Almost done

One more day and I guess I can say as many before have said:  read the whole Bible in one year.

Revised English Bible.

I chose that Bible because I thought it was most beautifully written in the Queen's English.

However, after completing it, I would say "it's okay".

This check list was a sample that came in some "junk mail" to the KH which I retrieved (most mail sent to any KH is junk mail as all the important correspondence used to be sent directly to the Coordinator, though now it's all via website and e-mail).

I think I'll use it over again (green highlighting) for the new 2013 NWT we received.

No, Sir, I have to do that for you

Weird law in California.

At self-checkouts you can't buy your own alcoholic beverages.

Up until recently yeah sure you swipe that bottle of cheap wine and you'll get an APPROVAL NEEDED notification and the store person comes over and either checks your ID or in my case sees my face and grey hair and then types in their ID-checked-OK approval code.

No more.

They have to take the bottle out your hands and scan it themselves.  Then they take the cash out of your hands and stick it in the machine.  Unless you're using a card then they let you swipe it all by yourself.

I have seen this happen at Fresh and Easy (of course, they're all self-check) and also at Ralph's in the self-check aisle.

Musta been some kids gettin away with somethin?

Ferrer

Our group hosted the public speaker today.

It was good!

Phil's BBQ in Santee.  One of the sisters had a years-old gift card worth $70 which we utilized.

Bro. Ferrer told an experience (not necessarily him that this happened to) about his favorite scripture which is Malachi 3:10.  That's the one where Jehovah invited the Israelites to bring in the 10th and see if he wouldn't pour out a blessing upon them until there was no more want.

A brother with a baby had only $5.

He figured he could go put $5 in the gas tank and go in field service.  Or go buy infant formula for his baby.

Although he loved his baby, he also knew Jehovah's personality and said "Jehovah will provide".

He put the $5 in the gas tank and went in the ministry.

One of the householders after a conversation said to him,

"Oh, by the way, do you have anyone in your church with babies?"

Our brother said "yes..."

"I have a couple boxes of infant formula which my daughter doesn't need any more, her baby is too old now.  Can you take them and give them to someone who can use them?"

He gratefully accepted the boxes.

Bless You Joel

For months now I've awakened each and every morning with my left ear completely deaf.

If my right ear is deep down in the pillow then I don't hear even the loudest of alarms or music.

So Wendy has had to jab me to get me to react.

Then usually after a few minutes, whatever congestion in my ear (wax?) will "drain" (?) and then I can hear again more or less in that ear.

This has gone on for months!  On days when it doesn't clear that well and I'm aware of hearing loss throughout the day I started to get more worried.

Should I go to the doctor?  The doctor will prescribe anti-biotics.  Is that a good thing? If it saves my ear from deafness it is.

Then Joel's father died.  He wasn't in the ministry that morning.  We heard his wife was having a garage sale.  So after our morning we stopped by at the sale.

This very active spiritual couple were grieving in their own way.  They couldn't really be around people right now.  The two that give so much and so thoroughly just needed to be left alone.

Kelley let us know that Joel was over at the gym they are starting up in Lemon Grove.  She said he'd appreciate it we stopped by, just the two of us.  She text' him that we were coming.

We drove over.

He showed us the Cross-Fit style gym.  We tossed a medicine ball.  (I thought medicine balls only existed in the cartoons like the Flintstones!)  He demonstrated an assisted squat using a large rubber band that you sort of "sit into".

Then we went to Sahara to get some food.

We talked about his departed Dad, the upcoming funeral, the old church Joel left, and family.

Toward the end of the meal I realized that this was my opportunity.

"Hey Joel, since I got you, I need some free health advice..."

After my explanation, he said his advice:

"Super Echinacea by Herb Pharm.  Rub it up in your gums on that side of your mouth.  It will go up into the ear area.  Man, it will numb you pretty good!"

He didn't tell me where to go find it, but we later went to his store Windmill Farms anyway.

Right he was... it was pretty tingly and numbing on the gums.

Well, about a week later...

This morning...

I woke up with a clear ear!  For the first time in months.

Bless you Joel!

And may Jehovah our God be blessed for the gift of stereophonic hearing.  That is taken for granted so much.  However, this morning I tossed another old cassette in the tape player as part of my project to archive old sounds and songs and voices to MP3.

For a moment I tested my ears by pulling the monitoring headphones away from one and then another.

How amazing that with one ear phone pressed against your head the sound is at the side.  But with both... the sound is in your head.

Trippy, man !!!!

Undercover Brother

Kind of a weird thing yesterday:

Almost home, I sat in my truck in the turn lane on Jamacha Road, waiting to turn left onto Fury Lane.

Suddenly I heard a very loud siren sound.  Of course I looked up but I didn't see any obvious police cars.

Then there he was...a plain-looking, sort of light gold colored, normal looking car was turning from Fury Lane onto Jamacha Road head, and he had small flashing lights in his rear window, bright red and blue.  This car may have been like a Dodge Charger station wagon, if they make such a vehicle.

As my light turned green, I saw this vehicle pull off to the side, with another vehicle in front. Quickly the driver of the "undercover vehicle" got out.

This is what was weird:  just like his car, the man (officer?) was pretty casual-looking, wearing just dark pants and a light slate blue polo shirt.  His hair was dark and curly.  As he walked up to the car her'd just pulled over, I was making my turn.

Fascinating!

So I drove up into the parking lot and came to a vantage point where I could watch.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get over quickly enough to get into the lot in a timely manner.  So by the time I got in and drove around to a place right across the street from the scene, the car in front had departed, and the "man" had gotten back into his secret gold flashing-light Charger station-wagon.

A man was already here in the parking lot, standing, watching.  He wore a red shirt.  His wife or girlfriend sat waiting in their vehicle.  I later gathered that like me they'd seen and heard the "pull over" and came in here to watch.

"Wow!" I said.  "What's going on?"

"I have no idea," replied the man, "except that it's illegal."

He proceeded to explain that in the State of California it is against the law for someone to pull you over unless you are in uniform. Which this guy was definitely not.  He went on:

"I could put lights like that in my car.  I could flash a plastic badge.  You don't know who that guy is."

He mentioned how he'd quickly let the guy go.

"Man, I'm sorry I missed it!" I exclaimed.  Clutching my camera I continued "I would have made a movie of it."

"Yeah, and I would give it to the Sheriff's Department," he said.  "That is completely illegal."

Then he turned toward me, and to prove his point, he said,

"Yeah, I mean, you take that jacket off, and I don't know who you are.  Really, you take that jacket off and I'd look at you..."  (He looked at my shirt and trousers)  "...I'd figure you worked for the Forest Service.  But you can't pull someone over like that if you're not in uniform".

Not sure why he used me as an example but it did make me realize that my dark green Dickie trousers do make me look like I work for the Forest Service.  Not that I consider that a bad thing.

"Wow, pretty unusual!" I repeated.

"Yeah... all I know is that it was a black guy" he offered.

Anyway... I departed.  He got in his truck with his wife and departed.

That was it.

Later I thought more about it and based upon three things (1) the LOUD siren, (2) the QUICK pull-over, and (3) the QUICK "letting him go" that this may be what happened:

It was a probably a Federal Marshall who got cut off by someone and lost his temper and decided to flex his muscle so that he could tell the guy off.

I had a friend whose mother was a Federal Marshall.  Not the most normal of childhoods to have a Mom who is a Marshall, but it made for some interesting stories and helped me realize that "they are among us" and they don't advertise themselves.

Obadiah and Edom

Reading the book of Obadiah in the Living Bible including the introduction to the book.

The introduction is really informative:

Also.. I thought the line “…drink and stagger back and disappear from history” is rather chilling.

The imagery of this is good… and the truth of it as well, since the Edomites are long gone.

I always think of Indiana Jones and the Search for the Holy Grail when I think of the Edomites, because the carved stone city of Petra was featured in the movie, and it is in the territory of Edom. Pretty sure that the carved “buildings” in Petra (such as “the bank”) were done much later than the Biblical Edomites, though.

Soap

Soap is an amazing substance.

It can help clean up oily dirt.  For instance, any dirt we get on our hands is oily because of the natural oils from our hands.

So I'm awestruck that soap has a molecule that attracts oil on one end, and attracts water on the other end.  Oil and water don't mix usually, but introduce oil as a mediator, and the two can be bonded.

Bad deal for the oily stuff since it means it's going to be taken away wherever the water goes to.

Now the thing that really amazes me is that soap comes from oil!

I dont' really understand this "saponification" process, but I would like to.  When I have time I will look it up.

Science helps us appreciate the wonders of Jehovah's creation even more fully.

Stonewall Peak in the Cuyamacas

Hike Stonewall Peak in the Cuyamacas today.

There are lots of dead trees there.

There is beauty in death sometimes.

Electronics Review: ProSource tablet

No.

Youtube Transcript

Just noticed a feature on YouTube that I've never seen before:

Youtube Transcript

The original video is here:

John Phillips

Listening to a very old cassette tape play as I record it to an MP3 file.

It's my best friend from Junior High School.

John Phillips and I ended up having each and every class together one of those years.

He was one of the other JWs there at Strobridge (Tom Pearson was the other one).

This tape I'm listening to is funny.  It was a tape letter he made for me.  Humor and gags.  His sister Kim plays quite a part in it to.  He has also called out the names Matthew and Bethany, two more siblings.

I've been meaning to try and track John down.  See how he's doing.  See if he's still alive.  I hope so.  He was an amazing guy who survived so many things.  Such as nearly being killed in a hot water scalding that put him in the hospital with major life threatening burns.

John if you're reading this... get in touch with me.

Steve (you would know me as Mark, however) 619-663-9285

“Good aftermidnight, Sir!”

That’s a typical greeting in Transylvania, where the townsfolk usually rise after sunset and spend their nights in their usual activities, such as shopping, working, playing, etc.

They sleep during the daylight hours.

Captain Jack and his Sparrow

A co-worker's dog.

She sent me a color photograph and I cropped it, sepia-toned it, and then pasted the "sparrow" (parrot) back in again.

This was done using the tools of Microsoft Paint (to crop and cut and paste) and Microsoft Word (to convert to Sepia)

Tinted Mirror

It’s like my mirror is tinted.

It’s so dark that the details cannot be seen.

Glancing at myself in the mirror, I am blind to the ugliness.  The dirty face.  The unhealthy condition.

So off I waltz, whistling a tune, obliviously stepping on snails and daisies and seashells and porcelain figurines.

Geologists!

Bullseye Dawdle is a colorful figure, an eccentric geologist working primary in the American Southwest.

Some time ago he observed that one of his favorite rivers was drying up.  To this day it remains but a trickle.

Privately he voiced his theory that the source of the river remained as dynamic and snowpacked (icy fire as he referred to it) and thus it must still be producing flow, though obviously in a different, hidden, unknown river.

Two days ago Bullseye proudly announced to himself that he had finally found it.  The secret river.

Ecstatic at first, he has now become sullen and fearful of drowning in the very river that he has just discovered.

Geologists… little boys dream of becoming one.  Their lives can be exciting and glamorous, yet at the same time, full of fear and anxiety.

Flywheel

We got a new car (used car, but new to us) and I noticed that it doesn’t want to stop very easily when the gas pedal is lifted.

In other words, instead of immediately slowing like our older car, this car just keeps on going.

This makes me wonder if perhaps it has a flywheel inside the engine somewhere.  

Fly wheel.

What is a fly wheel?  I think I know… or used to know… but I realize I have no idea if such a thing still even exists in a modern automobile.

When I was a boy my Mom told me about a “fly wheel” and I thought it was really really really really interesting…  as if it’s energy stored inside a big heavy wheel.  What’s the word for this energy?  It’s the kind of energy you store when you stretch a rubber band…   ummm…. “kinetic” energy?

Well, time to stop wondering and start learning:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flywheel

Excerpt:

“A flywheel is a rotating mechanical device that is used to store rotational energy. Flywheels have a significant moment of inertia and thus resist changes in rotational speed. The amount of energy stored in a flywheel is proportional to the square of its rotational speed. Energy is transferred to a flywheel by applying torque to it, thereby increasing its rotational speed, and hence its stored energy. Conversely, a flywheel releases stored energy by applying torque to a mechanical load, thereby decreasing its rotational speed.”

Okay, that makes sense!

Now this one is a bit over my head:

“The phenomenon of precession has to be considered when using flywheels in vehicles. A rotating flywheel responds to any momentum that tends to change the direction of its axis of rotation by a resulting precession rotation. A vehicle with a vertical-axis flywheel would experience a lateral momentum when passing the top of a hill or the bottom of a valley (roll momentum in response to a pitch change). Two counter-rotating flywheels may be needed to eliminate this effect. This effect is leveraged in reaction wheels, a type of flywheel employed in satellites in which the flywheel is used to orient the satellite's instruments without thruster rockets.”

One day I think I’ll need to reserve an hour or two to just peruse this article and try to soak it in.

Trouble

Got in a heap of trouble at work today.  We'll see.

I'm on probation for arriving late.  The deal is if I'm late one more time, I lose my sweet early schedule.

Today I was 10 minutes late.

Hopefully my boss, who was delayed over an hour herself for the same reason, will make an exception.

?

A suicide jumper closed the 163 freeway and the effect dominoed all throughout the San Diego freeways.

$317.00 for a physical

Today I saw the bill for my physical the other day.

$317.00 !!!

That seems so high.  Probably just me living in the past and thinking it should have been $70.00 or so.

Hopefully this sweet insurance we have will pay for all of it.  Before the sweet insurance ends on December 31st.

Actually, if I had to do the terrible things that the Doctor did to me (probing, looking, etc) I would have charged $5000 for that visit.

Bless the doctors.

Sad Little Boy Who Lost His Dollar

Right now I feel like a sad little boy who has lost his dollar.

The reasons are less than complex:

1. I lost my dollar
2. I feel sad
3. I have behaved with the experience and wisdom of a little boy

The DVD set of Hawaii 5-0 (classic series), Season One, was due yesterday at the library and I now owe a late fee of $1.00, according to www.sdcl.org.

Wendy was about to take a nap, so I said I'd go walk over and return it.  Since I had no cash in my wallet, I asked her for a dollar.  She let me take one out of her purse.  (I guess that's another, fourth reason why I feel like a "little boy"... taking money out of a woman's purse at her direction).

For some reason I thought it best to just keep the dollar held against the outside of the DVD pack. 

Then when I came upon the location of a little bee hive that I'd once blogged about (not long ago) I decided to take a photograph.

It appears that by now the Bee Hive has been ravaged, perhaps by a wild animal

  

(There were hardly any bees left)

Walking on I saw some autumn trees on fall fire.  Took a picture of their bright red leaves.

Then I realized that I'd been transferring the DVD pack from my hand to under my arm as I took photos. 

The dollar was gone.

I felt pretty bad about it.  It was my only dollar!  It was to pay the man at the library and clear my record!  Wendy gave it to me!

Walking back about 5 minutes to the bee hive I kept a close eye out for my dollar.  It was nowhere to be seen.  Other's were walking about, too.  A couple of young guys walked past the bee hive.  A couple walking their two dogs came by.  A man with a backpack who said to me "we meet again!" (?).

No dollar.

This qualifies as the most fluffiest, trivial, worthless tripe on the face of the planet when it comes to stuff to blog about.

Yet it makes me feel better to express it.

Writing is a creative outlet.  Hey!  Did I just coin that?  I don't think I've ever heard---   no, cancel that.  "Writing is a creative outlet" is not a new phrase.  It's been used before.

This does illustrate something about me (and I hope all humans) and that is it can just take one little thing to make you sad.

You justify it and try to cheer yourself up, but it's still a loss, and it will take time to get over it.  Plus now I'll be leaving the library with money still owed.

Then again, it can be just a small thing that "makes everything okay again", that makes you forget your troubles.  A cute puppy to comfort you over the loss of your old dog.  A lollipop to make you forget about your skinned knee.

What a self-serving, self-centered post this has been.

Future Steve:  even at your age now (11/27/2013) you really hadn't fully matured.

DVD pack but no dollar

Broccoli

Broccoli is good.

Broccoli is tasty.

Broccoli, broccoli, broccoli.

A big bowl of broccoli.

Checkup

Going to the Doctor's office tomorrow!

Haven't been to the doctors for years and years as long as I can remember.

I'm "one of those".  No regular visits to the Doctor since my view on health is more holistic-oriented rather than medical-community and drug-oriented.

Prevent vs Fix.

However, now that I'm sliding down the other side of the mountain, it's probably a good idea to see what's going on.

Hope they give me a free sucker if I'm good and don't fuss when they draw blood.

They'd better!

Indestructible

Feelings are like energy.

They cannot be destroyed.

They at times must be expressed to prevent an explosion.

Some messages must be sent, although they are not intended to be received, but rather dissipated into outer space where they will travel on forever.

sweet & sour

It is bittersweet.

It's grief & relief.

...or relief.  And grief.

Why is that button flashing?

When you see the Office Button on window flashing on and off Amber… what does it mean?

It simply means “here I am!  Notice me?  I’m right here!”

Seriously… it flashes when it hasn’t been clicked for a long time.   Many people think it’s just decoration or design and don’t realize it’s a functioning button.

Cyrus Cylinder

A friend is organizing a day trip with a fairly large group (I guess) to see the Cyrus Cylinder.

Wendy and I were going to go, but the day got changed, and so we're definitely not going on the new day, due to employment situation.  We won't be seeing it that day.  Perhaps then maybe one day later on in the future, I guess.

But we won't be part of that excursion.

the b

In today's WT lesson there were three different (a)+(b) question combinations.

Evidently in each case, a person answering the (a) question went ahead and answered the (b) without waiting for it to be asked.

Because by the 3rd set, the conductor actually read the (b) question first and then read the (a) question.

Sure enough, the second commenter, as if they didn't hear or understand the conductor, answered the (b) question before it had been asked again.

The conductor was visibly and obviously annoyed... it was an unfortunate reaction on his part.

Yet it was a record day... commentors answering the (b) before it was asked each and every time in the lesson.

What amazes me...

...is how bird heads are like little gyroscopes.

If you hold a bird in your finger or hand and shake it gently from side to side, or up and down, backwards and forward, the bird's head will remain stationary in space.

Dream

Generally I don’t appreciate it when people tell me all about their dreams.

Sure, it was exciting for them, but come on, it was just a dream, and unless you show me an actual brain-video of it, I’m probably not that interested.

There is an exception, of course.  If it’s someone I truly care about, I want to hear all about their dream.  But most people… it’s a negatory.

So this is why I hesitate to share my dreams because…  the very same reason.  Unless you dreamed it yourself, it’s pretty boring.

REALITY:  Walking into a shopping center from the back side I saw some bees near the ground.  So I backed up to take a closer look… it was one of those rectangular green plastic utility covers, the kind that would cover irrigation controls.  The cover was half off, so half the utility box was open.  Bees had taken up residence and were coming and going, and I could clearly see honeycombs inside.

DREAM:  That night (or more accurately, very early the next morning, since you don’t remember dreams unless you are awakened during them) I dreamed that a light grey cat had wandered into a kitchen cupboard.  There were bees in it!  I was horrified that the cat would soon be stung.  Suddenly I looked and the cat had been duplicated… there were now six identical grey cats sitting calmly on various shelves among the bees.  Then there was just one cat again, and the bees came together and formed a big giant thumblike platform and lifted the cat up off a shelf and gently set him down on the floor.

See what I mean about other people’s dreams being boring!

I hate smokers!

Yes, I definitely hate smokers.

For years, I didn't hate them.  Rather I felt sorry for them.

To me they were "skinned and thrown about" by the tobacco companies.

That is still true, but my patience has ended.

They are all selfish morons!

Two things happened on Monday that precipitated this attitude change.

(1) Sitting at the far northern end of the width of a Starbucks outdoor patio, some confused ass was beyond the other far southern end, even further, standing in the middle of the next store front, smoking his stupid cigarette.  Idiot smokers are under the delusion that their smoke rises to heaven where it is magically dissipated and simply "disappears".  Well, I can testify that is wrong.  Cigarette smoke travels sideways... at about the level of seated person's nose and eyes.  Moron.

(2) Picking up a friend, I spent a few minutes with the car door open while I straightened up the interior.  Some (pick your own bitter pejorative and insert here) was several yards away, his foul donkey smoke filling my nostrils, lungs, and the interior of my car.  When I picked up my friend:  "Why does it smell like smoke in here?"

To all the "nice" people I know who smoke, and up until now, I felt compassion for, here's a personal message just for you:

Stop smoking, you idiot!   You know you were duped, you know you're addicted, but above all, you know that people who don't smoke are smart and you are a moron for not quitting.

Tried but failed to quit?  Try again!  It can take up to 7 times to successfully quit.  Perhaps more!

Just quit.

Until then... I hate you.

Shut Up!

For a cat lover, this may sound strange:

I hate cats!

Well, not true, really.

But I am SICK of cleaning the stupid scratch box every day.  I've never minded scooping poop.  But this is getting old.  Every day?  Come on guys!  Really?  Every day?

It's even worse when I try to get the scoop "under" but it cuts right through like a knife.  Ewwww...

Plus yesterday DJ was ticking me off with his LOUD demanding meows from the kitchen.  Yes, I guess you want more food, huh?  You GOT PLENTY of food!

Then his loud demanding yowl by the glass sliding door.  Yes, we KNOW you want out, but you're not going out.  That's a privilege reserved for when your master is home on the weekends.

We're the ultimate selfish couple... no kids.. and no cats.  We use those of others to satisfy our brat & cat needs.

Paddling ~ Upstream or Down?

In Hazard Perry Forest National Park one of the trails leads up to a fire lookout.

One summer I hiked up to it, not expecting anything other than to rest a while and turn around to head back down again.

“Did you want to fill up your canteen?” came a shout from the deck high above me.  The ranger was looking down and waving.

I accepted his invitation, and followed his directions to ascend the stairs up to the entryway.

What a view from up there!  Forest green carpeted the land for miles around.  Granite rocky hills stuck up here and there.  Off to the east I could see the mist from the falls, and the wide blue river leading to them snaked in and out of sight behind the trees and hills.

The ranger explained that while his main purpose was to keep an eye on fires (he even pointed out three that were burning, though nothing to be alarmed about) he also kept an eye on “idiots” as he called them.

He positioned the high-powered binoculars mounted in a post in the center, then motioned me to look.

I could see a man in a blue flannel shirt and green hunting cap paddling a canoe upstream.  He was working pretty hard at it, and it occurred to me that the dangerous falls were just a few miles behind him.

“This guy is okay by me,” said the Ranger.  “He’s doing the right thing.  However, sometimes I see him just relaxing with his oars up in the boat, enjoying the river as he drifts downstream.  That’s not recommended, but we don’t say anything.”

At this point I agreed, since I knew those falls very well from hearing about the many accidents and deaths that had occurred there.

“The worst, though,” continued the ranger, “is when he turns and actually paddles downstream, toward the falls”.

“Wow!  What then?” I asked.

I write him a letter and warn him that he needs to turn around and paddle upstream again.

“A letter?”

“Yes, a well-written, serious yet tactful letter”.

“Does that work?”

“Well, he’s not gone over yet!”

Higher

We're all trying to do the right thing.

Sometimes we hold out our hand and help our friend step up higher.

Other times when we slide back a few steps we pull our friend with us.

The intent is always to move heavenward.

brb

brb!

No Comment

"He remained silent on the subject.

It was, after all, what started everything."

into weather

To shut my mouth and then to walk for miles and miles and miles

Tears of a Dog

Seeing a video on Youtube about a man who sang a lullaby to a box of puppies and put them all to sleep reminded me... 18 years ago yesterday I was strolling along the Historic Canals of Venice Beach, California, and saw an extraordinary sight. Dusk was falling, the sun had set, but in the still waters I could see the reflection of bright red round sun. That was oddly beautiful and mysterious. Laughter echoed in the canal-laced neighborhood from somewhere around the corner. There was music. Talking... no it was singing. Just short bits of song. Then a group of pedestrians appeared, led by a woman in a cotton floral dress holding and strumming the strings of great acoustic guitar. Her followers applauded her recent effort and she laughed. As they came toward me, their attention was caught by a chained dog in one of the yards. They stopped and uttered "awwwws" of pity at the trapped animal, not only imprisoned behind his morning-glory flower embroidered wire fence, but also held by a snug red leather collar and an unusual metal chain. The chain was strange... it was a braid of three smaller chains, leading from his collar to a ringed metal stake securely pounded into the grass in the center of the area. The woman began another song, this time in French, and faced the dog as if to serenade it. Although I could not understand the words, her companions seemed to, and now I was convinced they were either French tourists on holiday, or perhaps Italians who just knew French. This is because some of them seemed to sing along softly. The dog... he looked up as he lay there, and when she had begun her song he stood up, his tail wagging excitedly. Animals don't really "get" music, so he obviously was just enjoying the attention. He was a small dog, black, a puppy at first glance, but then I could see grey in his muzzle so I realized he was an adult. Where was I this whole time? Well, I had slowly ambled down the cement walk toward the group and stood at the corner of the yard, leaning against the green leaves entwined in the wire fence. Here's where I could see both the singer, her group and the dog clearly. A couple of people looked at me and smiled and I smiled back... this was really cool... live music at dusk in Venice Beach... and in the quiet canal neighorhood, no less! The dog seemed to lose interest, and stretched, then lay back down. He rolled onto his side after a bit, and by the twitching of his tail I knew that he was dreaming. Happy dreams I would venture to guess... he nearly rolled onto his back at one point... so full of peace. The song ended... (and it may have been Italian but I think it was in French)... and the dog rolled back onto his belly, awake, but did not stand. His little doggy eyes looked suddenly watery. An allergy from night blossoms, perhaps? The sky was getting dark and the air was becoming chill. It looked like a tear dripped from the wide eye that was closest to me. This couldn't be true, but it did look like he was weeping. The group uttered a few more "awws" (I think they thought the same thing, that he looked like he was shedding tears) but soon laughed and moved on. I stood flat against the fence to let them all pass along the narrow walkway. There was a smell of perfume, probably more than one kind that hit me. Then they were gone. I didn't follow although if it hadn't been so late, or if I'd been invited, I might have considered it. The full moon had risen... and I could see it right where I'd seen that image of the red sun in the still water.

There Go I

Walking out to the little park for my 11:00am break to do my Bible reading in the Living Bible (for all my bad habits... this is the one good habit I have right now).

I was blocked by a big pickup with camper shell backing out of the parking structure entry.

The driver, "older" guy, shaved head with grey stubble, asked if I knew where "Arrow Tech" was located.

My tablet was just on the threshold of our company wifi peaking out of tall building behind me, so I tried to look it up for him.

It was Aerotec... and seemed to be some sort of a staffing company.

But no location other than one in Maryland could be found.

He talked on as he sat there in his idling truck.

"They helped me out a few years ago, and I thought they were over here somewhere".

The man also spoke of how he was tired of all these online "opportunites" and "come ons" that were just out to take his money.

So although I could not point him to his Aerotec, I did offer what I think is golden, platinum even advise:

"Have you gone to the county career center yet?"

I spoke more about the advantages to be found there, but I don't know if it sunk in.  Hopefully he'll try there.

Good contacts, good information, free training, other good stuff.

The career center!

The Weather on Mars

Have I blogged about this before?

Perhaps so... or perhaps I only just intended to.

This will be quick... with little fact-checking and research, relying on memory.

I would LOVE to visit Mars!

The weather?  Well, it's a cold, small, desert planet, with amazing features like a mountain that dwarfs any on Earth, and some pretty red desert landscape.

Would I enjoy a trip to Mars?

No way!

Why not?

Well, it would take 2.5 years to get there.  It has something to do with timing and the orbit of the planet Mars in comparison with the orbit of the planet Earth.

2.5 years in a space craft... it's like 2.5 years in prison.   Can you imagine being in a building (we'll call the space craft a "building" out of kindness... though it's probably not as big as the Discovery in 2001: A Space Odyssey) for 2.5 years?  Not being allowed outside?  That would get old pretty quick.

Would there be artificial gravity inside the craft on this 2.5 year voyage?  There'd need to be!  The long-voyage Cosmonauts all had to be carried from their spacecraft.  All but one, who was religious about exercising fanatically with rubber ropes, doing deep knee bends in zero-gravity.  He walked off.  The rest... carried off for lack of muscle strength and bone density.

What is someone on board takes ill?  How can they get to the hospital?  Well... they're already there, since that's all the hospital they're going to get.

Okay... but what if you get to go with your closest friends?

Sure... remember that long road trip with your closest friends?  How close were you at the end of that week? Ready to part ways?  Well... this trip is 2.5 years long.

The facts may not all be correct, but the feeling is mine... no trips to Mars...  I'll enjoy the red planet remotely with robots and cameras and video and sound.

Oh... but how wonderful it would be stand on Mars?  It would be awesome... I would love to go to Mars.

I just wouldn't want to GO there.

Then I should say I'd love to BE on Mars... but not go there.

Please Deposit Seventy-Five Cents

Why can't I make up my mind and stick with it?

There's someone standing right outside this phone booth looking in... they have so many more people to place calls to than I...  and yet I just stay in here, making call after call after call.

Why am I so selfish?

Get out, boy, there's only room for one at a time!

Just

From a 7-year-old boy (at least I'd estimate him at 7, that's how he behaves) in reference to a rabbit he's seen on display in the window:

I tried to be its friend.  But that didn't work.

I tried to be its admiring fan.  That didn't work either.

I tried to go back in time and never walk past that window!  No luck there either.

What do I do now?