couple of different moves or from moving too quickly and hard.
This shoulder has that but it also seems to go berserk from almost anything. The pain is so bad that
Click images for desktop size: "After Magritte's Lovers" by Unknown it hurts almost constantly, never really calming down. Just sitting and then shifting my position can set it off. Its waking me up several times a night.
It still responds to exercise. I use a therapy rubber band and move it under tension when I feel the first twinge of pain I hold it for a count of 20 then repeat until the twinges stop. Doing this has at least let me localize the pain to an area about 1 inch beneath the shoulder point on the arm.
I might have to see the doctor about it. I hate spending the money. I hate hurting all the time. Funny I never get used to it. I seem to be hurting all the time anyway.

This weekend will be spent getting ready for Tuesday. On Tuesday I have to get to the doc's office to get training on how to inject myself with insulin (and the doc won't look at the shoulder - requires a separate visit and a separate charge) , then I have to go about two miles further down the road to drop off the lantus and Avrio script. Get home and finalize my speech to the parents meeting that evening.
I'm going to spend the weekend getting the dreaded e-bike back in running order. All the walking would take about 3 hours. I figure I can e-bike it in a about an hour! Just have to spring maintenance it and be set to go terrorize.
Meeting the parents of the team members is not an odious task. I figure that all the other coaches will babel on and on. Amateur coaches seem to either talk to much or be taciturn. My experience is that 3 pointed minutes will get the points I want across and be memorable. (Its my same logic that forces me to find songs over 3 minutes tedious).
I'm going to need assistant coaches. Most of them will come from the parents. I can make a lot of my points by asking for coaches and lining out what I expect and demand from a coach: No berating the players; correct, instruct and encourage only. The Understanding that no coach ever won a game and no player ever lost one. The willingness to learn from me about turning the young people into athletes who play this sport. That's about it.
I've reached that age where my resume is impressive on its own.
Then today I'm playing burly housewife. The joint is dog heaven but a bit too messy and dirt for human habitation. And the foster dog needs to go out for a bit.

Posted by David at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Warriors" by Unknown The only fallout from putting my mobile phone through the washer and dryer seems to be the battery life. I have to recharge it every other day now. I'm impressed with Samsung.

The foster dog came home from the vet yesterday. When we picked him up he was groggy from the anesthesia. Had to lift him into the car sort of groggy.
When we got him home he urinated for about three minutes. Then defecated an astonishing amount, which pretty much confirmed my concerns about the vet's office not having a readily available exercise area.
All they did was neuter him. They didn't remove the double dew claws. It was relayed to us that the dew claws weren't particularly dangerous and removing them would cause him more grief than benefit.
I guess.
He got an odd reception from the other dogs. Giant dog who was adamant in his hostility before the vet was now seriously concerned for foster dog. Foster dog has to be segregated and kept still. Giant dog lay in an unusual position for him so he could look after foster dog through the grate.
Gentle dog, who previously had simply ignored the foster dog now expressed out right hostility. When my friend bought hi m in from a walk foster dog slipped his leash and made a bound for me, in a friendly way. Gentle dog stood up and unleashed a fierce snarl. I'd never heard gentle dog make a noise like that before.
I was pleased by his response. If he'd react that vocally to protect me, who he barely tolerates, I felt more secure about his ability to protect my friend, whom he adores, should the need ever arise.
Of course my puppy just continued to ignore him. She's consistent like that.
Foster dog is doing well.


Click images for desktop size: "Dog" by S4W Apparently I need to be clearer about the details of medical care in the USA. I lived a long time in the UK and had to use the National Health Service (NHS) which provides "free" medical care. Free via a payroll deduction similar but larger than the Medicare deduction taken in the US.
In Texas i was unemployed, broke, and starting a new job in 3 days when I got tonsillitis. I guessed that's what it was. I didn't know. There was no place to go to find out.
When my temperature neared 105 and the pain had kept me awake for two days I walked two miles plus to the nearest hospital emergency room. I waited in the waiting room for a couple hours then got sent to an examination room where I sat for a few more hours. A nurse came in looked at my throat and told me, "Wait here." That was all she said to me.
A bout an hour later some guy came in told me to drop my pants. He gave me shot and left.
I sat there for about another hour when a different nurse came in asked, "What are you doing here?" I croaked I didn't know. I was waiting to be told what to do. She closed the door and came back ten minutes later and told me I could go. I asked what was wrong with me. Finally she told me I had tonsillitis and the doctor had given me an antibiotic.
I left. Two days later I got a bill for about $1,800. Since I was already paying my Bells Palsy bill off from a different hospital at $25 bucks a week I was a little shook.
Now in England doctor's don't become wealthy only rich. You have to stop practicing medicine and become a consultant to get wealthy. In slow new seasons The Sun, England's biggest paper, will run an
Click images for desktop size: "Marilyn Monroe" expose of consultants making a million pounds a year by billing the NHS for 200 hours a week sixty one weeks a year. Everyone grumbles for a few minutes and then business continues as usual. In the UK you don't seriously mess with the wealthy.
Because of this there aren't quite enough doctors to go around. If you need one you have to register with a clinic. Your restricted to the clinics in your neighborhood and then restricted by whether the doctor has enough time to take you on as a patient. The doc's are limited by law as to how many they can take on to insure decent care.
I got stuck with a real croaker. An obscenely obese snob of a man who hated me for my accent. I hated him for hating me for my accent. It was a fine relationship.
I rarely saw him except for annual physicals. I never had to pay him anything. Then I started to feel a huge amount of fatigue and this creepy but not quite debilitating pain in my bones. It got to the point where it took a superhuman effort to get out of bed and dress. I just wanted to sit and stare. I
Click images for desktop size: "Tibal Girl" by Evgeney managed to never miss work. My friend (and boss) said I should see my doctor. I did. They ran some tests and the fat croaker told me I was just getting older. He gave me a script for some vitamins and told me to take paracetamol.
Filling the script cost me nothing too. I had to pay for the paracetamol because he didn't write me a script for it.
I didn't get better.
I had to take a business trip back to LA. I went and saw my old doctor. He wasn't in the same office anymore. He tagged up with one of those Medical Corporations. They ran the same tests. Word came back that I had leukemia,
We talked about treatments. They didn't tell me that it was close to a certainty that the chemo they wanted me to try would give me diabetes. He might have mentioned some damage to my kidneys. You'd have to be tougher than I am to pay real close attention to those sort of details.
When asked the only question I could think of was the same one that we all know about, "Will I lose my hair?"
He said, maybe not and that it almost always grows back. He never mentioned the fact that I'd have to look n the mirror everyday and see myself dying. It was during that time that for the first time in my life I wished I was only just getting older. I never imagined being old.
Its the stuff the doc's don't tell you that can kill you.
I guess they've stopped doing it. Chemo used to have support groups built into the treatment. Probably the insurance companies put a stop to them. Can't have people comparing notes about costs and they were expensive. I can see Blue Cross saying, We have to keep them alive. We don't have to make them happy," and canceling approval for the support groups. With the ay your going broke paying for your share of the chmo talking about it doesn't make sense to take on as an out of pocket expense.
I learned more from the other patients then I ever did from the shrink in charge of it anyway.
I've been through four chemo's. All the doctors made it a point that I had to do this NOW! The only
Click images for desktop size: "Unforgettable Autumn" by Unknown way to make a decision was from what they did or didn't tell you. Like I had six teeth pulled recently. It was most likely caused by the second trial (chemo word for an experimental cutting edge treatment that looks like it might work). Its a known side effect. They might not have even known that at the exact time. Even if they had they may or may not have told me about it. The doc's like to give you a 5,000 word pamphlet and let you discover this stuff for yourself but give your consent now.
The only doctor who treated me like a person and not a patient object was the volunteer doc, my last one. He could have been off getting rich but he felt the need to give back to his community. I still think of him as a friend first and a doc second. He explained a lot of my past and present situation to me. Th medical junk. He even took the time to try and get me to understand. And because he was free of charge he was a lot busier than the guys charging a hundred and fifty buck minimum for an office visit, but he still took the time.
I just think we all need a chance to understand what they're doing to us so we can see and make a better decision than we do when getting our car repaired.

Now I have to take care of my foster dog and the dynamic duo. Gentle dog got to go to work with my friend. He was ecstatic. Giant dog is so jealous. He's so put upon.

Posted by David at 11:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Untitled" by Steve Argyle Yesterday was filled with nothing else but dogs. Giant dog has decided that the foster dog is okay so long as he is playing with him and not with giant dog's toys.
Foster dog would bring toys to me to throw and drop them in my lap. I would reach for them and discover that giant dog, who was sitting next to me, had deftly removed them. He was holding them angrily between his paws. Foster dog just went and got new ones. At one stage giant dog was holding three toys between his paws. He glared at me in case I had any funny ideas.
Even my puppy got slightly less disdainful. She initiated play. Of course the play was her game and could only be played by her rules.
When giant dog would play bound at foster dog gentle dog would join in by attacking giant dog! And then foster dog had to go to the vet.
If ever a dog needed a trip to the vet . . . doesn't make it easier. He was a pain. There was an unfixed female beagle at the vet's office. He was uncontrollable. I took him outside. This is the rescue service's vet so we had no choice, but I soon saw that there was no exercise area. No grass at all except the little patch we were standing on, and that little patch was next to the highway. Cars went by too fast for me to be comfortable.
I wouldn't have left my dog there.
Foster dog is going to be fixed, shot up and the have his dew claws removed. He has the ugliest dew claws I've ever seen on a dog. I'm amazed that he hasn't hurt himself before this. They have to be removed. The healing process is long. Three weeks minimum. He'll have to be crated and carried around some.
Poor guy. He's still one of the happiest dogs I've ever seen. His life has been pretty miserable but he keeps playing and laughing. He keeps the world shaped in his image. I admire that. I hope he keeps his attitude after all this surgery.

Click images for desktop size: "The Last Supper" by Da Vinci This surgery will make his life better but I always wonder if it will be worth it if he loses that gift of changing the world to his own joyous view.
Its one of the reason I go on so much about my health issues.
When the doctor's tell you some bad news, you got this or that brand of cancer for example, and then detail the available cures they always seem to do it in a rush. When you ask for details they get brusque, especially about the side effects.
Something like, "You've got lympho ballistic leukemia. No big deal its curable."
In my case it took over seven years to cure. I've been cured, or at least in remission for nearly two years. I've often felt like giving up, even recently. But I don't regret still being alive. No matter how low I've fallen or how despair filled things have often seemed. When it comes to doctor's and scuzzy insurance companies sucking up my money (This policy cover 100% of all costs of normal and average acceptable fees as decided by us you will be responsible for any additional charges as decided by your service provider.
Its been worth it to me. I have my puppy and I have my friend. I like the world well enough, I stubborn enough to enjoy things like music and songs and stories.
Its been worth it to me but it might not be worth it to someone else. When the doctor says, "I won't lie to you," or "I'm not going to sugar coat it," its safe to assume that he's going to enjoy being brutal, he won't discuss things so you can have a clear idea of what's in front of you, and that he's been pretty much misleading you in things up till then.
Most people will be empathetic at first but they don't know how to act. Most of us don't much like confronting mortality. I sure don't. I
Click images for desktop size: "The Bride of Frankenstein" always planned to be immortal, spitting into microphones, running down fields while opponents tripped over their own feet trying to catch me with all the dogs who've ever lived with me cheering me on from the stands or the mosh pit.
When they find out your ill people shut it out of their front brain and work hard to drive it out of their back brain too. The light we see blinds us to all but itself.
They get dismissive or they avoid you. Or worse, they suck it up so every meeting becomes more a confrontation than a casual conversation. Your mind's not working great either. You can't ignore the moments of self pity where you won't like yourself very much either.
I was kind of lucky and people really couldn't notice. I'm pretty dour anyway. In almost any relationship there would come a point would someone would look at me a bit amazed and say, "I never realized it before, your really a pretty funny guy, like you tell a lot of jokes. I never knew you were joking!"
The only difference for me is that they stopped saying that.
I think, no, I know that people need to know what's in front of them. They don't need to know the
Click images for desktop size: "Taoist Immortals" by Fûgai Honko future but they have to know enough to make a decision they can live with, not live happily maybe but they have to see some joy out there at the end of it all.
Steve McQueen went through it all, even ended up in Mexico swallowing extract of peach pit (Laetrile) while two people I know killed themselves. One by driving head on into a fire truck that was enroute to a fire.
I miss them all but there's no choice but to respect their decisions even if you regret their choices.
That's all.

I've listened to the new Bob Dylan, "Together for Life" and the New Neil Young, "Fork in the Road".
I like Neil Young. Everybody has had to sit through my Neil Young story. (Maybe that should be Neil Young Story - keep it capitalized so it enters myth). Me and my buddies hid on a hill at Point Dume and watched them build Bob Dylan's house and got a rush when we saw Roger McQuinn, even ran down the hill to talk to him.
I still listen to their stuff, their old stuff.
Because I loved their old stuff so much I probably took it harder and more personally that I think this new tuff absolutely sucks. Too old, too used to a life of riches and wealth. Young at least seems to try and understand what's going on in the world. He even has feeling for it but its not there in the music.
Dylan has lived in the legend cocoon so long that he's forgotten what it means to be human, to be angry and sad. He writes about heartburn like it was heartbreak.
It makes me sad.
What cheered me was re-watching "Hustle and Flow" as I did the usual household chores. An old movie but still the best film ever about creating music. It works from points of extremity and hyperbole. Music does. What I keep finding touching is the fact that the people here are all dreaming and reaching for that dream and in struggling for it they regain the humanity that the world has sought to pull out of them. All the other movies that tried to tell this story forgot about the human part, they wasted my time telling me about being an inhuman legend.
Time to take the dogs for their walk.
Next week I have to meet the parents of the players of my team. I have to prepare a three minute speech about what to expect from me and what I want from them so that we can build their children into something the children can be proud of. And I have to do this while I'm laughing at the latest dog jokes. Then I have to get ready for poor foster dog to come back to his home.

Posted by David at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Click images for desktop size: "Sky 1" by Ausencia This weekend was as busy as I figured. My body is still in rebellion. Lots of pain from the usual suspects.
Sometimes I wish I got a little sympathy for the hurting. I'd probably resent that too. You can't win with me, or, as I prefer, I can't lose.

Saturday started too early. My friend and I arrived at the football equipment locker. We weren't the very first ones there.
My friend got to sit at a table and do all the paperwork, registering the new kids. A rough enough job that I was glad to avoid.

Click images for desktop size: "Snow Fun" by NFL Films I got stuck doing shoulder pads and fitting game jerseys. That devolved as some guys showed up late or not at all. Normal stuff. They got a couple of players to fit shoulder pads. I fit jerseys and double checked the shoulder pad fittings. I only had to swap out a half dozen sets of pads so the kids did alright.
Fitting game jerseys is a real pain. Game jerseys are ultra tight. Lot of reasons for this; being tight the help compress the shoulder pads increasing protection slightly and also enabling the player to hit with more impact. Tight jerseys make it easier for referee's to see holding. The jerseys are so tight that if a ref sees a player's jersey being pulled its obvious that this is far from incidental contact. It also helps protect the player from actually being held and unfairly impeded.
And tight jerseys look great.
My method of getting on a jersey is to put them on the pads first and then put the jerseys and pads on as a unit.
That's too pokey for this sort of deal. There was only one jersey of each size. The new jerseys would be ordered based on my measurements. That means I had to put the jersey on each kid and then
Click images for desktop size: "Sinister" by Yasushi Nirasawa take it off.
The quickest way was to roll the jersey up from the bottom, have the kid slip his arms through, up to the elbow. I soon learned to tell ALL the kids to put their arms through the arm holes and not the neck hole. With the jersey on the arms the kid has to raise his head and arms to get his head through. Then I reach around behind them and pull the jersey over the pads and down.
I nearly choked out half a dozen kids . . . I'd then straighten the jersey and check it. The real grief was when I'd eye balled the wrong size and had to re-fit the kid twice (once it required 3 fittings, and one took four).
I also learned to tell the kids to stand strong when I was pulling the jersey, I still dragged about a dozen of them to their knees.
Getting the jersey off is worse. I have the kids pull one of their arms free then I pull the jersey loose from the pads then have them pull the jersey from the side over their noggins. The jersey then just falls off the other arm.
I didn't keep track but I probably fitted close to 200 kids.
I was on my feet for 8 solid hours doing this. If I was getting paid $7.50 an hour I'd have quit after the first hour and demanded my check. For twenty an hour I'd not have ever gone back and I'd have complained bitterly about no coffee breaks. For free I didn't mind it. My friend felt the same way.
I tore four of my weak nails. My hands didn't start cramping badly until 6 hours into it. I think its interesting that my hands cramp up after 15 or 20 minutes playing guitar. So logic says that guitar playing is 24 times harder than pulling kit around on kids.
I liked meeting the kids and having my brief chats with them and the parents. I felt there was a slightly higher percentage of parents who were in this for the right reasons, slightly higher than usual. Not at the cost of the parents into it for the wrong reason. There seemed to be fewer indifferent ones though. That's a nice positive.
Another nice positive was that they provided pizza for lunch. Eat on your feet thing. I asked them if they could order from this one pizza joint because they have a gluten free pizza that my friend could have. I was originally told no, they had reasons for that, acceptable reasons. Then they ordered from the same pizza joint I asked for because my request was more important to them than the reasons. EXCEPT they forgot the reason was to get a gluten
Click images for desktop size: "Evening Chant" by Unknown free pizza for my friend. Amusing unless you're my friend who got no pizza!
There were 5 coaches I noted who scarfed down free pizza but never seemed to work with any kids . . . made the note to not let them near any of the kids on my team.
As soon as I'd sent the last kid out the door my friend and I hoped in the car to go pick up the foster dog.
He was being held by this really sweet couple. New dog is a big happy goof, totally bewildered by everything that's happened to him he embraces his confusion by laughing and playing until the scary parts go away.
Its pretty obvious that he lived for a while where he was loved but badly cared for. He's not neutered, his dew claws are dangerously long. He sort of knows a few commands. I think the family abandoned him. He was found wandering in the woods. Kept in a dog pound for a couple of months. Put on death's row, then thrown into a car and driven away, then another car, then a home for a few hours and finally ends up here.
He's smart, scared, confused and happy. The food they gave us for him is too rich after dog pound grub - diarrhea and vomiting. Because he's not neutered giant dog hates him, my puppy has made it clear he's not to invade her personal space and gentle dog endures him because gentle dog is gentle dog.
All he wants is to play and be told its all okay.
His trip continues tonight when he has to go to the vet to get neutered, dew claws removed and all other vetting. It irks me no end that the pound couldn't do even these simple things to make his life easier. The idea of its wasted money on a dog they had slated to die doesn't cut it. Would you deprive a cancer victim of pain killers?
He's going to make someone a fine dog. He'll make them laugh. He's learning simple commands but still has a hard time concentrating. He'll be fine.
Sunday was the eagerly anticipated dog walk.
It was a bust. Highly disappointing. All the more so because there's no one to blame. I'd really have liked someone to blame.

Click images for desktop size: "Surf" by Unknown The dog walk is normally at this gorgeous hotel grounds. Some guest must have seen that there was to be a dog walk and thrown a fit about loose dogs ruining her holiday.
This was last second. To the hotels credit they did not forbid use of their grounds. They have something like 300 acres. They just set up a different trail for the walk but THEY INSISTED ALL DOGS BE LEASHED!
In today's economy I can understand them not telling the rich guest to go to hell. The trail they set up was horrid. Dirty, hot. We had to walk through about a half mile of loose dirt and wood chips stepping in the tractor tread marks and depressions.
It would have been okay if the dogs were running loose and making friends. This was just a walk that we could have done better at any of a dozen places.

The dogs still enjoyed it.
My friend's assistant from work bought her dog along. He was great. I was sad that the great adventure we had promised her had devolved into something bland.
She and her dog came home with us and new dog and assistant dog played incredibly hard and rough. It almost made the shambolic day worthwhile, for me at least.
My friend and I were both fatigued. I think she was as glad I was there as I was glad she was there.
Things seem to work out better that way.

Posted by David at 10:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Love Like This" by Lavakillu This weekend suddenly got busy. In a nice way.
Saturday I have eight hours of kit fitting for kids 13 and under. I volunteered my friend to do registration (paperwork) for the kids. The foster puppy will arrive in the area on Saturday morning.
Lots of logistics, kennels to set up, food dishes to shift about. Then the decision on whether the new comer will be up to doing the dog walk on Sunday.
Not a bad time at all unless they stick me on 8 hours of fitting kids for helmets . . . shoulder pads are a lot easier and quicker. Pants and girdles are the easiest. I've got a feeling I'll be doing a lot of helmets . . .

My friend says I was pretty upset Monday about the doctor. She also thinks she understands the doc thinking I was going to slug him.
I didn't feel upset. A little bit down probably. I thought I was being as gentle with the doc as I could be.
Maybe I hide this kind of stuff from myself but not from her. Possible.
One thing that does upset me is Joe Biden appearing at the MPAA dinner. Biden went as the Vice President. He got a standing ovation for calling kids who download music and movies from the internet "thieves".
This is just another step towards Obama's campaign to criminalize kids sharing music.
Criminalizing downloading will save the RIAA and the MPAA serious money. They won't have to hire scum bag PI firms to hack innocent people's computers searching for "illegal" stuff. They'll have the FBI do it for them. I doubt that the FBI will even have to get a warrant to do this. In the UK they're already forcing the ISP's to keep all the logs of everything anyone does on the internet. So do we.
Click images for desktop size: "London Streets 1888" by TitusBoy Bush's lie was that it was to root out all those millions of terrorists. Nothing political about it they claim. Nobody would ever misuse all this data.
Obviously the FBI has done such a stellar job of removing crime that they have plenty of excess time to go trolling for 14 year olds scarfing down the top 40.
Then the rich jerks would save even more money. They wouldn't have to hire sleazy ambulance chaser lawyers, the US Attorney's office will prosecute the kids. Obama's hired the scummiest of them to train the rest in being even a purer distilled kind of scum. They'll get the kids jail time, probation time. Those services are all standing empty. The US Attorney has locked away all the rapists, child abusers etc and the prisons must be standing empty because everyone has been rehabilitated. Probation officers must be facing being laid off. (Of course America leads the world in having the largest percentage of its population in prison, we must be trying to beat our own record).
And then the RIAA and MPAA can then ask the judge to award them money for the serious damage these children have done to their business. At twenty bucks a track times a billion or some other wretched formula. Obama himself puts the damage at $350,000 a track. Rah!
When Obama gets his law passed criminalizing the kids I'll boycott every rich musician who doesn't sign off of the RIAA. Like rich guys like Tony Bennett who shockingly claims he isn't rich enough and wants to squeeze even more money out of people who just want to
Click images for desktop size: "La Liseuse" by Fragonard listen to music.
This really bugs me. If I buy a car and loan it to a friend for the weekend this logic would make me a criminal.
According to the RIAA and the MPAA when I lay down my twenty bucks I haven't bought anything. I don't own the CD or the DVD they do. I can't tape it or make a digital copy of it or let my friends hear it, play it at parties. Blockbuster can charge me to borrow it but I can't loan it for free. I don't know why. Neither do they. They just want all the money for the least amount of money.
They claim that me loaning my CD to a friend costs them thousands of dollars. They're losing money! Well, not losing money just making a bit less but they want it all: No Compromise. Sales aren't dropping becasue we're churning out cruddy product its becasue I think I own something I paid them for.
Silliness that they've spent billions during the last 60 years to turn into law. Unfairness. The rich bullying the poor.
I wish I'd voted for McCain. Not that he'd have been any better but I figure he'd been inept at getting
Click images for desktop size: "Los in a Bad World" by Unknown this stuff done. He wouldn't have the same deadly proficency that Obama has.
McCain would have hacked off our allies, like Canada, with the same stupidity and ignorance but he'd have been laughed at more than seen as real and threatening.
The comfort of incompetence.

There is something going on out there. I saw this video that I think everyone else in the world has already seen. Its just a little music thing. You can click here to see the YouTube version of this bunch of guys all over the world doing "Stand By Me".
Its exciting and unexpected. It reminds me of why I wanted to play music. Getting rich would have been nice but mainly I wanted to make a joyful noise. I wanted to make people dance. I wanted to be heard. It looks like these guys have the same idea. Its a great mammouth effort. I'm buying the CD becasue the RIAA has nothing to do with them and the music is sweet.

Posted by David at 10:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Grand Central Station" by Ian Foster Yesterday was bright and sunny. It reached 80.
Today it is 57 and pouring ice cold rain.

I took the dogs out for a shortish walk. Every person who was walking a dog got an advert from me telling them about the wonderful dog walk on Sunday. I started the pitch with the off the wall info that this place is so beautiful that they charge a hundred grand to have a wedding there!
I wonder if anyone of them will show. Their dogs would love it.
I walked the 5 miles to the doctor's office in 43 minutes. It would not have been as fast if I had the dogs with me but it would have been more memorable.
Click images for desktop size: "The Jolie Family"
It was hot and I was sweaty. From the reaction and movement of the other waiting patients they must have figured I had swine flu. Anyway it got me into an examination room in record time.
While I waited for the doc I had time to read an entire book! It was "Diabetes for Dummies". Interesting franchise. They seem determined to provide instruction for everything.
The doc came in in a rush. He was nervous about something. The man has no chin. Where his chin would have been was quivering. He asked a couple of unimportant although mildly pertinent questions, clearly to calm himself down. He was so nervous I tried to be relaxing.
He sucked it up and then just plunged into it. He pulled up my blood tests. He explained them so fast I couldn't follow anything he said. When I asked for clarification he didn't get much calmer.
The hardest part for him was that my diabetes was out of control. The pills (metformin) that sensitizes my body to insulin was still working fine but the pill that forces my pancreas to produce more insulin was not. My pancreas was producing almost no insulin. Time for me to go on the needle.
He flinched when he said it. As if he was afraid I was going to slug him. I still had the dark glasses
Click images for desktop size: "In Like Flint" by JW McGinnis on and I was certain that I had my normal blank poker face on so he must have been reacting to something deep inside himself. "I'm afraid you're going to have to start doing injections. It's only one a night. The needles are so thin they don't really hurt. Honest." He said it all in a rush then rared back in his chair pulling as far away from me as he could.
While pulled back he continued, "And there's albumen in your urine. The chemo damage to your kidneys is degenerating. You'll have to take some pills for that. Apropo, no, Avisio for them. To protect them more than anything."
I pulled my chair closer so I could see his computer screen more clearly.
"Boy, my bad cholesterol is super low, isn't it. Sixty really good isn't it?"
"Yes, but your good cholesterol is far too low. The proportion is bad. You seem awfully calm about all this?"
"I kind of knew this was coming. One day. Not happy about it but . . . It will it be Lantus? Is that the insulin injection?"
"Yes. Lantus. I'm putting you on 100 units a day. Increasing it by 10 units a day until the blood sugars get under control. The Lantus could cause further damage to your kidneys."
"I got my dialysis in my future?"
He fumbled before he said, "Most people don't need dialysis even after years of Lantus. You can't promise anything though."
All I could do was nod. He took my blood pressure while he went on to explain all the new procedures and things I'd have to fit into my new daily routine. And all the arcane cabalic rituals I'd have to undertake before I could fill my new prescriptions. One of them is I have to meet with the staff pharmacist. Not to fill the scripts but to have the rules explained to me and to show me how to inject myself. A pharmacist?
My blood pressure was 120 over 60. I was expecting it to be through the roof but it was the best its been in six weeks. I have not the slightest idea what that signifies. The doc ignored my question about it.
So after I start taking the injections I have to check my blood sugars 3 to 5 times a day. That means bleeding 3 to 5 times a day. Two weeks after I start I have to do another blood panel. Two weeks after that I have to go back in and see the doc.
The money for all this worries me the most.
I don't know how I feel about all this. Not happy. Not too upset. Just the grim inevitability of it all. Not even paranoid.

Click images for desktop size: "2009 USC Football" More pills, plus injections plus more blood work is a pretty worst case scenario but at least I ain't dead. I figure bad news here means I'm owed some good luck over there.
I walked home. A lot slower. I passed some youngish girls walking dogs. I figured that a sweaty man wearing shades and ear buds might not come across right so I didn't tell them about the dog walk on Sunday. I wanted to.
On the way home I stopped at the bakery to get some of the cheaper but superior bread and some Halvarti with Jalapeno cheese. The bakery was uncomfortably warm. There was an irate guy there holding a screaming baby. He was shouting at the little old ladies who work there. It seems he ordered some rolls that he was supposed to pick up on Sunday. He didn't. They sold them to someone else. He had it in his head that once he ordered them they belonged to him and they should have held on to them. He hadn't called and told them this. He hadn't paid them anything.
He kept getting louder. The baby kept getting louder and the little old ladies looked warm, uncomfortable and frightened.
I was pretty calm and suggested he go outside for a minute and let the baby cool down. He spun on me. I had about five inches on him and I wasn't holding a baby. He took my well meaning advice.
The little old lady thanked me. I said, "For what?"
She said, "I wish Mr Giant Dog had been here! Hem must be so comforting to you."
I explained that the dogs were at home. I never thought of Giant Dog as being comforting, at least not in the way she meant.
At home my friend and I watched another Doris Day movie, "It Happened to Jane". It wasn't very good. The situation was too real to be silly. Jack Lemmon had a good monologue and Kippy's dad Ernie Kovacs, was pretty much wasted. First totally duff Doris Day movie we've watched together. Next up will be "A Touch of Mink" with Day and Cary Grant. Rah!
My friend was beat after her day but she still offered up a lot of sympathy and support. I don't think she appreciated that I'd rather think about the dog walk and kitting up the kids on Saturday.
No problem is so big it can't be ignored.

Posted by David at 10:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Click images for desktop size: "Carp" by Unknown It was a pretty unexciting Sunday. But pleasant. I'd forgotten that time can sometimes just be a pleasant thing to just see pass. There aren't ever enough of these moments. I often forget to treasure them. Times where life is just content. It will be short lived and can't be sensibly ignored or taken for granted.
After the bad storms the clouds passed and the sun came out. We drove to the Indian Reservation, did some more light grocery shopping and went to Taco Bell. My friend loves their hard shell vegetarian tacos. I got a bean burrito and a "Beefy Cheesy Melt". Since everything else was vegetarian someone took it upon themselves to make my Melt Beefy-less. It was fine, They made up for the lack of meat by using extra rice. Rice was what I was craving anyway.
When we got back home it was nice enough to sit outside with the dogs. The dogs love me but my friend is "The Mom". Her being outside set them into joyous doggie paroxysms. Like me dogs seldom express joy by sitting still in quiet contentment.
My puppy played with her Kong and pressed it against my friends leg. My friend didn't understand that this meant you were supposed to try and steal it from my puppy. The giant dog bought out one of his squeaky toys and just drove us nuts with that. The gentle dog was the happiest and most active of the bunch. His way of expressing his joy is to bite me. Not painfully, he likes to grab hold of my wrist and just hang on. For whatever canine reason this puts him into a state approaching nirvana.
Clearly no side effects to Saturday's vet visit.
That evening we watched the Doris Day, Clark Gable movie "Teacher's Pet". I discovered that my
Click images for desktop size: "Midnight Worries" by Unknown friend is a budding Doris Day fan. She even knows facts about her! I'd never seen more than bits and pieces of the movie before and was surprised at just how good it was. Plenty of surprises and plenty of laughs with just a tinge of bathos, just enough to make you think you were seeing something more worthwhile than an entertainment.
Good movie.
We watched an episode of "Kung Fu". We'd fallen off the ritual. I hold that it was because the last few had been so dire. This one was good. For one thing it had the genius that is Keye Luke in it for even the briefest spell. Even a small amount of Keye Luke is enough to make anything taste better. The episode was "The Arrogant Dragon". Carradine was very effective even though his fighting skill still stinks, his acting ability was clicking at a high level. High enough to hide some bad plot holes and some uncomfortable sexual tension. And my old buddy Jimmy Hong got to play a rat!
What I liked most was the careful acknowledgment of Chinese history. It was surprising and welcome even if scant. Basically they acknowledged the birth of the Tongs as being a result of the Manchu's burning of the Shaolin Temple.
Today I've got my doctor's appointment. I called this morning and they've got my blood test results. I'm out of excuses. I have to get my home test results diary into a readable-by-others shape. This morning my blood pressure was 140 over 90. About ten points higher than is considered safe and about 20 points higher than sis safe for first thing in the morning.
I'm hoping that this can be addressed just through diet. I don't want
Click images for desktop size: "Stevie Wonder" to take any more pills. I want no more pills worse than I want to be able to stop restricting my diet any further. My fat intake is already restricted to 45 grams per day, no sugar, no pork etc. I guess coffee and salt are next on the list.
My blood sugars have been running on the high side of acceptable. Within the parameters. There's a chance I might have to deal with that. I get amazed that my diet has to be so restrictive. I know an older diabetic here, on insulin injections, and I had breakfast with him. He had bacon and eggs! BACON! Sometimes its hard to remember that my diet is restricted as much by the chemo's and their after effects as they are by the diabetes. As much as I don't want more pills I want injections even less. So it goes, Diet, More Pills, Injections in my order of preferences. And I really want none of them.
Next Saturday I have to spend 8 hours kitting out kids. I roped my friend in for 4 hours of registering the kids. Paperwork . . . I'm still pleased she'll be there for part of the day.

Click images for desktop size: "Hot Air Balloons" by Unknown Then on Sunday will be the spring dog walk!!
There is little on the appointment calendar that is as much fun as the dog walk, for me and the dogs. This will be the packs third one!

Even though the door is open to the pretty day my puppy has chosen to spend this time inside wrapped around my feet.
I love my puppy. Its nice that its reciprocated. Nicer to know she's not mad about the diet. I've cut all her food in half. She seems no hungrier than usual and she's always hungry.

Congrats to the Men of Troy. Eleven players taken in the NFL draft and 3 of them in the first round! Then Tony Dungy saying that a kid would be crazy not to attend USC becasue SOuthern California is the school that gives you the best chance to succeed!! YOW!

Posted by David at 10:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)