"00" Review

Okay, this is for you, Mike Peterson.

2000 My father takes ill in April and dies in August

2001 My grandson Carter Alexander Tangen is born in December

2002 Oldest son deploys with Idaho Air Guard to Oman

2003 Youngest granddaughter Christina Jane Tangen is born in January

2004 Not sure just what happened this year but I'm sure work started to suck real bad

2005 Oldest son deploys with Air Guard for 5 months in Qatar and 5 months in Germany

2006 Blood pressure is at highest levels ever for me

2007 Start taking insulin for my Type 2 Diabetes

2008 Oldest son deploys with Air Guard to Cyprus for 5 months. I retire after 24 years as 911 operator

2009 Oldest son deploys with Air Guard to Iraq. My blood pressure is down in the good range and my blood sugars are in the target ranges finally. It only took 18 months of retirement. Now if I could only lose some weight.

Even with all of this I thought the 2000's weren't all that bad. Sure there was lots to worry about and the world was a very unsafe place but you know life goes on. To quote my favorite song writer "Some of its magic and some of its tragic but I had a good life all the way" Jimmy Buffett. So that's the way it is.

The Fire is so Delightful

I sit here watching the snow and thinking how glad I'm that I have retired. I can just imagine what it is like in dispatch right now. The phones ringing and ringing and the continuous chatter on the the radios. I had thought that I would miss the excitement and the hustle and bustle of dispatch but now I'm just glad to be home and watching the snow and warming myself by the fire.

I just about hear the phones and people reporting accidents and slide offs. I can hear people asking when the officers will arrive at their fender bender. I can just imagine the news media calling and asking how many calls there have been. Officers calling wanting to know when the wrecker will get to their location. I can hear the admin operator calling the tow companies over and over requesting wreckers and ETA's.

The radios will be going crazy. Calls being dispatched, units going on location and status updates being given. Officers asking for wreckers, demanding ETA's and wanting sanders and deicers. Everyone demanding first priority on sand and never understanding that ACHD doesn't drop everything because an officer wants sand at his location or that bridge or overpass. I can almost hear the tempers rising and nerves fraying.

The weather outside is frightful
but the fire is so delightful and
since I've no where to go
Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow.

Writing or Something Like It

It sure has been awhile since I have written here and I'm not really sure why. It sure isn't as if I have nothing to say. I do have a problem sometimes getting out a coherent thought. That may be because I don't write enough. I remember just about every English teacher I had saying that you had to write everyday to ever get good at it. I was listening to NPR yesterday and they were interviewing an author that said writing is a solitary endeavor and that was what made it so hard to do. However, going off by yourself and writing for at least an hour a day for 21 days was the only way to get going. He said that somewhere in those 21 days a light bulb would turn on and writing, while still hard would at least become more understandable and then possibly easier.

I don't really fancy myself a writer but I do have something to say. While I'm not sure just what it is I do believe that it is important to leave something behind that your ancestors will be able to look at and maybe feel something of what you and your life were like. It doesn't have to be anything profound because lets face it how many of us really are all that profound. So I'm going to strive to write a coherent, well thought out paragraph everyday about myself and hope that in the future someone will be able to understand me just a little bit. Some of it I will post here in the hopes that it will outlive me and go into some timeless archive to be accessed by future Tangen's. A bit of immortality and that is something we all want.

4th of July

I sit here listening to all the fireworks going off in the neighborhood and find myself wondering just what sort of recession is this. My next door neighbor has been setting off fireworks for the last 60 minutes and not just the safe and sane stuff. They have launched at least 20 aerial rockets and those are not cheap. In fact I was rather bummed out about not going to see the big show downtown but I need not have worried. The show in and around the neighborhood is spectacular to say the least. It is nice to know that I don't have to spend a dime but can see a great display of aerial fireworks while sitting in my front yard.

Rob called this evening and he is still at Al Asad in Iraq. He was supposed to have left today to start his journey back to Boise. They were grounded by a sandstorm but should get out tomorrow. They will be going to Qatar to await the rotator. He says he will be back in Boise on the 12th of July. No reason why they will have to wait so long in Qatar but at least he is out of Iraq. He says this the last time he will volunteer for a deployment.

I did get a very pleasant surprise today. I heard from a friend from way out of my past. He found me because of a comment I had left on a fan site about Seattle radio stations on Facebook. He is Joey Fleischauer from Spokane. He is two years older than me but he was my best friend in the world at the time. I have often wondered about him over the years and to hear from him after 54 years is real surprise. I have written back to him and will have to try and see him. He is living in the Seattle area and is using the name Joe Micheals. It is sure becoming a smaller world.

The Life Not Lived

I have always thought that crying at the movies was a female only occupation. Today I found out differently. Apparently 56 year old men can cry at the movies also. Lets backup a little here. Caroline and I have not had a weekend with Carter in a month. We made the arrangements and picked Carter up at noon. We went to see the movie Up. A Pixar movie is always a good bet and this was no exception. It is the story of Carl Fredericksen, who at age 78 not only feels but knows that the life he had wanted to live had passed him by. Aided by an 8 year old wilderness scout, Russell, Carl goes on the adventure he had always dreamed of having. That by itself is pretty poignant stuff but not the stuff of tears, at least for me. For me that came in the first fifteen minutes of the movie.

The movie starts with Carl as a young boy at the movies watching a newsreel of his hero a world famous adventurer and explorer. Cut to Carl walking home and living his own adventure in his head on the way. He meets a young girl with the same interests and well one thing leads to another. The next five or more minutes is a montage of scenes of their courtship, marriage, discovering their inability to have children and the sadness of that and then the rediscovering of their earlier passion for adventure. They start saving for the trip to their first adventure and then how life gets in the way and slows and finally stops their dream as they do the responsible thing. When Carl finally has the money for their long forgotten trip his beloved wife takes sick and dies. Carl is left alone to wonder just how it all happened that his life just passed him by. At that point the tears start.

I'm no Carl Fredericksen but there is a part of my life I never took the chance to live. I grew up reading National Geographic and reading about Lowell Thomas, Admiral Bird and John Wesley Powell. I wanted to take pictures or make documentary films of all the exciting places and exotic animals there were in the world. Of course I got married too young and joined the military to avoid the draft and so there went 5 years of my life and then we had the boys. So I did the responsible thing and got a job and worked at being a family man. Then one day I saw an add for a entry position with a documentary film company in Seattle. So on the way home from work I talked with them. They were interested in me and liked the pictures I had made over the last several years. I never breathed a word of it to Caroline. The job would have been low paying and required lots of travel and time away from home. So I did the responsible thing and put it out of my mind.

Today while watching the montage of Carl's life I remembered that long forgotten chance and choice and so the tears. If you are at the movies and see a middle aged or older man with tears on his face don't laugh and think he is an old softy. It just may be that something in the movie hit a little too close to home and he is just remembering a long forgotten part of his life and is wondering what amazing adventure he missed.

Contrails and Black Helicopters

I was listening to Idaho Talks Back Live this morning and was hoping to hear something good. This was open phones Friday and the talk is on any subject so I had my fingers crossed. I was surprised when every caller mentioned something about the contrails in the sky. It seems these are part of a government conspiracy to either control the weather or our minds. It seems that the government has a fleet of secretly modified jet aircraft that can either spray mind control chemicals or drop aluminum oxide to make clouds that can cause rain, global warming or increase the rates of skin and other cancers. Who knew that our government which can't control the economy or devise a plan to defeat Al Qaeda and capture Osama bin Laden could do this and keep it secret. Of course this is all part of a bigger plan by the United Nations to institute a World Government. This is so patantly absurd that I can hardly keep from laughing myself silly, but then again there was a large black SUV that followed me and now there is a black helicopter hovering over the backyard.

Where Did I Live

I went to Seattle over the weekend to take care of some business and try and get back in touch with my past. We lived in 4 different houses in the Seattle area while I was growing up. My mission was to find and photograph them. I knew that two of them didn't exist anymore. The first house was the Maple Valley house. This was a log cabin that my dad rented for the Summer of 1957. It was a log cabin with a dirt floor for the kitchen and living room area. The rest of it had a poured concrete floor. There was a river in the backyard and my mother lived in fear that my brother or I would fall in. Being kids of course it was the only place we wanted to play. I'm not sure when but it was torn down and new house was built in its place.

The second house was the Des Moines Way house. I lived there from age 7 to 21. This was the first house my parents bought in Seattle. It was remodeled after my sister was born. My dad built an addition to the house and made it from a two bedroom to three bedroom house. My dad and I rewired the house and re plumbed it. Well, my dad did the work I was helper and gopher. I did paint the interior with some help from mom. The house was under one of the runways for Sea-Tac Airport and was eventually bought up by the airport. My parents traded it for a house on Vashon Island. For years after it was bought up the house sat there empty and boarded up. It was finally bulldozed down. It has been several years since since I was last there and I drove by it twice before I was able to find the spot. It is now a part of a natural area and greenbelt. The trees we planted 40 years ago are now giants. I was able to find several of the red cedars and Douglas firs. Still there was no indication that there had ever been a house there. It was as if my family and I had never existed.

I then went looking for the Wolf house. This was another rental. It was between the log cabin and the Des Moines Way house. We lived there about one year and I believe that mom and dad had tired to buy it. I drove to the street only to find it was yet another victim of the airport. The area was fenced off and the weeds and blackberries had completely overgrown the area and there was no house visible. Another part of my childhood gone.

Next I decided to go to Vashon and see that house. I never lived in it but I spent many days and nights there while visiting my parents. My mom always said that she never thought she would live in house with a view. The house sits on a hill and has views of downtown Seattle and the Olympic Mountains. Unfortunately mom found out she had macular degeneration after living there only a couple of years. When dad died in 2000 mom sold the house and moved back to Seattle to be closer to my sister. As I drove up the house looked very different. Mom and dad had painted it a light shade of gray with a red front door. The house was now green with a very uninviting black door. The house was for sale and the sign said 'View Property". I thought of mom and started to cry. I went to my dad's grave site, which is on the island, and discovered that I had run out of tears for myself, for the memories or anything else.

I got back in the car and drove down to the ferry terminal and waited for my turn to drive on board. When I got off in West Seattle I didn't even drive by the first house we had lived in. I just couldn't have bared to find that it was gone also. I do know that at least for me the old saying is true, "You really can't go home again".

Like Father Like Son

My father would have loved the internet and email. He was thinking about getting a computer just before his death in 2000 but at 87 he was wondering if he wanted to learn yet one more new technology. He was a letter writer. To be more specific he was a crank, there was nothing government could do that he wouldn't find fault with. He would think about a problem and then write to the person or person in that part of government with a solution to the problem. He wrote numerous letters to the State of Washington about problems ranging from taxation to road repair. He wrote to the members of the state legislature and to the members of Washington's Congressional Delegation. Given the number of letters he wrote a computer and email would have been a real advantage.

Like my father I too write letters to Idaho's Congressional Delegation about things that I feel passionate about. Unlike my father I use the internet and I don't think I'm a crank, yet. I like being able to write something and send it immediately. Dad had an old typewriter, a large address book, lots of paper, envelopes and postage. I have a computer, Google and email. Unlike my father I tend to vent my feelings about issues and only rarely do I have an alternative. With the economy, the war in Iraq and all the bailouts I have had plenty to vent about.

As I think about it maybe I'm a crank. My father at least had solutions to the problems he wrote about, I just complain. I'm not to the point were I complain about kids moving the rocks in the driveway but it could be just a matter of time. I have a brain and my dad always was telling me to use it. Well dad, I'm going to follow your advice and work on some solutions and send those to the idiots in Washington D.C. Maybe then they will read what I write and maybe things will change for the better. O, wait now I'm being overly optimistic and dad was never that.

Random Thoughts Random Thoughts

I was looking at the Blogs of Note and wondering if I would ever make it. I've decided I will not. For one thing I don't write something everyday or even every other day. Consistent blogging seems to be a key ingredient in being a Blog of Note. I know that I have in the past said I would write more but I'm beginning to think that I'm a procrastinator, but I will have more about that later. I'm also not clever. All the Blogs of Note have some clever or unusual aspect about them. Most times I'm lucky to get a coherent thought and on a really good day a complete thought. Pictures are also a key in many of the blogs and while I have pictures most of mine are more snapshot than some great photographic expression. 

So I'm going to keep blogging away in my own less than perfect style and hope that I find a voice and something that makes me want and need to write everyday. I'm taking more pictures and I'm working to find a style there also. Maybe I need a makeover. Thats it a makeover something that will clean out my closet of old and uninspired thoughts and images. A makeover that will ignite the fires of creativity, style, voice and inspiration. Yeah, I'll get started on that first thing tomorrow. Blog of Note here I come.   

Day 21 of the Deployment with Just Some Random Thoughts

Carter played his first soccer game last Saturday. His team, Blue Navy something that is hard for this old Air Force guy to root for, won 6-4 over the Rolling Red Thunder. Carter played well and had a good time but it was easy to see that something was missing for him. On Sunday we took him to his dad's house and watched movies. His dad called from Iraq and Carter and him had a good talk about the soccer game and how Carter played. After the call Carter was very quiet and subdued. At one point in the movie "Hollywood Chihuahua" when the puppy is lost in Mexico Carter looks at me and says I thought this was a funny movie. Lucky for us the movie did get funnier but Carter still snuggled in and stayed very close. Watching Pinochhio didn't help any either. Carter was really feeling lost and just a little left behind.

I worry for Carter because a 7 year old shouldn't have to worry about their dad being in a needless war. Carter, this time, knows how long 120 days is and he also has an understanding of the risks his dad is facing. On the news I see that while the troops are going to leaving Iraq they are instead going to Afghanistan, another needless war. In 2002 when we went into Afghanistan to get Osama bin Laden we were in reality fighting a war on terrorism and on terrorists. Then along comes Iraq and the focus was lost and the terrorists were allowed to melt away to continue their war of hate and extremism. Obama wants to bring the war back to Afghanistan but is getting told that the time for troops and warfare may be past. Also his plan doesn't get us any closer to Osama bin Laden. Obama knows this and so the fake outrage over the AIG bonuses. Move attention away from the needless war with outrage over something that is small in scale but does touch a hot button of sorts.

Every military power since Alexander The Great has been unable to defeat the Afghan tribal areas and people. We will lose also as they don't want us there or care for the ideals we are trying force down their throats. If they want to live in the 12th century let them. We can put a fence around them and let them have the life they want. We can monitor them and make sure the terrorists stay there and hope that sometime in the futrue the Afghan people will decide to move forward without the terrorists and then maybe we can help with a force of arms. For now bring the troops home so Carter and all the children like him can have their fathers and mothers at home were they belong. STOP THIS NEEDLESS AND ENDLESS WAR.

Deployment Day 16 You Can't Tell a Book by its Cover

The first soccer game for Carter and the guys will be this Saturday. We have been practicing and trying to learn the basics of the game. We are working on dribbling, passing and just running. I know, all little boys run but some are better than others. Carter, unfortunately runs like most Tangen men. He is slow and manages to look as if he is falling the whole time. At the end of every practice we have the boys scrimmage for the last 20 minutes. Once the boys start playing Carter's running skills don't seem to matter. He is right in the thick of it.

We start the practice with some stretching and then a run. One of the other boys skips instead of runs. He shuffles through the dribbling practices and just overall seems to be a hundred miles away. He is not disruptive or anything like that just totally uninterested. In the scrimmage he turns into a tiger. He is always in the thick of it. Running, kicking and trying to steal the ball from the opposing player. In fact he is the only boy that tries at every opportunity to steal the ball and make shots on goal. I said something to his mother about this and she was also amazed. He has never played a sport before and this competitiveness was something she had never seen.

Another boy runs like the wind and has good ball control skills. During the scrimmage he holds back by the goal and never really attacks the ball. I keep trying to get him to move forward but with little success. I finally discover that he wants to be the goalie because he hates to run. As the boys learn to play soccer I'm also learning some valuable lessons about kids, abilities and desire to win.

Deployment Day 14 More Soccer News

The first couple of soccer practices have been fun. The weather has been terrible, cold, wet, and just plain miserable. The kids loved it. Apparently playing soccer in the snow is a blast. There are several boys that have played soccer for the last two years and those, like Carter, that have never played before. Carter has the Tangen running gene, unfortunately. He looks like he is falling the entire time and is one of the slowest runners out there. So at the practices we do some running and we practice dribbling, passing and other ball handling skills. Their first game is this Saturday and I just hope that the weather is just a little nicer.

San Antonio, TX made me homesick

I was in basic training USAF. I was 20 recently married and Texas in August sucks.

My favorite line from 'Star Wars'

"Don't get cocky kid" Just describes my life.

Deployment Day 8 Assistant Soccer Coach

I can't help but think that if Rob had been here that this would not have happened to me. Carter is playing soccer this spring. He has never played an organized sport before and as far as I know he isn't all that competitive. Carter's mom called me last night and asked me to help as assistant coach for the team that her girl friend is coaching. I have never coached anything in my life. The last time I played soccer had to be at least 40 years ago. I'm not sure that I will do all that well with this. But then these are only 1st and 2nd grade kids.

I remember when Rob was in 2nd grade he played soccer. The team never won a game. They came close twice but were never able to score that winning goal. There was no real game plan, no outstanding players. Just a bunch of little boys in a large scrum with legs kicking furiously. I remember one game in particular. There was one boy that ran a little stiff legged and he didn't take off his sweats when the game started. About 5 minutes into the game at mid-field there was the large kicking cluster of kids. Suddenly there was a leg flying through the air and before you could even blink all the boys but one were standing with their parents. The one boy was sitting on his butt. The ref asked him if he was okay and he said he was. Then the ref asked if one of the kids had kicked his leg off and the boy says no it was his fault. He had a prosthetic leg and he had not tightened all the straps.

I'm sure that this coaching job will be fun, even if there are no prosthetic legs involved. I just wish Rob was the one doing it. Carter needs his dad to be there not his grandpa. My job is to root and take pictures. As for now I guess I had better go get a book or something on coaching soccer for little kids.

Deployment Day 6

I received an email from Rob today saying that he has safely arrived in Iraq. No info on what things are like but that may change when he gets his own Internet hook up in his room. He has his laptop with him so maybe he can be more candid about things than having to use the government computers. He got all the guys there in one piece so he should be feeling better now. He really put a lot of stress on himself over being in charge of getting them all there. He s a big worrier, I have no idea where he gets that from.

I have been to his house everyday since he has left. Put out the garbage cans and check on the mail. Saw Carter this weekend and he is doing okay. He was outside playing with friends. I know that the deployment is only 120 days and should be boring but I can't help but worry.

Deployment Day 3

Rob did call yesterday just before he was to board the plane from Norfolk Virginia. He and the guys with him are going to Germany and then on to Qatar. They should be in Qatar by now. They will be there for at least 24 hours maybe more before they move on to Al Asad. He will email as soon as he has it up and running.

I will check on the house and get the mail again today. I have not heard from Carter yet but I'm sure he will call. He has his own cell phone that his mother got him. Rob and I told him to call me if he was lonely or sad. We do have sleep overs planned that we will do at Rob's house. Carter and I will also go see the new animated movies as they come out. The one we both want to see is Aliens vs Monsters.

Deployment Day 2

I went to Rob's house today and picked up the mail and just generally checked on things. When we left yesterday it was 4 in the morning and I wanted to make sure we hadn't overlooked anything. As I was looking into Carter's room it got me to thinking about how Carter was taking this deployment. For several days before Rob left Carter was telling me he was sad and not happy. More than once he cried and said he didn't want his dad to leave. I thought he had only told me but he was saying the same things to his dad. Rob had already said this was going to be his last deployment and I think that Carter's feelings helped to make him realize that his decisions were having a bigger effect than he thought. 

In the past Carter was not all that upset that Rob was leaving. I think that was because of Carter's age. Younger kids don't have a real idea of what time is or how many days 4 months or 12 months are. Carter now understands and knows that he will not see his dad again till Summer and school is out. I also think he is more aware of what is happening in Iraq and that his dad could be hurt. Several times Carter has asked about the bad guys and if dad knew how to use his rifle. I think as adults we sometimes forget just how preceptive and smart kids can be but he still only 7 years old and he has a 7 year olds fear of loss. 

I next walked into Rob's room to check on things there and as I was looking at his empty bed I started to cry. You see I have a 56 year olds fear of loss and a more active imagination and realization of what could happen. I have heard all the talk of heros and how they are doing such a great thing for the USA and the world but that is cold comfort to the 4000 parents that have seen that delegation from the base commander's office at the door. 

The house was okay and I locked things  up and left. Has anybody seen the key to my heart.

Good Times

Carter and Carol were looking at pictures of Carter at gymnastics from several years ago. Carol was saying how much Carter had liked the classes. He remembered several of the kids and the instructor from the pictures. Carter looks at Carol says,
"Good times grandma. They were some good times".
The way he said it you would have thought that he was an old man looking back 50 or more years. That boy amazes me. He is all little boy one moment and the next he is the oldest person in the room.

Children, Never Too Old To Worry About

My oldest boy is deploying with the Idaho Air National Guard this Wednesday. They will be going to Al Asad Airfield in Iraq. This is one of the largest airfields in Iraq and is a joint USAF and Marines venture. It is west of Baghdad in the Anbar Province. Partially because of its size and the number of US Forces that are assigned there it has several large swimming pools and a giant PX. It is one of the safest places in Iraq for US Forces and is sometimes referred to as "Camp Cupcake".

The reason I'm worried is they are bringing their Chemical Gear and their rifles with them. They will have to have the rifles with them while they are on duty. If this place is so safe why the weapons and Chemical Gear? I know that the number of deaths in Iraq is going down and right now Afghanastan is the more dangerous place to be but as a father that is cold comfort for me right now. At least they will be there for only 120 days.

I know that it is irrational to worry. He is 36 years old, has a Bachalor's in Psychology and a Master's in Social Work. He is a very level headed responsible person but still I will worry. I'm eating comfort food and am thinking that I should buy more photography gear. That's right I shop in times of great anxiety. So for the next four months I will try to smile and not buy too much but I will worry.

The Marketing of Carter

The other morning while getting Carter ready for school, we were watching TV. The show was a Japanese animation called Bakugan. We have watched it several times now but I must admit that I have no idea what it is about. The characters for no apparent reason have these battles with small round fighters that turn into larger warriors with hit points assigned but that can be changed with ability cards. So far there are no real rules that I can discern and no plot in what passes for the storyline. Carter can tell that I don't understand the show. He goes into his room and returns with 6 small segmented plastic balls that turn into the Bakugan warriors and he hands them to me and says "This is what it is all about grandpa. They want to make me buy these toys at the store and it is working". I wonder if the boys in marketing know that a 7 year old has figured out what they are doing. 

Cleo The Kleptomaniac Cat

Cleo has been with us for about 14 years now. Cleo is an American Short Haired cat colored in gray and black tiger stripes. She is a garbage can kitty. Our youngest son, John, found her and 4 litter mates in the garbage can behind Merritt's Cafe. John rescued them and they rode home in his leather jacket on his motorcycle. A small calico died shortly after arriving at our house. My oldest son and I took her to the vet but they said there was nothing they could do. We cried on the drive home, both of us trying to look unaffected but the tears streaming down our faces. When we got home Cleo was trying to take anything she could get her claws into and hide it behind the toilet. 

My wife and I decided that we could not keep the cats and we worked to give them away. She brought them to my work on a weekend afternoon and we showed them off. In the records office they were a big hit until Cleo had the runny poops all over one the lady's desks. It was a terrible stinky mess. No sale there. Next they went to dispatch and lucky us we were able to give two of them away but not Cleo. She didn't want to be held and she keep trying to take the dispatch cards and pens. So home she came with us and she pooped again in the car. Cleo has never taken to travel by car and gets sick every time. Would have been nice to know that. 

So Cleo ended up living with us and I must admit we have rarely thought it was a bad thing. She has more spunk and personality than just about any cat we have ever had. No Christmas tree has ever been safe. Decorations are stripped from the bottom two feet of the tree and hidden behind the toilet or in the toilet, she likes to see things float. She has stolen and hidden glasses, small cameras, wrist watches and more small items than I could ever name. O, she talked to me once. Actually she gave me some good advice in a time of need. I had nailed my thumb to my hand with an air powered nail gun. I was thinking I could drive myself to the doctor when Cleo looked up at me and said, "Don't be a fool call for help". I finally decided that if the cat was talking to me I had better do as she said.

Cleo is a little slower these days but she still has her kitten like moments. She is mad at us for getting the dogs. She can't understand why after 11 years we had to ruin things. Deep down though I think she likes the dogs. She will lick them and play with them if we aren't watching to closely. I know that her days are running out and that makes me sad. But for the time being we will let her sleep in the linen closet and feed her deli turkey. And Yeah,  I will cry like a little girl on that day.  

My Garage

As I look into my garage from the door I wonder if I will ever be able to clear it out and use it. There is clutter from one end to the other and in places it is almost floor to ceiling. Here and there are paths that lead to some of my woodworking tools but there is little room to maneuver. There are books and magazines on the shelves on the walls. Tools are in boxes and hung from pegs everywhere. There are items I'm saving for sentimental reasons and stuff that I can't understand why I saved in the first place. Before the clutter blows out the walls I need to clean house. 

I do believe that a person's garage can become a metaphor for ones life. There are memories both good and bad that we hang onto and store in our brain. There are pathways to areas that we go to all the time and the tools we need to live our lives hang in ever corner of our brain. There are half remembered and half forgotten memories everywhere. There are memories of a child's first steps and words, a lost love, a dearly remembered father or mother. That first kiss and the first heartbreak. There is also that last confrontation with the boss at work. That idiot on the way to the store and the phone solicitor that wont hang up all reside in our memories. 

So tomorrow I'm going out to my garage and I'm going to remove some of the clutter. Throw out those things that are just in the way and make me mad every time I go looking for something I need. I'm going to sort through the boxes and let go of things that just take up room. I going to get my tools out and cleaned up to use as I need them. I'm going to make a shadow box to display my father's tools that I got when he died. That way he will always be looking over my shoulder when I work on a project. I'm going to open up the area to the light so I can see what is important. And while I'm at it I'm going to take stock of my metaphorical garage and do some cleaning there too.  

Living the Slow Life

I've been retired now for 7 months and they have been great. I sleep in and do as little or as much as I want. I walk the dogs, at least when the weather is nice and warm and I have taken more pictures recently. I make dinner more days than not, okay Carol will say otherwise, and I have even started vacuuming and other housecleaning activities. You would think that with this frantic pace I would be in better shape but it pains me to say that a fast conversation leaves me winded anymore. It is amazing how the weight just sort of sneaks up on you. I have always been a large person but I have really let things get away from me lately. I know, being a diabetic, that weight is my enemy and the cornerstone of all my other health problems. Back pain, knee pain, high blood pressure and I'm sure my gray hair can all be traced back to my weight. 

The question is what can I do. I could walk the dogs further and further and maybe even walk a little faster. I could cook better healthier meals. I could spend less time at the computer. Maybe I could start going to the gym or the YMCA and use the weight room. I could and should cancel the cable TV, too much time has been spent watching the mindless drivel on the TV. I should get my bike fixed and start riding it more. I could ride it to Walgreen's to pick up my insulin and other medications instead of driving the car. I could start a vegetable garden again. I should get out my honey do list and start fixing things around the house. 

I need to start and take that first step. I know that it will be the hardest step but all trips start with that first step. I know it will take time but maybe if I work at it the next time Carter kicks my butt it wont hurt as bad. 

Just Practicing My Skills

This morning while getting ready for school I was helping Carter get dressed. I took out a pair of pants that had a belt already in the loops. As Carter was putting on the pants he took the belt off the pants.
"Carter I thought you wanted the belt on the pants?" I asked.
"I do, I just want to practice my skills" was Carter's answer.
He then put on the pants and put the belt back through all the loops and lined up the buckle. I was impressed to say the least. How often in life would we all be better served if we just practiced our skills.

The list of skills we could practice is nearly endless. How about practicing our people skills. How much better would our relationships be if we practiced listening, empathy, compassion, understanding and respect. What if we practiced what we preach. How much better would the world be if we did unto others as we would have them do unto us. If we took the rest of our lives to practice the "Golden Rule" there would be less want, less hurt, more common decency, more good deeds done and less dogma. All it takes is practicing your skills.

Good Deeds vs Pointless Protest

On the news last night there was Tammi Swindell talking about leading an anti-abortion protest on the Inaugural Parade route in Washington DC so that Obama would know that there are Americans that are against abortion. At the time I thought how pointless. Then this morning as I drove by St. Mark's Catholic Church there along the roadside were numerous small white crosses. These are supposed to represent the number of children that are aborted in Idaho and again I thought how pointless. My wife tells me that the crosses are put out by the kids in the CCD classes. This is supposed to help make the kids aware of the cost in human lives of abortion and this should stop people from having abortions.

I was adopted so believe me I'm no supporter of the death by abortion method of birth control that pro-choice people expound upon but I'm also not a blind supporter of the pro-life side. My problem with them is they are just supporters of a position and rarely back up their talk with good deeds. Where are these people when a young girl says she needs help. Are they there with prenatal medical help? Are they there with help setting up an adoption? Are they there helping support a home for unwed pregnant girls? Are they there helping at the Children's Home for orphans? Are they there with the mental health consoling these girls will need? Are they there helping with daycare and diapers and formula and clothes and any of the hundreds of things that babies need or they just screaming at young confused girls while holding onto their bibles.

I guess that holding a protest sign or pounding crosses into the ground is okay if that is all you can really do to help but I thought God wanted His followers to be known by their deeds rather than their words. If your idea of helping is getting your face on TV then have at it but don't be confused your not helping.

Now That I'm Older

When I was in high school and college the idea of writing a journal was a very difficult one for me. I thought that I had nothing to say or at least anything that someone else wanted to hear. So my journal entries were short and mostly irrelevant. Letter writing was another thing that I found difficult. At least twice while I was in Europe with the USAF I was contacted by the Red Cross and told to write home. I felt that I had done nothing of note and that nobody cared what I had to say or observed.

The idea of writing in a blog would have been beyond imagination for me. The idea of sharing with total strangers would have paralyzed me. As the years have gone by I have begun to find my voice and overcome the paralysis of the unknown. I think it is partly due to the anonymity of the blogoshere and world wide web. Mostly, though, I think my age and the fact that I'm more comfortable in who I am and what I have become has given me a voice. If you like what I say, great. If you find me irrelevant, fine. Its not that I don't care its just that I now realize its okay if you find me irrelevant.

Now I blog, I'm in Facebook and on Twitter. I write comments on BBC news stories. I send comments to Rick Sanchez and the Cafferty File on CNN. When I do a Google search on my name I actually show up. It has been freeing and it is exhilarating to have become a part of a bigger world.

The State of the State

I listened to Governor Otter today give his State of the State address and was both impressed and shocked at what he thinks needs to be done to keep the State solvent. I liked the fact that the cuts varied by department but Health and Welfare was already woefully underfunded so the 7% cut there is really going to hurt. I have always believed that government exists to help those that are least able to help themselves. These people also have the weakest voice so it is understandable that Otter would cut their funding because the people hurt are the least able to speak up. The work loads for Child Protective Services are already at levels that boggle the imagination and Otter is gambling with the lives of children that nothing happens. The delivery of health services to these same children is among the lowest in the nation and those will be cut too. Is this what Otter and the Republicans mean by "Idaho Family Values".

The governor then spoke to the needs of transportation and the infrastructure of the State. The roads in Idaho have been in trouble for years and the legislature has done nothing because of the costs. They have always said that their constituents didn't want their taxes raised to fix roads on the other side of the state. So the roads have just gotten worse. The governor wants to raise the gasoline taxes at the pump and then hit us again when we register our vehicles. He uses the specious argument that the gas tax was last raised in 1996 so we are trying to meet 2009 needs with 1996 money. Using that argument then taxes and fees should raise every year. If last Summer and the $4 plus gas taught us anything it was that as the price goes up past $3.50 a gallon people will use less and less gas. So there goes his extra money. Otter sounds just lie a tax and spend Democrat on this issue.

The only good thing out of all this is there will be a statewide discussion about priorities. Hopefully those without a voice will find someone in the legislature to speak out for them. At least Idaho is not in as bad a shape as California.

Sick Dog

Harriet, the younger of my two Corgi's, has been throw up sick for the last three days. She was unable to keep anything down, food or water. Yesterday I took her to the vet in the morning after she threw up for the 6th time. $132 later I knew that she was sick and throwing up but vet was not sure why. Could be that she had a fever of 103 instead of normal temperature of 101, could be she ate something she should not have eaten. Could be she had an intestinal blockage. The real problem was other than throwing up she had no other signs or symptoms. So they shot her full of water under her skin, gave her vitamin B and antibiotics and home we went. She threw up again that afternoon so back to the vet. Another $132 and we now had x-rays and knew there was nothing metal in her stomach. More water under the skin, more vitamin B and more pills to control the vomiting. No food or water until this morning but call vet before feeding.

This morning we called the vet and are now giving her just small amounts of water and if she holds that down, which she has, we can give her several teaspoons of a very bland canned food the vet gave me yesterday. The vet has called me twice so far to see how she is doing. My doctor never calls to see how I'm doing but then the vet charges more than my doctor. Maybe the vet's calling back so often shows just how concerned we are with our pets. We do place a very high value on our dogs and cats. I think that having something that is totally dependent on you for its well being in some odd way helps us relive our child rearing days and fills that void in our life. I'm watching Harriet as closely as I ever watched our two boys when they were sick and on a certain level I'm as concerned for her as I ever was for the boys. Don't tell the boys they already think its creepy when I say the dogs are my kids.

Happy New Year

My wife and I actually went to a New Year's Eve Party. Neither of us could remember the last time we went to an all adult party. We had a good time even though they were my wife's co-workers. We ate, we drank and we played Rock Band. It was all fun that is until I had to sing. The song was Roxanne by the Police. You make points by singing the words at the right time with right inflection but not necessarily the right tone. Anyone who knows me knows I have a 3 or 4 note range in a totally unknown register. It was terrible and even the game thought so as it shut us down when we had done only about 60% of the song. 

The next assignment I got was the bass guitar. With that I had a better time and score. At least I could hit the notes at the right time. Combinations if simple were doable but fancy fret work was beyond me. Then I played the drums. I was so bad. I got to laughing so hard I fell off the chair. I'm no Ringo Starr but it was fun. I really need to take some lessons from my grandson. At least Carter has rhythm and the needed technique to be a drummer. But it was fun and now Carol thinks we should get the game and have some more fun.... Roxxxxxxanne   You don't have to put on that Red dress.........Roxxxxxxanne.. I think I can do with just a little more practice.