Swine flu

I have spent the better part of the last six days horizontal. In misery. Vertical only when necessary. Hoping that another 12 or so hours would pass before I would have to rise again. There was a spike approximately 2 weeks ago in H1N1 in this area, and i thought we had made it through unscathed.

The pain from this flu was wretched.

I was supposed to be in Death Valley, California, enjoying a week in the desert. More importantly, a week out of the miserable gray that is St. Louis this time of year.

Tonight a 5:30 p.m. I turned a corner. Here's hoping there's no relapse!

This is a test run of blogpress (the free one) for the iphone.

Picture taken of a large oak tree in the park (which should be aligned to the right).

A phone call came in and blogpress didn't auto save a long paragraph I was working on when the call came in. That kind of sucks. Also I can't seem to get a title when I tap the box.

Though im not going to let such little things bother me as it is A lovely fall day, and the bloody rain finally stopped.

I spent the past week on the east coast. In Virginia specifically. I had a job interview of sorts, and post visit I am very, very excited about the upcoming project(s).

I have come to a sobering realization over this past week.



I realized that i am a seatfiller for the project I am currently involved with. It doesn't matter what I come up with idea-wise, someone else is supposed to already be doing it. I am left with nearly no option for publications and that is frustrating as hell. Oh well.



The foliage is starting to change and that and the new job prospect make me smile.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

When the Muse is Over.....

She's Back!!!!!

It's all in how you read it, or have it read to you.

The following headline caught my eye on BBC News today.

I have to admit that I was shocked to learn the following:





This must absolutely explain why people poach animals. They get a a really, really long high from it.

Sign me up. Why not. I could use a 15 year break. Though, imagine that wretched 1st day of the 16th year.

Of course, it really is how you read things, or rather how your mind interprets what you read. I'm sure that the headline was meant to grab attention by all on the internet, but I don't imagine that they were trying to make those that crave a never ending romp through stoned-ville go out and kill a highly endangered mammal. In fact, one (I) only need read a bit further to see that this a warning about the ridiculously high numbers of animals killed for nasal decoration, not a seemingly never ending tear through psychedelia.










English is funny. There are so many words that mean so many different things, and so many phrases that can be taken out of context even without the aid of selective editing.

Happy Birthday America...

Happy Birthday America was the battle cry. Then we launched a full bottle rocket and roman candle assault upon the county jail and the unsuspecting officers inside. We had the high ground. Certainly not the moral high ground, but physically. We were shooting down at them from a roof. Surely, we would win this battle. Our fight was noble one. Damn the man! The Scene is shown above. The upper center is the county courthouse in between Main and Court streets. Just south of this, facing north onto Court Street, is a row of shops & a restaurant. Each building on Court street has a second floor apartment. When I was an undergraduate, I had a group of friends that occupied 1/2 of this block. One apartment had a large storage room that led out onto the roof. Looking southeast from our rooftop bunker, at the corner of Market and Fourth Streets, is the county jail. Inside, there were cops and likely some robbers.
The roof is where the battle plans were drawn up, and where the entirety of our soon to be triumphant battle would be fought.

I am not sure who threw the first bottle rocket, but I do know that it was not the cops. It was, after all, a surprise attack. Nor do I pretend to understand, in any way, what the hell we thought were doing. Just having some fun, hillbilly style. The barrage began after the first rocket was released. There was no going back now. Victory or Death. Jail at least. Each of us loaded up and fired, repeatedly. Cigarettes as ignition sources for the explosives, beer as fuel for the revelers. We kept up the attack for 15 or so minutes. When one of us (not me) shot a roman candle at a passing ambulance. This, was precisely the point when the fun went too far.

The cops poured out from the jailhouse, raced to their cars and barricaded us in. This did not take long as they only had to cross the street. They blocked all possible escapes with squad cars, flares, and roadblocks on the east (4th) and west (5th) streets (see above). We were not soldiers and as such were not prepared for any of this. Though if you can't take the heat there is no sense in lighting a fire, right? We hunkered down in the living room and stared out onto a town square that was now drenched in rotating red and blue flashes of light, and a group of armed men moving in. We had to think fast and draw up another set of plans. These were not going to be good plans.

We could pretend to be asleep. Yes, it was someone else throwing these explosives. This strategy would be attempted by 2 people, but would not effective. Roof tar on the feet would surely show that all were involved. We could confront them. How dare these cops! But they have guns, thus this also would not work. Then the forceful knock on the door.

We don't have to let them in.

I'm not sure about this next piece of logic. I don't know if it is true or simply a rural myth, but we believed growing up that if you were having a party and the cops showed up you simply did not have to open the door. If you did then they could come in, and life would end, but if you did not let them in then they could do nothing. Yes, our plan was solid, we would not let them in!

They wanted in, and They were persistent.

2 people laid down in the living room, they were going to fake sleep. The knocking continued. Followed now by hostile voices demanding to be let in. The urgency at the door was reaching a fever pitch. Inside, we were losing it. They can't come in if we don't open the door, they can't come in if we don't open the door, a silent mantra.

Someone opened the door. (This simple act is the sole reason that I don't know if not opening the door is a rural myth or truth.*)

Now with the door opened we knew that we were in for all sorts of trouble. For some reason some of us (me) felt like we were on solid legal ground. Thus yelling back seemed a reasonable response to being shouted at. The yelling match lasted a bit, but not as long as our attack had. I had many more things I wanted to say, but luckily for some reason refrained. Once both sides had calmed down and cooler heads were in play we had a discussion/lecture that largely consisted of "what the hell were you thinking?" and "it was funny until you shot at the ambulance." "Funny"? Holy shit, we weren't going to jail? After a few more minutes of rhetorical question and lecture the officers left. I have no idea why. The flashing lights stopped. Court street was re-opened to traffic. We only had to swear that none of us would leave.

At this point I argued for a second assault, but was quickly told there was not a chance in hell we were doing that again. Once had apparently been enough for everyone.



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Image Credit: The town center of my hometown from http://maps.google.com/

*Truth be told, I have had more than ten other close interactions with the law enforcement community in this town. Though, as in this case, I have not been on shaky legal ground. I have asked repeatedly about the not coming in without the door being opened for them. This is apparently a bit of a gray area. Or at least they didn't know. Remind me some to recount a story about a Firebird crashing into a telephone pole and a young band having some drinks before getting into a cop car.

When Least Needed, Most Likely to Happen

Since none of you have read this I'll bring you up to speed. I've noted that I have recently spent time in Puerto Rico. This is the story of how we almost didn't get there.

We had a 6 a.m. departure time from the airport. So I need to be at the airport at least 1.5 hours before that, i.e. ~ 4:30 a.m. This is all so that we can be sitting on the beach by mid-afternoon at the fabulous Caribe Hilton. We didn't pack until late into the night before we left. And the packing couldn't be finished until laundry was done. So by 10 p.m. or so we were ready to begin packing. We had to pack the full gamut of clothing styles: beach wear, casual, semi-formal and formal clothes. Packing is a process for us. Neither one of us believes the other makes adequate use of the space provided by travel bags, or dishwashers for that matter. However, in this instance I decided to be completely hands off and allow my better half to pack without influence. This worked great except that since I was not placing any of the items in the bag I wound up with about 2 weeks worth of clothes for a 5 day trip. I digress.

We packed everything and at around 1 a.m., and settled in for a very short sleep. I set the alarm for 3:30 and shut down. My lovely better half has taken to sleeping in the study when she is not able to unwind, and as this night would have it, she felt as though she could not sleep. The alarm went off, and I hit the snooze button for 50 minutes, making it 4:20. When I finally realized that the alarm was going off for good reason, at this ungodly hour, I frantically went to awake her. Explaining, to her hazed and unresponsive eyes & mind that we were desperately late. I knew that making our flight not guaranteed. In 25 minutes, we were out the door, i.e. 4:45, and I was trying to keep my fervor to a minimum. We had a 20 minute drive to get to the airport. So at 5:05 a.m., 55 minutes from departure and 45 minutes from final boarding, we are still trying to find a parking spot in the garage across the interstate from the airport.

Now, you may have cut your time this close before, but I have not. Ever. I really don't wish to again.

We parked, unloaded our bags and waited for the shuttle, which luckily was there within a minute. I thought to myself, OK, we are going to make it. However, other people had shown up in the garage at the same time as us, and our plight was no more important than anyone else's. We picked up three other people and wasted valuable time before heading off to the main terminal.

Dropped at the terminal we rushed inside to claim our boarding passes and check our luggage. At this point I was thinking that we are really going to make it. We loaded our bags for TSA to check and rushed to security. (This is a phenomenon at St. Louis airport that I haven't seen anywhere else. The passengers carry their bags to TSA trolleys. The employees at the counter who weigh the bags and check people in don't handle the bags.)

So we are at security and at this time of the morning the line is thankfully pretty short. I take out my laptop and put it into a seperate bin and put my backpack through. I place my phone in a bin, take off my shoes and move to the metal detector where Jesus Quintana apparently has started with TSA. Jesus is this guy. ------->

For those not familiar with this character, "nobody fucks with the Jesus".

The metal detector goes off and Jesus is not pleased. I take my wallet out and move through again. The metal detector goes off again and Jesus is less pleased. Confused, I look down. I can't think of anything that would be causing the alarm to go off. I have my keys in my pocket, but they don't set those things off. I take the keys out of my pocket and step through the metal detector for a third time. I thought Jesus would explode at that point. He starts yelling at me, in the way that people with newly acquired, but completely unearned power often will. Arms flailing, voice an octave or so higher than normal. I am stumped. Then a stranger asks if I have a belt on. I do. I remove it and Jesus gives me the evil eye. I should note here that over numerous flights for the past 13 or so years I have never once had a metal detector go off as I went through. So, of course on this morning it would happen. 3 times. With Jesus watching.

I'm through the metal detectors and putting my shoes back on with about 20 minutes until departure. I'm still a bit concerned about making the flight (final boarding is only 10-15 minutes away), but I'm more concerned that my backpack has not come out of the X-ray machine. Additionally, the number of non-Jesus TSA employees gathering at the TV to peer into my backpack is growing quite large. This cannot be good. I start to go over what all I have in there that could possibly be drawing attention. I have a flashlight, a headlamp, a digital camera, 2 flip video cameras (1 in an underwater case), 2 books, and 2 dive masks and snorkels. At this point we are told that one of us has to stay with TSA. I said I would and asked a woman what the problem was. She was very curteous, and explained that the way the items were packed looked suspicious. I said that there was nothing that was a problem, but she said all items would have to be pulled out and inspected! Of course they will. First, they do the chemical swipe to make sure there is no "bomb" residues. This has always seemed a little odd to me, but I don't want them telling me how to do my job. This takes way too long. Then every item comes out and is inspected. Mask & Snorkel, perhaps that is my breathing kit for whatever nefarious scenario they had worked out for me. Video camera with AA batteries. Obviously, this could be used in some bad, bad way. Anway after a gut-wrenching 10 minutes they clear me to leave. The woman offers to help re-pack the backpack, but the pace at which she removed items tells me that it will take even longer to get everything back in. There was after all an order to how I had the items packed. There was no time for properly placing items back in. I crammed everything into the backpack as fast as I could and ran to the gate.

8 hours later we were on the beach. We had 5 wonderful days in the surf, sand, and sun.


We almost didn't make the flight back home, but that is too much for me to think about right now.

Hulu-ser

The digital conversion has left me with no television. The TV is still there, but it doesn't receive any signal, except for some home shopping thing on channel 7 - which is weird. I didn't know that the switch had even happened until a few days ago, when bored I flipped the power button on the remote. I saw static. I guess I thought that the government would postpone it again. The digital TV lobby must be strong. So, without analog signal the 27" behemoth is now a cumbersome paperweight. I don't even have my GameCube (i know that is old, but it works) hooked up. The DVD player is hooked up, but with external monitor(s)* and laptops strewn about the house we no longer have to sit on the couch or the broken futon.

This digital switch must have happened while I was in Puerto Rico (unfortunately, still no pictures, but I do have above ground and underwater video). Thus, in the evenings I am out of mind-numbing boob tube options (which only consisted originally of 5 channels). At least I thought that I was out of options.....

Enter Hulu. I know now what a spiritual awakening is like. I had caught a show or ten on the site, but after this weekend life is different. I have spent the entire time re-watching all three seasons of Arrested Development. This show is still brilliant. If you haven't seen it, go ahead and watch it. All of it. It will take about 22 or so hours, but you will not regret it. Well, maybe you will. Some of the funniest things I've seen in years happened over the 24 hours of arrested development. The characters and writing were great and the cast was outstanding. Afternoon Delight has to be one of the best episodes.

I am now officially a Hulu-ser.



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Images: http://www.kued.org/uploads/graphics/225-303_ist2_4783663-tv-static.jpg

* Fingers crossed

Back, In Heat

I'm back.

At least I think I am. Physically I'm here, but mentally I'm in & out. Plus, the heat here is suffocating, and there's no sign of it breaking for a week or so. Go to work early & stay late, or if possible don't go at all. This is part of the reason that I'm out mentally. Don't go if you can help it is alright with me. This is due partly to extensive travel for the last 4 months. I have been in, over, or around 12 of the 50 United States, and spent time on the ground in three countries. All of this while covering well over 10,000 miles, the vast majority of which were covered alone and behind the wheel. So, to say the least, I'm having trouble sitting down and getting back to where I was & where I need to be.

I spent the better part of April & May traveling extensively through Mexico and the southwestern U.S. Previously, I had only been to Nuevo Laredo & Tiajuana. Which, I can now say with certainty, do not adequately or appropriately represent Mexico. I guess I always knew this, but it was solidified in remote stretches of the country.

Mexico is beautiful. Using Casas Grandes as a makeshift base I covered extensively both the high desert of Chihuahua and the more proper desert of Sonora. Lots of hiking in the mountains and desert, and lots of driving. The occassional traffic stop was interesting, to say the least, and the ubiquitous police and military checkpoints helped break up the monotony on some of the long drives. There is really nothing like a bunch of heavily armed young men with whom you do not speak a common language to really make you think about learning a foreign language. Pointing with one hand and using the other hand for random gestures to communicate was pretty much pointless (as if that needed to be said). Also, apparently speaking louder does not make one's communications clearer.

As you know, Mexico has been in the news a lot lately. Horrible violence in Juarez, and other border towns, earthquakes near Mexico City, the U.S.'s assessment of a possible failed state, and, of course, the over-hyped apocalyptic origin of a new virus. I think that newscasters & news agencies generally are turning to the type of work that was once home only to weather forecasters. Tell everyone the world is ending (it is going to storm or the sun is going to shine) and then when it doesn't (forecast is opposite of predicted) go on as if you said nothing. Don't even acknowledge that you were part of the frenzy.

While I was in Mexico I can assure you that I was not involved with any of the aforementioned problems, and that swine flu scare was bizarre on the northern side of the border. My fiancee did fall sick upon my return, but I don't believe that it was Swine Flu. She, however, did think that it was (or could be) and believed me responsible. She pulled through just fine, but she was really sick for quite some time.

This is the part where I would like to show a couple pictures from the last trip I took, which was to Puerto Rico. However, my camera has decided that it doesn't work any more, and the images that I can see are abstract renderings of whatever they were originally. So pictures of the islands will have to come at some other time (hopefully).

What I've learned this Month (The year to Date Edition)

What follows is a little idea I have for recapping the events in the news from the past "month" that have either struck me or stuck with me. Generally, I will try to keep each brief though I cannot promise that this will always be the case. Since this is already the start of March, I'll recap the last 2 months. Then at the end of each upcoming month I'll repeat, with new What I've learned.

First what a couple months it has been:

The first African-American was sworn in as the 44th President of these United States. I was truly moved and very excited not only because of the implications for race in the U.S., but also because I am excited to have a left leaning politician back in the Executive Office. However, I am a bit dismayed by the fact that it does not matter what he does, we get to hear about it. I'm more than a little surprised that his bodily functions are not written about*.

A conservative talk show host apparently has so much power over the party he pitches for that an individual elected to help run the government and conduct the countries business must take time out of his day to call in and apologize for saying, and I'm paraphrasing, that as a radio personality it is easy to sit on the sideline. Further, the head of the RNC said what seemed to be an honest assessment of the Missouri Fatman, but he too had to call in and bow at the altar of M.F. It seems to me that it must be very easy to be on the sidelines, and that he truly is a simple entertainer, but the torch has been passed.

The winning-est Olympic athlete in history smokes weed (come on we both know that is not his first time on the water pipe). One of the highest paid athletes ever cheats, pardon me, cheated. Regularly. For Years. (But thus far only for those years he's been caught).

There are people who will take pictures of you smoking weed and sell them, but unless you're famous no one but the cops will give a damn.

Planes can occasionally land on water, but apparently not all seats can be used for flotation devices. I did not see a single person using a flotation device. If I had just lived through that, I'm floating. I'll try to remember next time when I'm bitching about the cost of airline travel that those really old cylinders we crawl into are safe only because of the pilot and the crew (both in the air & on the ground). Also, remember that pilots make squat for pay, and if he or she is unhappy they can kill you. Write your airline carrier and demand that they pay their staff more. Really what does the CEO of an airline company do? Buy fuel and peanuts? The pilot and air and ground crews are absolutely responsible for your safety. Also, screw birds.

NYC is prepared for disaster. How fast were those boats there to help people!!

A country that made massive leaps in November to elect an African-American president, has descended into hysteria over a mother who had 8 children. Octo-mom as she is now dubbed has drawn ire and fire from so many different angles. It seems like only a few years ago that when someone had six or seven babies the U.S. went crazy to help support them. Companies donated diapers, cribs, clothes. I really can't for the life of me understand why people are so pissed off. If she had chosen to terminate some of the feti then the pro-life crown would be pissed. She couldn't win I guess. If she turns out to be a bad mom then intervene, but as of right now please mind your own home.

hmmmm, seems like there should be more. But alas that is all that is sticking.

All the best.







*This trend has subsided over the past few weeks.

One of Those Years....

I think it's going to be one of those years. Though, this is not necessarily a bad thing.

We are nearly 2 full months into 2009 and I feel as if time is getting short. Not in life, but in things I wish to accomplish this year. For example, I planned on starting this site on 1-Jan-2009.

It is not, as I glance at my calendar, and as you probably already know, 1-Jan-2009. Better late than never though. Right?

I'm not quite sure what form this blog will take. Over time the useless bits will likely be sifted out and newer useless bits will work their way in. I guess that is part of this whole thing. Finding one's own place in space. I have a few blogs that I look at daily, others that I remember much more infrequently. I will likely mimic and look for inspiration in those that I really like. I will also use what I don't like to help mold my own.

I'm sure there will be days where I don't feel like writing, but I am determined to try. There will be times when I can't write as my job dictates that I spend significant time not only away from home, but also out of the country. Though, to be sure I do hope to be able to write on the road. Some of my favorite stories involve roads so it seems like a natural way to purge thoughts. The trips should also make for some good stories!

In case you are curious about the title chappal-dirt it is quite simple.

Step 1: Come up with a name that was not my own.
Step 2: Make it clever.

I have succeeded in step 1, but I may be the only one who thinks that this is clever. Well, my partner also thinks it clever, but I have a feeling that she is biased. Anyway, back to the title.

Chappal's are an Indian sandal. I like India. Dirt is often found on chappals. Also, and only coincidentally, dirt can be used in place of scoop or gossip. Oh, I wear sandals when I can. Thus chappal-dirt was born.


Anyway, that is enough for introductory thoughts. I'm bored with them, but I look forward to this experiment and hope that I can keep it up.....


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