Contact Light 2009

[If all goes well, a slightly different version of this newsletter will accompany our year-end cards]

Contact Light 2009
A Blackberry House Production by John M. Burt, 960 SW Jefferson Avenue, Corvallis, Oregon 97333 USA
john_m_burt@hotmail.com // katheburt@hotmail.com // burtfamily@live.com // john_m_burt.blogspot.com // thesweater.blogspot.com // johnandkathe.blogspot.com //

It's been a pretty good year, over-all. We're living together and having fun, in a variety of ways. Kathe continues to work as a process server. John continues to work as a caregiver and massage therapist, and hopes soon to be working as a phlebotomist (that's the person who draws your blood when the doctor sends you to the lab for a test). He took the course and passed with outstanding grades, but hasn't yet landed a job. We are continuing to work on one of our long-term project, the Coffee Shack Book, a task which is made easier by Kathe's job, which allows scouting the entire mid-valley area for new coffee shacks, and also allows John to ride along when he's not otherwise occupied,

Our son Walden and our grandson Richard Loy Gentry are both living in Corvallis. We don't see a lot of Walden and even less of Dick, but they both seem to be doing well.
Our daughter Asnakech is living in Portland. Our daughter Mestowet is living in Georgia near Atlanta. There is more we could say about family matters but...they are family matters. Here and now, let it be enough to say that there are other people we hold in our hearts, also.

We have no pets unless you count the elderly cat we feed in the shed. We inherited her from a former neighbor, and I don't think of her so much a pet as a feral animal we feel sorry for. It's hard not to, looking at her. She's more or less friendly and appreciative, but she will never be a house cat. Last winter she disappeared for several days and returned minus her tail. We think maybe the local raccoon ate it.

John's father remains in poor health, but his mother looks after him diligently and with energy. John helps out a lot, and is grateful for the opportunity.

As always, we continue to work on the house. And, as always, it is not finished. The roof, foundation and exterior walls are sound, though and those are the most important parts.

The community art theme for da Vinci Days this year was fish. We disdained the precut fish patterns the organizers offered, opting instead for our usual contribution, a collage, assembled on our usual schedule, atthelastminute. We've done worse. http://www.davinci-days.org/

After years of hearing compliments on our "signature" sweaters, and telling people as much of the backstory as they would hold still for, we decided we needed to have cards printed up telling the tale. We still don't have the cards, but at least we can give them the Web address of the sweaters' blog: http://thesweater.blogspot.com

We are so sorry we missed the chance to pick up the "Rude Hippy" story from Craigslist; it would have been an excellent addition to the sweater blog.

Oh, you haven't heard it?

Apparently, we offended someone by not talking to them long enough when they commented on the sweater (there was just one, until last year), and they posted on the Craigslist rant page. A wonderful rant, about how we were probably liberals, and self-centered, like all liberals, and didn't have time to be polite to someone who stopped us on the street to comment on the sweater (described as "technicolor barf"), and besides, I was too thin and John was too fat, and so on and on. Probably they said "That's an ugly sweater" and we replied, "Sorry you don't like it," and walked on, entirely unaware that they wanted us to stay around for further derision. Rude us. Actually, the community appreciation seems to be picking up.

We didn't really observe Christmas this year, but we did mark New Year's with, among other things, a new digital camera, with which we took the attached photo.

Well, here's hoping next year will be even better. Especially that health-care thing.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Take a cup of kindness."\\

Fried Noodles and Fudge

Kathe and I went to the Mongolian Grill last night, a rare enough outing for us to be worth mentioning. We had a coupon, made sure the tip was calculated according to the full price rather than the discounted, ate lots of noodles and veggies and meat, and had a good time.

When we got home, we found that our son Walden had come by and left us some of his latest batch of fudge. It was good.

The fudge was wrapped in aluminum foil marked NOM NOMS, so I sent him a text saying, "Thx 4 da noms kthxbaignite." He replied, "Youve been spending too much time in the tubes."

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "hes probly rite u kno"\\

From John to Kathe, With Love

We Can't Find Our Christmas Card List

So if you are expecting (or would like to get) a card from us, please e-mail us at burtfamily@live.com and give us your current address.

My Bookmarks, As of December 2009 (Part 4)

Category: Funny Things
http://www.4chan.org/
http://www.amptoons.com/blog/
http://www.badscience.net/
http://drmcninja.com/
http://emailsfromcrazypeople.com/
http://beatonna.livejournal.com/
http://questionablecontent.net/
http://wondermark.com/
http://xkcd.com/
http://myrightwingdad.blogspot.com/

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "'Funny' is a matter of taste, I suppose...."\\

My Bookmarks, As of December 2009 (Part 3)

Category: Fantasy, Science fiction, Comics Books, Movies, &c.
http://www.asofterworld.com/
http://c.urvy.org/?date=20080329
http://www.darkhorse.com/
http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/comic.php
http://girl-wonder.org/
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HomePage
http://io9.com/
http://www.misterkitty.org/
http://www.bigredhair.com/
http://pinktentacle.com/
http://precur.wordpress.com/
http://nosmokingintheskullcave.blogspot.com/
http://superdickery.com/
http://hoodedutilitarian.blogspot.com/
http://www.therobotspajamas.com/
http://www.thewaythefutureblogs.com/
http://warren-ellis.livejournal.com/
http://www.webcomicsnation.com/
http://luchins.com/
http://www.strangehorizons.com/
http://superfuturefriends.blogspot.com/
http://www.tor.com/
http://www.plaidstallions.com/
http://www.robmacdougall.org/
http://supergee.livejournal.com/

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Just how long is this list of yours, John?"\\

My Bookmarks, As of December 2009 (Part 2)

Blogs
http://nielsenhayden.com/makinglight/
http://myrightwingdad.blogspot.com/
http://obsidianwings.blogs.com/
http://www.oliverwillis.com/
http://dneiwert.blogspot.com/
http://www.pamshouseblend.com/
http://pandagon.net/
http://scienceblogs.com/pharyngula/
http://punkassblog.com/
http://www.sadlyno.com/
http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/SavageLove?oid=2017620
http://whatever.scalzi.com/
http://shakespearessister.blogspot.com/
http://www.strangehorizons.com/
http://susiemadrak.com/
http://portlytruestories.blogspot.com/
http://www.theagitator.com/
http://thisislikesogay.blogspot.com/
http://www.weareallbadgers.com/index2.htm
http://wikileaks.org/
http://zeldalily.com/

I notice that some of these links are in the wrong folders. I must do something about that one of these days....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "What, there's more?"\\

My Bookmarks, As of December 2009 (Part 1)

Audio
http://www.620kpoj.com/main.html
http://www.opb.org/radio/
http://www.otr.net/
http://www.youtube.com/
Blogs
http://acephalous.typepad.com/
http://alicublog.blogspot.com/
http://theangryblackwoman.com/
http://supergee.livejournal.com/
http://www.balloon-juice.com/
http://bitchphd.blogspot.com/
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/
http://www.cogitamusblog.com/
http://crookedtimber.org/
http://echidneofthesnakes.blogspot.com/
http://science-professor.blogspot.com/
http://www.feministe.us/blog/
http://www.feministing.com/
http://frugalfag.com/
http://hecatedemetersdatter.blogspot.com/
http://hugoschwyzer.net/
http://digbysblog.blogspot.com/
http://joemygod.blogspot.com/
http://kateharding.net/
http://konagod.blogspot.com/
http://languagelog.ldc.upenn.edu/nll/
http://lefarkins.blogspot.com/
http://www.miamiherald.com/leonard_pitts/
http://majikthise.typepad.com/

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Don't you have anything better to do?"\\

Sunday Go To Meetin'

I went to the Quaker Meeting this morning, which I used to do regularly, and have been trying recently to start doing again, with limited success.

I am really glad that I was there today, though, because one of the members said something that I really needed to hear:

He said something to the effect that Quakers talk a lot about the Light Within, but that he was much more concerned with the Light that forms between people, if they allow it to. He said this was one of the most precious, even miraculous aspects of being human, and tragically all too vulnerable. By comparison with the vulnerability of human relations, the Light Within is relatively easy to nurture and to heal.

As I said, that was something I needed to hear.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Thank you, John".\\

Home Again

But we will be going back to Portland again next weekend.

Why will we be going back to Portland? Go ask the Magic eight-Ball.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Reply Hazy, Perhaps Because of Embarrassment."\\

At the Montavilla Motel

In Portland to take care of various errands and see various people, will be returning to Corvallis, probably late, staying tonight at the Montavilla Motel, one of Kathe's favorites.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Hurry back."\\

Things They Sell At The End of the Aisle

Things like inflatable tongues,
mustard-squirting mouths,
ketchup-squirting nostrils
and toothpaste-squirting dogs.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Goodness me."\\

John and Kathe's Blog

Come to our new joint blog, especially if you're one of our favorite people.

But really, even if you're not.

And our circle of favorite people is actually wider than you might think.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You don't have to like someone for them to like you."\\

Strange Days

But then they are all strange these days. Just had a big mouthful of very comfortable but still disturbing work done at Sunset Dental. I suppose the phenomenon of giving more attention to pains and fears past is one of the hallmarks of trauma, and that was definitely the case for me just now. But I already knew I was working my way through a great deal of trauma.

Sitting in the Creekside coffee shop around the corner from the dentist's, cautiously sipping mildly warm mocha through a straw, my clever upper lip compensating for the lack of active support from my squashy lower lip. waiting for Kathe to give my doped-up self a ride home.

Still thinking about the trauma aspect of dentistry. I can tell that a lot of the anxiety and trepidation I feel as dental work approaches is compounded of long-ago dental work, as well as other medical procedures, my fear of being out of control while someone else decides what to do with my body, my shame and fear at the condition of my body, and so forth. Lots of issues.

It helps that I am better now at recognizing all of these things, and recognizing them as separate things tht I can deal with individually. That does help, some.

I look forward to my wife's arrival and a safe ride home, but I also relish this private time, this isloation here at a coffee shop where I not only don't have anything I should rush off and do, but am under doctor's orders not to try to walk home, much less drive, on my own. It's kind of cozy sitting here like this in this peculiar state of isolation, not unlike the way I feel when I am up in my imaginary lookout tower.

I should spend more time up there.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Don't forget, the rent is due on that thing."\\

Agricultural Equipment, Some Made from LEGOs

Kathe and I went to the Ag Expo at the Linn County fairgrounds. We really liked the LEGO farm equipment.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Sounhds like fun."\\

News From Asnakech and Tesfaye

Good news, as it happens: He is staying with her in Portland, clean and sober and not endangering her lease.
It's been awhile since we'd heard anything at all about him, so this is very good news indeed.
Hang in there, Tes.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Take very good care,"\\

Ghost Buicks in the Sky

Driving down Interstate 5 to Springfield for my phlebotomy class, I saw something truly marvelous: a small plane was coming in to land at the Eugene airport, dropping down through low-hanging clouds into almost-clear air. Its twin headlamps lit up the fog in front of them, sending out long beams that were visible from the ground.

I have seen planes of all sizes coming in to land, but never one that looked quite so much like a phantom automobile.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Driver, change your ways, or...."\\

My Father Is Not The Man He Used to Be

But then, who is?

There was a time when, if I heard that my father no longer enjoyed reading science fiction, that he now found bizarre images and concepts disturbing, I would have said that this man simply couldn't be my father. But I have learned to be more tolerant of the idea that people do change, and not always for the worse. Or anyway, not entirely for the worse.

The other day, I sat with him while Mom was out with her sister, and he stared out the window at the clouds. I had noticed him commenting on clouds quite often lately, but hadn't really paid it much attention. But as I listened to his continued and attentive description of the clouds as they rolled by, I understood that he had an appreciation for the patterns they formed and re-formed which most people never have the patience to develop.

It reminded me, in fact, of a scene I had read in a story years ago, in which a man sees what the reader is clearly meant to recognize as the Beatific Vision, although the culture he comes from doesn't have that concept. The man was entranced by the ever-changing image (which, again, the reader will understand better than the character, because his culture also doesn't have the technology to create false-color images of the photosphere of the Sun), but eventually becomes just a tiny bit bored. It is a tribute to the writer's skill that it is clear that the fault lies with the viewer and not with the vision -- if his mind were better prepared, it is implied, he would be content to gaze upon that ever-changing sight eternally.

So, in spite of the pain and tragedy of my father's decline, and in spite of the inconvenience and heartache that the entire family is feeling, there are some bright spots, good experiences that he could not have had otherwise. No, it doesn't make up for what he has lost, not even close. But he is as he is, and things are as they are, and the wise thing to do is to take things as we find them and appreciate the good things when we see them.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Once a man was being chased through a forest by a tiger, and scrambled up a sheer cliff to try to escape. As he reached the top, he saw above him a second tiger. He looked at the tiger above him, and the tiger below him, and then he felt the root he was clinging to begin to give way. Then he looked to his right and saw, clinging to the cliff, a strawberry bush, with a single ripe strawberry growing on it. He reached out and picked the berry and ate it, and said, 'Oh. That's delicious'."\\

Nora Ree Gror?

When my father and his siblings were little, they invented their own language, or anyway their own vocabulary (the grammar was, AIUI, German, as were any words they needed to complete a sentence which they hadn't made up), as well as a history for the country where it was spoken, the prehistoric civilization of Gror, which perished in a terrible war with the Rontrunes.

Anyway, the other day I saw an e-mail from my aunt Anne, and figured it was high time that Grorian had its presence online, no matter how small it might be.

Arseela: Fascist
Baen: No
Banya: To hate
Geen: to engage in reproductive activity
Gern Vasha: to like (Grordeutsch corruption)
Glind: Genius
Gnool: Mother
Grorian: An extinct civilzation
Ir: Yes
Lehr: Red
Na: Me
Naesor: to be
Ngosee: George Burt
Niklava: New
Nora: to like or desire
Nosan: to kill
Nosan ree: Go kill yourself
Ree: You
Ree naesor slorn: You are an idiot
Reesan: Communist
Rezh: Father
Rontrune: Cornishman
Sheel: Mother
Shula: Light
Slorn: Idiot
Vasha: to have

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Nora ree geen?"\\

We Aren't Going to OryCon

Kathe and I went to last year's OryCon, but various circumstances have led us to decide not to go.

Sometime before the end of the year, we expect to visit Portland, though, and see some people, and like that.

Just no OryCon. Oh, well.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Do what you can and leave the rest."\\

I Don't Blog About Work

I have worked as a massage therapist since 1985, with more or less success. To supplement my income, I have also worked as a nurse's aide, and I am currently training as a phlebotomist.

The most hours of work I do, and the most money I earn, are both under the auspices of Home Care and Elder Services, giving in-home care to the elderly and the incapacitated. I really appreciate the honesty and consideration I have received over the years from Kathy, Deborah, Anna and now Tia.

There are often times I would like to make a post about an interaction I've had with one of the office staff, or one of my fellow caregivers, or a client. These are all things that really would not be embarrassing or invade anyone's privacy or betray any secrets. But if I started doing that, sooner or later I would inadvertantly post something I shouldn't. And even if I never did, the staff or the clients who knew I was blogging would wonder if I might.

So I just don't blog about work, or anyhow not in that way.

But it's not because I am ashamed of my work, or find it boring, and not because I don't appreciate the people I work with. Quite the contrary, I am trying to spare them worry and possible embarrassment.

And anyway, work is hardly the only aspect of my life that I don't write about here.

//The Magic Eight-Ball sasy, "Walk with caution."\\

Last Friday

Kathe and I went to the Old World Center to see the annual Halloween performance by the Corvallis Belly Dance Performance Guild. As usual, the dancers were skillful and (mostly) well-practiced, and as in previous years, their Halloween-themed costumes and routines were impressive and/or amusing.
I ran into someone I wasn't expecting to see, didn't know she was a belly dancer. It was a bit odd to see her in such a different setting, and very differently dressed. But that's Corvallis for you.
Anyway, we had a good time. We don't have enough of those lately.
Maybe we'll go to more of their Wednesday night performances, the way we used to.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You will have a good time."\\

Remember the Dead

[Recycled from 09:54, 31 October 2004, and from 31 October 2005, and 2006]

This evening, we will be giving out what we usually give on Halloween: a plastic bag containing a comic book, a small toy, a piece or two of candy, and this card:

Remember the Dead

This is the night when the ancestors return to receive the hospitality of the living.

If we show them proper courtesy, with gifts and food, we will have their blessing through the coming year. As long as we honor the dead, they remain with us. Of coruse, if we fail to welcome them with proper courtesy, things may not go so well . . . especially tonight.

It is all too easy to ignore death and pretend it doesn't happen. But hiding from our fear will only make it greater. Better to choose a time to face our mortality -- and defy it.

So to memorialize the departed, and to confront our own fear of death, throw wide your doors tonight, and heed well the words of the evening's honored visitors:

"Trick or Treat!"

//The Magic 8-Ball says, "Have a mini-Snickers, Grandpa."\\

War of the Worlds

[Recycled from 11:57, 30 October 2004, and from 30 October 2005]

Not nearly enough people saw the excellent film The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai: Across the 8th Dimension, but those who did were treated to Buck's stunned realization that all of the members of the conspiracy he had uncovered had registered for Social Security cards in Grover's Mill, New Jersey, on November 1st, 1938 -- the day after the supposed "Martian invasion" hoax!

I sat there in the theater, thinking, "That's not right -- although Orson Welles' War of the Worlds broadcast was intended as a Halloween fright, it actually went out on October 30th, the regularly scheduled night for the Mercury Radio Theater show. But since that was a Saturday show, November 1st would have been the next business day, so he's right after all."

My next thought was, "Good grief, I know all that stuff!"

What can I say? I'm very fond of the story, both the novel and the radio show. One of my great pleasures over the years has been tuning in repeats of the original broacast every Halloween. Alas, radio stations are now a bit reluctant to put voices on the air decribing the devastation of New York -- one more thing to tax Osama bin Laden with -- but the tapes are still there, and so is the book (the 1953 film and the 1987 TV series I never cared for all that much).

[Update, 2005: Twisting the dial on Halloween this year, I brought in part of a CBC broadcast of the Martian invasion of Ontario -- what fun! I also didn't think much of the 2004 Spielberg film, I'm afraid.]

[Update, 2014: Someone challenged me, and I find I was wrong: the Mercury Theater was a Sunday show, so October 31st was a Monday, and that would have been the proper date for immediately registering for a Social Security card.  http://www.timeanddate.com/calendar/?year=1938]

//The Magic 8-Ball says, "Across the gulfs of space, intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic regarded our Earth with envious eyes and slowly, surely, drew their plans against us . . . ."\\

George and Dorothy's 50th Anniversary

This is a photograph of my parents, George and Dorothy Burt, on their wedding day, October 21st, 1959. When they observed their 50th wedding anniversary today, Kathe and I brought a print of this photo, with a story written by Kathe superimposed over it. That story is below.

The Love that Never Gave Up


There was a boy whose Father was very Old, and as he grew older himself, he resolved that he would never be an Old Father, because it wasn't much fun for the son, and it couldn't have been much fun for the father either.

So as he grew up, he made plans. First, he must make a place for himself in the World. He must find good and rewarding Work, and then he could marry and start a Family. So he went to College, where he expected to learn many things and find something he would like to do for his Work

He found it very difficult, and he had to leave the College. He next tried the Air Force, but it didn't agree with him, or he with it, so he returned to College. It was hard, but he Didn't Give Up. He tried, and again he tried, and he got his Degree. About this time, he decided that he was well-enough along the way to his Work that he could marry, and start to be a Young Father.

But that did not work out well. He and his wife soon parted. But he Did Not Give Up on marriage either. He met another young woman, one who was well-familiar with Not Giving Up. Her parents had been refugees, people without a home. They were so poor that the famous Church Mice were richer than they (at least the Church Mice had a roof over their heads). But they Did Not Give Up, and gradually they became successful, and they raised a large family of boys and girls who Never Gave Up.

Although the man and his new wife started a Family very soon, the man found that to do his Work, he needed more Degrees. So he returned to College again. Again he found it hard. And now it was very hard, for he and his wife had several small boys to take care of, as well as the studying that was necessary to obtain the Degrees. But the man and his wife Did Not Give Up.

In the fullness of time, the man gained his Degrees, and found his Work, and he and his wife raised three happy, healthy boys, and later they had many Adventures.

And when the man was Very Old, and his wife was almost as Old, they looked back at their life together, and saw that it had been very good, and that they had children who were happy in their Work, and grandchildren who were happy and healthy.

And it was all because of the Love that Never Gave Up.


But why do you say that it was the Love, that Never Gave Up?

What was it, my children, but the Love? The Love this man had for his children long before they were born, that he was determined that they should have a better life than he, and that they should have what he had always wanted, a Young Father. That Love Never Gave Up, and it accomplished a Fine Thing Indeed.

All of us will pass from this earth, and our places will be taken by others, but what better thing can people say of us, when we are gone, than that our lives were driven by Love?

[I couldn't simply post the image itself because it is a .pdf, which Blogger won't support]

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Go ahead, make me scrye."\\

Phlebotomy Resources

These are sites that might be of use to phlebotomy students, placed here for the convenience of my classmates.

Miscellaneous Resources



http://library.med.utah.edu/WebPath/TUTORIAL/PHLEB/PHLEB.html



http://www.accd.edu/sac/nursing/r2201/pedsg/heelsticks.htm


http://www.austincc.edu/mlt/phb/phb_links.html



http://www.plcofdenver.com/html/general.html



http://www.phlebotomypages.com/phlebotomy_resources.htm



http://www.ehow.com/way_5207554_phlebotomy-tutorial.html



Educational Videos



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yS2iOF7AGo



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRqxy_2g0NQ



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ecu2ZewPoNM



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kJHGzQXerSc



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERu0vjDEVDw

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Look and see for yourself."\\

A Gathering of Willamette Valley Poets

Kathe and I attended an event called "A Gathering of Willamette Valley Poets", part of Oregon Poetry Month, at the invitation of our friend Lana, whom we met by shopping at the bead store where she works.

At the event, we heard Lana join a group in a charming humorous recitation, and heard some other friends of longer standing read their works, as well as a number of people we didn't know.

It was fun. I wish more people had been there. I wish Kathe and I did things like that more often. Well, if we cultivate the habit, liekly we will.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Practice what you want more of."\\

Going To Phlebotomy School

Well, as Moses said when he stood before the Red Sea and raised his hands, I sure hope this works.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "May Hermes guide your hand."\\

Flag This Entry

The other day, Kathe and I were out delivering papers (that is, Kathe was delivering legal papers, and I was riding along), and we passed a lot full of waving flags.

Now, as it happens, I have long had a special fondness for the so-called Fort Moultrie flag:



"So-called" because the current consensus of opinion is that what actually flew over Fort Moultrie during the American Revolution was something more like this:



The display was flying the latter, but when we stopped and I asked about the former, the owner confirmed that he had that one, too.

So today we are flying the Fort Moultrie flag on our porch, where it will join the rotation with the Stars and Stripes and the U.S. Peace flag:



Next on our list, when we can afford it, is the Earth-from-space flag:



//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Remember that the symbol is not the object."\\

No Self-Serve In Oregon

Thanks to which, we don't have to put up with things like this:



//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Count your blessings."\\

Opening Night of Twelfth Night

Kathe and I went up to the OSU campus to see Bard in the Quad's first performance of Twelfth Night.

We both enjoyed it, in spite of Kathe's feeling poorly.

//The Magic Eight Ball says, "You could do worse on a Summer night."\\

Happy Birthday, Lana

Lasy night, Kathe and I went to the birthday party of Lana, whom we met awhile back at her DayDreamers bead store I had to leave early and missed the live entertainment, but Kathe says it was pretty impressive.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Do what you have to do."\\

Jake and Claire Are Here

It is good to have Kathe's eldest son and his wife here, and not just because Jake works like a yeoman of Trojan extraction when he gets up on the roof, and not just because Claire does all the cooking and makes me glad she does.

I wish we saw more of all of the kids. I wish we saw the existence of more grandchildren. Grump. grump....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "If you keep talking like an old man, your knees will never stop hurting."\\

Call That A Solstice?

The Northern Hemisphere's Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, the day when the Sun rises highest in the sky, is not usually the hottest day of the year in Oregon (that is more often sometime in late July or early August), but you sure don't expect it to be so cold that a homeless person comes to your door and asks for a blanket.

But that's what happened tonight.

Fortunately, one of the reasons Kathe opted for a fixed dwelling place was so that she would have space to store things like extra blankets and food for those who did not, and she went right upstairs and fetched one.

You do what you can, by Golly, you do what you can.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says: "Sometimes even the Solstice will let you down."\\

An Enjoyable Night Out

Kathe and I went out last night, inspired by a flyer from Basic Rights Oregon that advised us that if we dined at any of the listed establishments, the owners would make a contribution to BRO.

Hey, why not?

By the time we haukled our lazy butts out of the house our first choice, the Red Horse coffee shop, was closed, so we moved further downtown to the Old World Center, had beef barley soup, a sandwich and sodas.

We had a good time, with good food, and enjoyed the live music.

Nothing special, just a pleasant evening downtown.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Nothing wrong with that."\\

Lucy

Julian Lennon has gotten back in touch with his childhood friend Lucy Vodden, whom he once depicted in a drawing as "Lucy in the sky with diamonds". Alas, Lucy, now 46, is suffering from lupus.

Alas, indeed, but people do get sick, become crippled and die, often at a heartbreakingly early age.

Lennon has his associations with the song. I have my own Lucy.

I'm not sure why I associated my stepdaughter Rebecca with Lucy, but by now the connection is too strong to ever be broken: Becca is my Lucy. I miss her so much since she died of cancer.

Kathe misses her more, of course. And she has her own associations for Becca, her own ways of remembering her.

And in the end, of course, she is neither my Becca nor Kathe's. Her life and her death were her own business, and we should not fetishize her memory.

But the people who loved her, and love her, and always will, can still remember her, each in our own way.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "We can hardly avoid it."\\

Happy Birthday, Maurice Sendak

Thank you for everything.

But especially for Where the Wild Things Are.

Because every child (but perhaps especially a boy who has strange thoughts and passions) needs to know that it is okay to be wild once in awhile, and your mother will still love you.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "And it was still hot."\\

Bleeding

Donating blood, I must be due to donate again, mustn't I?

What, it's been nine months? For shame!

Well, get on down to St. Mary's and make a donation.

Kind of a long delay. Really should have made an appointment. Never have, though.

Ouch. Sometimes the needle slides right in, and sometimes it flippin' hurts.

Ouch. Pain subsiding some, but still hurts something awful. Ouch.

Oh, well. Still needed to do that. People need the blood.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Sometimes doing the right thing is painful."\\

Neon Gypsies at the Vibe

Kathe and I went down to the Vibe coffee shop last night to hear the Neon Gypsies play. We liked their music and we thought they looked awfully good playing, too -- and that was even before we found out that the drummer who looked like she was enjoying herself so much was Rose Cheyne, the daughter of an old friend of ours.

Go, Rosie -- try not to explode.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "People just explode, you know. It happens."\\

Life Among the Organelles

The other day, Kathe and I entered the long-shuttered Whiteside Theater and joined a small group who were learning (on the job) how to rerstore the Wurlitzer pipe organ that one day will again delight patrons of the Whiteside with its music.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Yo, play the Tocatta and Fugue in D Minor!"\\

The Genocide Appropriation Project

As members of the Genocide Appropriation Project, our goal is to appropriate images of the Nazi Holocaust and other historic crimes and use them to dress up our political or cultural cause du jour.

We find it easy and convenient to exploit the suffering of other people in order to persuade the ignorant, and to shock those who oppose us into silence.

The Genocide Appropriation Project is not a membership organization. We count as members of the GAP any person who has ever used a specious analogy to promote their own agenda. For instance. we are very proud to associate ourselves with former President Ronald Reagan, for his famous declaration (in front of an African American group, no less) that marijuana smoking was "Twentieth Century slavery".

So, if you are having a hard time getting people to listen to your eleventy-twelfth repetition of your opinion on some subject, just call muster on the unquiet dead of the long and bloody history of our species, preferably invoking a crime committed against a group which does not include your own ancestors (or even committed by a group who are your ancestors). You're sure to win lots of friends, even if it's only among your fellow Appropriationists.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Patience, like genius and unlike stupidity, has its limits."\\

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's day to all mothers.

To mothers who have raised their children.
To mothers who are raising their children.
To mothers who have children who are far away in a war zone.
To mothers who are far from their children on account of being themselves in a war zone.
To mothers who have to put their children to bed every night in a war zone.
To loving mothers.
To mothers who find they don't love their children, but do their best by them anyway.
To mothers who suffer from postpartum depression.
To mothers who are too sick to look after their children.
To adoptive mothers.
To birth mothers.
To stepmothers.
To divorced mothers.
To non-custodial mothers.
To mothers who hate the fathers of their children, but never criticize them in front of the children.
To single mothers.
To lesbian mothers.
To men who do the Mommy work, not just once in awhile but day after day as their children grow up.
To mothers who are forced to work all day and see their children only in glimpses as they grow up.
But perhaps most of all, to mothers who have lost a child.
Or two.
Or three.
It may seem inappropriate to wish them joy on this day, and yet I can only hope that it finds them, today, or someday.
Happy Mother's Day.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "God bless you all."\\

Westphalolgy

My cousin Raymond Westphal has created Westphalogy a really nifty site for posting family pictures.

I recommend it to all Westphals and Burts, as well as selected Botteros and so on.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Everybody is related to everybody else, eventually."\\

Car Names

We usually have more than one car, so we usually give them names, although they are often as basic as "the Mazda", "the yellow Bug", &c. Still, names.

One of my favorites (as a vehicle and as a named object) was the blue and white VW bus that I called "the Scarabaeus". I drove the kids around in it, back when we had kids, and often referred to it by that name. Can't recall whether anyone else ever used that name, but I did.

Right now we have a Dodge minivan ("the Dodge") and a Ford van ("the Ford" or "the big van"). My uncle Wesley's Isuzu ("the Isuzu") has just died, so we're buying a 1991 Ford Escort.

We have been starting to refer to it as "the little Ford", but considering how fond it is of beeping every time you open the doors, it occurred to me today to start calling it "Sputnik".

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Treat inanimate objects as though they had feelings and you will treat them with more care, and they will perform better. Besides, perhaps they do."\\

Pirates Who Talk Like Somalis

Somali pirates seized yet another cargo ship in the Indian Ocean, but this time the crew successfully fought back.

The difference being that the crew of this ship were merchant seamen.

Proving, once again, that if you want a job done right, hire union labor.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Acta non verba"\\

Goo-Goo vs. Boo-Goo

By tradition, though not by any known rules of grammar, "Goo-Goo" is short for "good government", referring to legislation which is hoped to have the effect of making the government do a better job of serving the people, and more importantly, showing the public that the legislators are busy making the government be good.

It occurs to me today that there is also such a thing as "bad government" legislation, which is intended to show the public that the legislators are aware that the government is bad and must be punished.

"Boo-Goo" laws are produced from both left and right. Conservatives' favorite Boo-Goo is tax cuts, but another classic example is the Freedom of Information Act.

Frequently, Boo-Goo measures are also Goo-Goo -- see FOIA above. And frequently they actually have good effects (ditto). But let's not kid ourselves that such laws are ever entirely written to serve the public interest.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Who watches the watchmen?"\\

Plugged My Ears Again

I took out my three earrings before my brain surgery in November of 2007 and never got around to putting them* back in, until yesterday**.

* Actually, I have three holes (because one is for wimps and two is for girls), but one of them seems to have closed.

** Actually, I have just one in, because one of them seems to have disappeared during the night. Oh, well, they were only 75c each.

In other news, my father is continuing to recover, and I have switched from nights to afternoons, leaving him to handle the nights for himself.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I won't tell them that you initially forgot to mention how your father is doing."\\

They Just...Cut It

The other night, Dad slept all night, and therefore I got to also. There was a nice La-Z-Boy recliner in the room, and I moved it alongside the bed and it was quite a pleasant night, all things considered. The recliner was quite easy on my poor injured back .

No such luck any longer. Apparently the staff at the nursing home objected to someone actually sitting in one of their recliners, so during the day someone went through the facility and cut the power cords for all the chairs.

Just...cut them.

Weird.

I think so, anyway.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I think so, too."\\

George Burt's Recovery Continues

Slow, slowly, but we will get there.

It's hard. Thanks to prior demands on my energy I am worn away to a frazzle and Mom is not far behind. She is taking a class to become a census worker (2010 isn't far off, after all), I suspect for the sake of having something else to do.

But Dad is getting better, and I expect he will be able to go home before too much longer.

I sure hope so, anyway.

//The Magic Eight Ball says, "Hang in there."\\

George Burt is Recovering

Dad has now been transferred to a nursing home in Junction City, which is good news (because it means he is recovering rapidly) and bad news (because his periodic stays at a nursing home are always stressful times for the family).

So, until further notice, I will be spending my nights at his bedside, making sure he doesn't become so disoriented that he panics or otherwise endangers himself, while Mom takes the days.

I anticipate becoming very tired, physically and emotionally. But that's life. You do what you gotta. Life goes on. And various other catchphrases that seem somehow to give me comfort, and if they get on your nerves, my apologies, but golly folks, something had better give me comfort....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Do what you can and leave the rest."\\

Track George Burt For Yourself

http://www.peacehealth.org/apps/Smartrack/view.asp?book_urn=196441&fac_mnc=SHRB&x=8&y=2

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, " http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~ssanty/cgi-bin/eightball.cgi "\\

Dad is Having Surgery Today at 1:00 PM

1300 hours Pacific Daylight Time.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Or in George's honor, call it 1400 hours Pacific War Time."\\

My Father Has Hurt Himself

I'm at work, doing an overnight shift. I'd been going to go pick Dad up tomorrow morning to take him to his gym, but my mother just called to say he'd fallen and injured his hip. He'll be going to the same nursing home in Eugene that he went to after his last "incident".

I just hope he gets to go home again this time. He's 78 years old and not in good health.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "All you can do now is to hold him in the Light."\\

Feeling Better Lately

I hurt my back awhile back. It gradually got worse, though I tried various treatments for it.

Late last month I started physical therapy, and it seems to be helping. At my most recent PT session, I was found to have greater flexibility bending both backward and forward.

Also, today I had to crawl into the bed of Uncle Wesley's Isuzu pickup, and it was merely a challenge rather than an epic farce.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Take good news when you find it."\\

Mystery Building (Dis)Solved

For years I have been going past a solid, concrete-block building at the intersection of Highway 20 and Independence Highway, and from time to time I have wondered what purpose it had served, back when it was in regular use (it had obviously been abandoned quite awhile ago).

Little did I guess, though, that nobody else knew what the thing was for until I saw an article about the "mystery building" in the Corvallis Gazette-Times.

The other day, I saw a crew at work with a crane, tearing the building down. Perhaps the stress of not knowing what it was for drove someone to distraction. Or maybe someone has another use for the location....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Who knows?"\\

News About Tesfaye

Last night, while I was at work, our daughter Asnakech called. She told Kathe that she had seen our son Tesfaye, that not only is he alive, but he appeared to be healthy.

Combined with the fact that Tes appears not to have been arrested anywhere in Oregon for the last year, this is especially good news.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Take what you can get."\\

Don't Take Our Stuff

Back when we had a functioning wood stove, we periodically acquired piles of firewood, and sometimes we'd get a piece of wood that was just too big to break up. Such pieces of wood tended to wind up down along the Tenth Street side of the house, near the shed that at one time was a garage. There they would sit until they eventually rotted away.

The hunks of wood never really served any purpose, except that occasionally one of them would be used as an anvil for splitting a smaller piece of wood, but we did take a certain enjoyment in admiring "the stump garden".

When the wood stove rusted out, the stump garden remained, its massive knots gradually decaying until only one remained.

Then the other day I noticed that the one chunk remaining was gone. A trail of ground-off punky wood led into the back yard of the house adjoining ours on Tenth Street, where we had seen (and smelled) the residents, a sadly typical bunch of college students, burning garbage in defiance of both law and decency.

So we called the police (again) and complained of our rotten log being stolen. We explained that no, we didn't actually want the log back, but we didn't want to establish a precedent of their coming onto our property and taking our things with impunity.

They haven't actually been puned this time, either, but I hope that the visit from the police and the fire marshal did at least leave them feeling pwn3d.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Do not take what does not belong to you."\\

One Word

One Word.....

One Word.

USING ONLY ONE WORD! It's not as easy as you might think! Copy and change the answers to suit you and pass it on. Be sure to tag the person you received it from!
-----

1. Your cell phone? Active.

2. Your significant other? Shining.

3. Your hair? Drab.

4. Your mother? Determined.

5. Your father? Decrepit.

6. Your favorite place? Bed.

7. Your dream last night? Busy.

8. Your favorite drink? Coffee.

9. Your dream/goal? Marriage.

10. What room you are in? Workroom.

11. Your hobby? Writing.

12. Your fear? Failure.

13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Home.

14. Where were you last night? Work.

15. Something that you are not? Content.

16. Muffins? Sure.

17. Wish list item? Hope.

18. Where you grew up? Oregon.

19. Last thing you did? Work.

20. What are you wearing? Scrubs.

21. Your TV? Uncabled.

22. Your pets? Dead.

23. Friends? Some.

24. Your life? Difficult.

25. Your mood? Determined.

26. Missing some one? Yes.

27. Car? Borrowed.

28. Something you're not wearing? Rings.

29. Your favorite store? Matt's.

30. Your favorite color? Blue.

33. When is the last time you laughed? Cheezburger.

34. Last time you cried? Harbors.

35. Who will resend this? Nobody.

36. One place that you go to over and over? Library.

37. One person who texts you regularly? Kathe.

38. Your favorite place to eat? Home.

39. Your favorite food? Coffee.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Succinctness."\\

25 Random Things About me

I think I did this already, but I don't suppose there is any rule against randomly doing another one.

1. My hair was bright red as a child. It turned brown many years ago, but I have never been reconciled to it, and it always looks wrong in the mirror.

2. I have always considered the dense freckles on my arm to be a connection to my grandmother, who has the same. I finally mentioned that to her in a telephone conversation we had not long ago.

3. My wife and I have attended the Corvallis Friends Meeting for some years, off and on. I never seriously considered calling myself a "Christian" at any time, nor did I ever feel the slightest urge to declare Jesus Christ my personal Lord and Savior. But a few years ago, I was driving along and started turning the phrase "Friends of christ" over in my head, and concluded that, all issues of the supernatural aside, I certainly felt entirely comfortable declaring that (to the extent such a statement has meaning), I was "a friend of Christ". Suddenly I burst into tears, which was quite distracting since I was driving at the time, and I considered pulling over to contemplate the matter at more length, but in the end I just went on to my destination. This is probably as close as I am ever likely to get to a conversion experience, and doubtless not nearly enough to get me into Heaven*, but it was quite odd and surprising.

4. *I do not believe in an afterlife.

5. If I ever become the owner of an apartment building, the apartments will not have numbers, but names. I am thinking that the building will be called the Mark Twain, and the apartments will have names like "The Tom Sawyer Suite". Wouldn;t you like to have "Pudd'nhead Wilson Suite, Mark Twain Apartments, 369 Maple Street" for an address?

6. I am very fond of rats, have enjoyed petting and playing with them since I was a small child and befriended the rats my father used in his psychology research, was delighted in 1984 when I learned that my new friends (including the one who became my wife) kept rats.

7. I currently do not have any pets of any description, neither rats nor cats nor dogs. It feels weird.

8. I currently do not have any children living at home, and doubt whether I ever will. It feels weird.

9. There is a five-foot-long stuffed facsimile of a catfish about ten feet to my right. I bought it at a garage sale.

10. There is a twelve-inch globe of Earth's Moon about four feet to the right and upward from the catfish. My parents bought it during the Apollo Moon landings. I'm not sure why I have it and not them or my brothers.

11. I have two brothers, born in succeeding years (John in 1960, David in 1961, Tom in 1962). We gave one another an unhappy childhood. This is not a joke, we were in fact unhappy, and it was in large part due to our mutual hostility.

12. I have a fabulous sweater which evolved gradually out of a tie-dyed thermal undershirt, over more than twenty years of mending. You can see it on my Facebook profile, among other places.

13. I love my wife very much.

14. I read comic books, and have since I was a small child. Although my reading habits have always been eclectic, at present I read almost nothing except graphic novels which I check out from the Corvallis-Benton County Public Library, and ghraphic novels which I buy at Matt's Cavalcade of Comics Cards and collectibles and then donate to the Library.

15. I have a great fondness for the big, bright full Moon such as we have tonight.

16. The sliver-thin new Moon is also very special to me, because of an occasion when one of my kids saw it and burst out laughing, saying, "Moon 'tending be fingernail!" Damn, I could have lived a thousand years and never had that thought.

17. I have worn black socks almost exclusively since I first joined the Navy.

18. Whenever I see a reference to commercial sea traffic, I think of my wife's father, who died when she was a little girl.

19. I live in a house which depends on an oil burner for heat.

20. I recently turned my bed so its head, rather than its right side, was against the wall.

21. I have an injury to my back which has come and gone for years, but in the last few days has come and come and come.

22. I still have no tattoos.

23. Over the last thirty years, I have gone from jockey shorts to bikini briefs to boxers.

24. I have used Old Spice deodorant by preference for years, under the impression that it was my father's brand. Then a memory was knocked loose in my head and I remembered that it was actually Old Space shaving cream that he used. His deororant was Right Guard.

25. I had a gold crown come loose last summer, and it's been in a dish of nicknacks near the bed ever since, waiting for me to have the time and the money to get it put back.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You never know when some little fact will turn out to be important."\\

Hail to the Chief

Hail to the Chief we have chosen for the nation,
Hail to the Chief! We salute him, one and all.
Hail to the Chief, as we pledge cooperation
In proud fulfillment of a great, noble call.
Yours is the aim to make this grand country grander,
This you will do, that's our strong, firm belief.
Hail to the one we selected as commander,
Hail to the President! Hail to the Chief!

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Your only choices are to live in hope, or to live without hope."\\

"Quotation" Marks

The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks, a very "funny" blog built around the all-too-common "practice" of putting quotation "marks" around words, "seemingly" at random.

It is a "problem" more "widespread" than you might "imagine".

//The Magic Eight Ball says, "Use punctuation marks 'wisely' -- darn, now you've got me doing it!"\\

Conversation Over Breakfast

The other day, I happened to be sitting across a table from an old man while he ate his breakfast. He mentioned casually that he can't eat eggs any longer, having cooked too many eggs for the "hundred and eighty men in the battery".

"Oh, you were an artilleryman?"

"Coastal defenses on Oahu."

"Oh."

After a long pause, he said, "We saw the planes coming, but there was nothing we could do. Our guns were for keeping away ships, not planes."

After a longer pause, he added, "I never really got over that."

I had several thoughts after that exchange:

*It's a damn shame that he has to carry that around with him all his life. And he was just the cook, for crying out loud.
*Even his unit commander wasn't at fault. The ones who can fairly be censured weren't even there that day.
*I wonder whether Oregon, being a West coast state, has a disproportionate number of Pearl Harbor survivors?
*I'm glad that I live in a country where it is relatively unlikely that the nice old man sitting across from me is going to reveal in casual conversation that he is a war criminal.

I shared none of these with the old man. I just let him eat his egg-free breakfast in peace.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must remain silent."\\

It is a New Year

It is a new year. All things are made new.

I have to make myself believe this, and live as though it were true.

It is a new year, all things are made new.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Happy New Year."\\

Heat's Back On

Ever since the wood stove's fire bricks wore away, the oil stove has been our only source of home heat. That's especially bad because it requires both oil to burn and electricity to run the blower -- if we are without either, we're out of heat. We really need to do something about that.

So far, we've been pretty lucky, but today the oil stopped flowing. Sounding of the oil tank confirmed that it wasn't empty, but when Kathe disconnected the supply pipe only a little oil dribbled out, so we knew it was the culprit.

But what was blocking the pipe? Sediment? Ice? And how could we clear it?

I only had one idea, and it seemed pretty dubious to me. Still, it was all I had. I went out and bought a little bit of diesel fuel and requisitioned the big veterinary syringe that I'd used for years to wash out my ear canals. I loaded the syringe with fuel oil, jammed it into the supply pipe and flushed the pipe with oil, then drew back, just like washing out a nasogastric line.

I got a syringe full of dirty oil, plus a big glob of nasty black crud. I repeated the process with a couple of cups' worth of diesel, and the line began to run freely.

I lit the stove and Kathe congratulated me on a successful experiment. I remembered the time that she had finished a difficult repair and celebrated with a Tarzan yell, and said,

"Right now I am made of win like Charlie McCarthy is made of wood and Joan is Maid of Orleans!"

You don't get very many chances to say something like that.

Oh, one more thing: when Kathe gave that yell, she also called out, "Everything in this house that works, works because I made it work!"

You've got to share that title now, sweetie.

//The Magic Eight Ball says, "Memento mori."\\

New Keys

My Uncle Wesley is too sick to drive his Isuzu pickup, so waste not-want not, my aunt Anne is allowing me to borrow it indefinitely.

It did have one problem: the key was bent, and over months it got worse. I took it to a drug store and the clerk clamped the crooked key into their grinder, but the copy looked like the original the way that the FBI Unabomber sketch looks like Ted Kaczynski.
Finally the other day, I was riding around with Kathe while she delivered notices, and noticed that her current stop was a locksmith's shop, a real one and not just a grinder setup at a drug store.

So, I got a pair of keys made and took them home to try them out on the pickup. Only aftyer I got home did I notice that both the old key and the new ones were from Albany Lock & Key. Huh.

Not only did the new keys work, but they work better than the bent key at unlocking the doors and starting the motor.

Dang, I should have done that months ago. Among other things....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "At least that's one thiong taken care of. Don't stop now. And don't forget to thank Anne and Wes again."\\

Giving Stuff Away

Kathe and I live in a big old house with lots of space (although the lookout tower where I write these words remains imaginary), and we have filled entirely too much of that space with things for which we have no current use but which are just too nice to throw away.

Or could we throw some of this stuff away? Or find good homes for it with people who would appreciate how nifty it is? But how would we find such people....

And that was how things stood for us, even after we got hooked up to the Internet, until just recently. Then we discovere Free-Cycle, specifically the Albany-Corvallis chapter, located on Yahoo.

Yesterday we gave away big stacks of National Geographic. Today it was a classic Victorian-style baby carriage (which did in fact carry several known babies, most recently Waldy). The NGs are going to be circulated among home-schooling families (a very suitable fate for them), and the carriage will serve as a display space for a doll collection.

We are sitting around feeling virtuous, or at least like not such complete and utter fools as all that, for hanging onto those things for so long, and wonderfully relieved not to be responsible for them anymore.

Thanksgiving Message

I am thankful that Kathe and I are still together. People went out of my life this year, and for much of it I thought Kathe was going to be one of them. I am grateful to Kathe for offering me another chance.

I was in a great deal of pain over the past year, of which the hole the doctors cut in my head last Thanksgiving was only the most obvious, and far from being the most painful. Some of that pain I took out on Kathe in ways that now make me cringe with shame. Very little of what I put her through was deserved.

Mainly, though, I look back thankfully on the good times Kathe and I have had. There were a lot more good times than bad, after all. And I look forward to good times yet to come, and give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way

Con Report, Day Three

The soak turned out to be less "blessed" than it was "marginally adequate". The hotel had disabled the bathtub drains, and only had one stopper to offer to guests who actually wanted a bath (as we had specifically requested). The desk clerk managed to find us a coffee can lid which more or less held the water back, provided we didn't move around too much in the water. But hey, we managed.

The next day we passed up "A Mission to Mars" and "Women Role Models in Science Fiction" in favor of "Guilty Pleasures", thereby showing where our priorities lay. We also experienced "Magical Realism" and pondered "At What Point does Society Stop Being Civilized?"

We walked the halls, and I observed that goggles are the new propellor beanie.

We went into the dealers' room and as I looked casually over a table full of books, the dealer laid a book down as though especially for me to see. It proved to be A Houseboat on the River Styx by John Kendrick Bangs, a book I had been looking for for some time, and which is noted for being associated with a surprising number of synchronicities (for instance, Alan Moore named his character Promethea, whose stories are all involved in the interplay between reality and fiction, "Sophie Bangs" long before he'd heard of John Kendrick Bangs) and cultural curiosities (for instance, its cast of famous dead people included Sherlock Holmes, who at the time of the book's writing had been killed off and had not yet been resurrected).

Finding the Houseboat was good luck for me, and I hope that it will prove to be an omen of good fortune for both Kathe and me, also.

Since we weren't staying at the con hotel and were pretty tired also, we left in the middle of the afternoon rather than dead-dogging it. Maybe next year.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Regarding next year, ask again later."\\

Con Report, Day Two

We spent the night at a less than ideal motel (no bathtub to soak our respective sore bones, for one major thing), went further down Barbur to find a better one, then went down to the Marriott for more conventiongoing.

We attended workshops and panels on "Mermaids, Sirens and Other Attractive Nuisances"; "Portraying Workplaces in Science Fiction and Fantasy" and "Have Comics Shaped Our Society?" We went over to visit my cousin Jean and her husband Lukas, then back to the hotel for "What Would Happen if the Oil Stopped?"; "Magic or Technology: Why Must We Choose?" (where I was scolded for saying "magic realism" rather than "magical realism") and the "99 Cent Costume Workshop" (which was fun, but we declined to enter the costume competition in our outfits) and "Non-Eurpoean Mythology: an Untapped Resource".

We also attended the costume contest, voted for our favorites and then left without dancing, opting instead to go get food, go to our new hotel (the Aladdin), take a blessed soak and go to bed.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Remember that fortune cookie? It said you would profit by spending time with family."\\

Con Report, Day One

Kathe and I are attending OryCon 30 in Portland this weekend. We arrived late on Friday (before the opening ceremonies, which we skipped, but after a lot of the programming for the day).

Programming we did attend included "Absurd Robots and the People Who Want to Own One" and "A History of Planetary Probes".

We brought our new matching sweaters, and our even newer matching tights, which we were to wear on Day Two.

More to this post later.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Have a good weekend."

Time Change

Yesterday, my phone's alarm woke me at 0630, so I could get to my parents' place by 0800. But by the time I'd gotten there my phone was on Standard Time, and it said it was 0700.

I know the alarm was still on Daylight Savings Time on Monday morning, because then it was full dark as I made my way to the shower, and this morning it was light at 0630.

So apparently the phone's clock did automatically shift back to Standard Time, but not until sometime between 0630 and 0700, when the official time change was at 0200. Weird.

Galileo Confirmed

Tonight at 1905 PDT, Kathe and I were heading back to Corvallis from Albany on Highway 20 when we pulled over near the Hewlett-Packard campus, rested a pair of Fisher-Price binoculars on the roof of our van, and observed the distinct crescent shape of Venus.

We enjoyed it a lot.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may."\\

Uncle C, Please Contact Me

Uncle C, please contact me at the e-mail address that is posted on that other blog.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says: "Everyone who isn't Uncle C, don't worry about it."\\

Good Samaritan's New Wing

The other month, when my father was in Good Sam, I noticed their new wing and meant to blog about it, but forgot about it until just today when I was up on the hill (as it happened, on another errand for my father). Possibly I will later move it to an earlier date, which will retroactively make this a retroactive post....

The new wing is still under construction, but the graffito I noticed on the top floor is no longer visible -- I think some new construction has covered it up.

But as I was saying, I admired the new wing under construction, reminded a bit of Major Matt Mason's Moon base playset, and thought that it must surely be attractive to urban explorers.

Then I noticed a graffito (I think it said "Rat" or something like that, which I took to be a personal tag), which had been placed in violation of the conventions of the urban explorer but consistent with the conventions of the smart-aleck.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You would know about smart-alecks, John."\\

Comment Moderation Enabled

Any future comments on this blog will be subject to my approval.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Up yours, NJ."\\

It Suits Today the Meek and Base

The other day I was watching a financial news report and saw a great big red flag (Chinese) flying in front of the New York Stock Exchange.

Probably not one person in ten who saw that image even noticed the irony.

A socialist of, say, 1908, if granted a millennial vision of the future, would have drawn all the wrong conclusions.

George Orwell, though, would have recognized the final scene of Animal Farm.

BTW, have any of you seen the British comic strip "Maggie's Farm", in which a human (well, zombie) manager is hired for the dilapidated Animal Farm? She remains puzzled by why production continues to fall, in spite of strictly observed taxidermist policies, although she is pleased by the reduced costs....

Anyway, it's a strange old world, isn't it?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Yes, it is."\\

My Father is Not a Mennonite

He's just staying at their home.

He has a massive infection, caused by the indwelling catheter he was wearing due to complications of his spinal injury, and is now in the fourth week of a 6-8 week program of intravenous antibiotics, every four hours.

That requires him to live at the Mennonite Home until he is done with his every-four-hours infusions. The unfamiliar surroundings add to the confusion caused by his infection, which adds to the confusion caused by his stroke.

It helps if there is someone at his bedside to help re-orient him when he starts thinking that he needs to hurry to OSU to look after his Psychology students, or to the church to look after his Vacation Bible School kids, or to the airbase to report for duty.

Mom is doing most of that. I fill in for her in the evenings. It is wearing me out, and I hate to think what it is doing to Mom.

Just on top of everything else....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You do what you gotta."\\

Naughty Sarah

Sarah Palin is wearing Naughty Monkey shoes.

At least she forwent the Quickie, the Nookie and the Bonk Her in favor of the Double Dare, but even so, talk about raising issues of judgment....

Presumably Naughty Moose hip waders were not available in her size.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "John, I understand that you are under a lot of stress, but really...."\\

The End of the Story, Epilogue

Then again, maybe Kathe and I do have a future together after all.

We'll see.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Only time will tell."\\

Is There a Way?

I have always said, "There is a way", but what if there isn't?

Perhaps I have put myself in a position from which there is no honorable way to move, no way to avoid a choice that breaks the heart of at least one person I would rather die than hurt.

But to choose death myself would only cause still more pain than any choice I can make. So what then?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I have no idea at all."\\

One Way or Another

I hadn't told my now-grown children about my relationship with R***** or about G****'s birth, not because I considered it a shameful matter but because I wanted to respect R*****'s privacy and because I thought explaining the matter might prove...complicated. Basically, I didn't want to get into it, and I didn't see any pressing reason to do it.

Now that Kathe and I are apparently parting ways, there is indeed a pressing reason.

The other day, one of my daughters called me from Texas and asked casually how we were doing. I felt I had little choice but to tell her all of it. I was sorry to dump it all on her that was, but there was, after all, a lot to tell, so I did.

I was encouraged by the fact that her first response to the information dump was to tell me that my first priority needed to be to be a good Daddy to Gideon. That is the response I would have wanted to hear from her, and I agree.

I also asked her to call her sister in Portland and ask her to call me. Instead, she called her sister and, without explaining why, urged her to visit Kathe, and she is in town now, and I'm very glad of that.

So, the girls know the story now, and the boys know most of it. Soon enough, everyone will know the whole story, and soon after they will all be sick of it, because while some of the story does not reflect well on me, I am not in the least ashamed of knowing R*****. Or G****.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Knowing what you should be ashamed of is half of a moral education."\\

UPDATE: At R*****'s request, I have deleted her name and our child's, since we will not be living together after all.

My Father is Very Sick

At Good Samaritan getting IV antibiotics for a resistant bladder infection, which turned into three antibiotics for a bladder and kidney infection, which is now, I think, three different and stronger antibiotics for an infection of his kidneys, heart and possibly other structures.

Dad has been plagued for months by a series of highly-resistant infections. They keep piling on new antibiotics, but meanwhile the bugs keep getting more resistant.

If you would like to do something in honor of the suffering of my father and others like him, please go right now and wash your hands.

I'm serious. Wash your hands now. Wash your hands several times a day, with soap and hot water, taking as long as it takes to sing one verse of your favorite song.

And not with antibacterial soap, either. Casual use of antibacterial substances is part of the problem.

Wash your hands, people. Wash surfaces that people touch frequently (like computer keyboards). Wash them, and wash them again when needed.

I am not being the least bit blasphemous or facetious when I implore you earnestly to for God's sake wash your hands.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "When was the last time you washed me, John?"\\

After the End of the Story

I have at last seen the e-mail headed "The End of the Story", and have also learned a couple of significant facts.

One is that the e-mail wasn't actually as bad as I had imagined. Quite reasonable under the circumstances, actually. Another is that Kathe did, in fact, send me a copy, and when she heard that I had complained of not getting it, she sent it again.

Finally, Kathe didn't actually send the e-mail to everyone on Earth, but only to those with whom she had excvhanged e-mails in the past. This last was a comfort to hear, because just before Kathe sent out the e-mail she asked me to provide her with a copy of my own Friends list on Hotmail.

The End of the Story

If you are someone who knows me personally, you have probably already seen an e-mail which Kathe apparently sent out to everyone she could reach who knew me. I haven't seen it myself yet, because Kathe didn't include me among the recipients and because those who have seen it have all sent me comments like, "I deleted it and put her on my Blocked Sender list" or "There was nothing in it you would benefit from seeing".

That last comment is probably right. Still, I'm only human, and I do wonder what was in it. So to anyone who has received an e-mail from Kathe titled "The End of the Story", I invite you to forward it to me, with or without your own comments.

And to Kathe I will say, I would never have done to you what you have now done to yourself.

And by the way: one day I hope you will be willing to hear me say what I say right now: I love you.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Life Goes On."\\

Happy Birthday

My father's birthday is not until the 4th of July. Today was not my niece Andrea's birthday, either. But hey, close enough, at least this year.

Kathe and I went out to Bellfountain. So did my brother Tom and his girls, Andrea and Linda. So did Casey, the girls' grandmother, my mother's sister Pat and my father's sister Ann, Ann's husband Wesley.

A fairly low-key event. Andrea got some presents (including a book about Batman, her favorite character, with a read-along tape I recorded for her), and so did Dad (including a book of allegedly brain-stimulating puzzles Kathe found at Browser's Books). We had wrap sandwiches, and pieces of a flag-themed cake.

Not much, just a family event. The big event was that someone's dentures got misplaced, I won't say whose.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Family is important, if only to one's own family."\\

Surviving A Disaster

Informative interview with Amanda Ripley, author of:
The Unthinkable: Who Survives When Disaster Strikes—and Why

http://www.motherjones.com/interview/2008/06/five-ways-to-survive-disaster.html
Disaster survival tips:
1. Learn how to text message. Oftentimes, as in Katrina, text messages will go through when cell phone calls won't.

2. Expect smoke. If you're in an airplane, know how many rows are between you and the exits. If you're at home, know your way to the door without the lights on. Most fire deaths are due to smoke.

3. Get to know your neighbors. They may be your key to survival. The stronger your community is, the better equipped you will be to survive a disaster.

4. Practice. Many people who survived the WTC attacks knew where the staircases were because they did lots of fire drills. Children especially should know where to go in case of emergency, and walk that route until they are familiar with it.

5. Lose weight. Overweight people often are less able to move quickly in escape situations that call for speed.

Memorial Day

In the Oregon State University Daily Barometer for 29 May 2008, columnist Dan Fitzpatrick complains that "the mainstream media has [sic] been paying less...attention to American...wars in the Middle East", and proposes to "provide a brief dedication" to recent Medal of Honor recipients.

Unfortunately, Fitzpatrick is unable to follow through on his lofty goals, and instead uses American heroes as cheap props in a feeble attempt to dress up the abject failures of his beloved President Bush, talking wishfully about "the success of last year's troop surge".

Let me tell you about honoring the service of brave and capable Americans in war, without regard for the politics and personalities which sent them off to war.

When I was serving in the United States Navy, I was stationed at a medical center which had been in continuous use for over a hundred years. Although most of the base was modern and up-to-date, there were a few reminders of older times, most notably a military cemetery behind the enlisted men's quarters. I walked past that cemetery almost every day, and frequently paused to read the stones and contemplate their meaning: "Unknown USN...Unknown CSN...LCpl. R. Jones, USMC...Ens. M. Richards, CSN...."

The stones were identical, and no effort was made to separate the Union from the Confederate dead. This in spite of the fact that, no matter what the Confederate sailors' personal motivations might have been, the judgment of history is that the Confederacy was founded on "treason in defense of slavery".

But there's something more: the graves were dug (and filled) right in the midst of that terrible war, by Union sailors who were burying their own comrades -- and the men who had killed them.

That is what I call setting aside politics in order to honor the dead.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Rest in peace, one and all."\\

Library Books, 24 May 2008

Ex machina. Book 04, March to war / Brian K. Vaughan, writer ; Tony Harris, pencils ; Tom Feister, inks.
6/3/2008
*
A distant soil. Vol. IV, Coda / Colleen Doran.
6/3/2008
*
RG Veda. Vol. 10 / by Clamp.
6/3/2008
*
Rhode Island blues [sound recording] / by Fay Weldon.
6/3/2008
*
The 9/11 report : a graphic adaptation / by Sid Jacobsen and Ernie Colón ; [with a foreword by Thomas H. Kean and Lee H. Hamilton].
6/3/2008
*
Torchwood, the complete first season [DVD] / British Broadcasting Corporation ; executive producers, Russell T. Davies, Julie Gardner ; producer, Richard Stokes ; written by Russell T. Davies ... [et al.] ; directed by Brian Kelly ... [et al.].
6/4/2008
*
World of warcraft : the art of the trading card game / forewords by Samwise Didier and Glenn Rane ; introduction by Jeremy Cranford.
6/4/2008
*
Superman vs. Hollywood : how fiendish producers, devious directors, and warring writers grounded an American icon / Jake Rossen.
6/4/2008
*
A book is born : 24 authors tell all / created by Nancy C. Cleary with co-authors Christine Louise Hohlbaum ... [et al.] ; illustrations by Kelley Cunningham ; editing by Kim Pearson.
6/4/2008
*
Boldly live as you've never lived before : (unauthorized and unexpected) life lessons from Star trek / Richard Raben and Hiyaguha Cohen.
6/5/2008
*
A woman's self-esteem : stories of struggle, stories of triumph / Nathaniel Branden.
6/5/2008
*
Sublime spaces & visionary worlds : built environments of vernacular artists / Leslie Umberger ; with contributions by Erika Doss ... [et al.].
6/6/2008
*
Your perfect right : assertiveness and equality in your life and relationships / Robert Alberti, Michael Emmons.
6/7/2008
*
Overstreet comic book price guide / Robert M. Overstreet.
6/11/2008
*
Batman. The long Halloween / writer, Jeph Loeb ; artist, Tim Sale ; colors, Gregory Wright ; created by Bob Kane.
6/18/2008
*
Antique bakery Vol. 3 / Fumi Yoshinaga.
6/18/2008
*
Imadoki! Nowadays. Vol. 01, Dandelion / Yû Watase.
6/18/2008
*
Maxwell Strangewell / story and art by the Fillbach Brothers.
6/18/2008
*
Perfect example / by John Porcellino.
6/18/2008
*
Scott Pilgrim. Vol. 04, Scott Pilgrim gets it together / [Bryan Lee O'Malley].
6/18/2008
*
Sorcerers & secretaries. Vol. 02 / by Amy Kim Ganter.
6/18/2008
*
Spent / Joe Matt.
6/18/2008
*
Bizarro comics / [writers, Jessica Abel ... [et al.].
6/20/2008
*
The rejection collection vol. 2 : the cream of the crap / edited by Matthew Diffee.
6/20/2008
*
All I need to know I learned from my cat (and then some) / Suzy Becker.
6/20/2008
*
Einstein simplified : cartoons on science / by Sidney Harris.
6/20/2008
*
Great lies to tell small kids / Andy Riley.
6/20/2008
*
Schulz's youth / by Charles M. Schulz ; foreword by Jerry Scott.
6/20/2008
*
Walt & Skeezix. 1923 & 1924 / by Frank O. King.
6/20/2008
*
The Bakers. "Do these toys belong somewhere?" / Kyle Baker.
6/20/2008

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Read 'em and weep."\\

McCain Video

Here's your straight-talking maverick, America: http://video.tagged.com/?v=GEtZlR3zp4c&ect=dxaxxuk&al=1

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Next question."\\

Junking the Tercel

Kathe and I have owned three Tercel station wagons over the years. Overall, they've been the most reliable vehicles we've owned since original-series Beetles became too expensive to maintain.

Our most recent Tercel, a 1984, recently started making funny noises, which turned out to be very extensive wear that would have required about $1,200 worth of work. We could probably buy two equivalent cars for that much money, so sentimental and frugal as we are, the Tercel will be junked.

It's parked in front of the house right now. We've already stripped it of small items like the ice scrapers and the jack. Monday or Tuesday, we will v-e-e-e-r-y carefully drive it down to B&R Auto Wrecking and be done with it.

We also saved the owner's manual -- anybody need one?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Life goes on."\\

My Father is Better

Actually, his recovery has been so rapid that his care team aren't trying to set goals for him, they're just monitoring his progress and waiting to see how much he recovers and how fast.

Kathe and I went to Eugene for his care conference, and for his first time out of the facility since his arrival. We went out to a Red Robin (more my parents' sort of place than mine, but not bad), hoping to be joined by my cousin Jean and her husband, but they were delayed.

Afterward, we went back to Dad's room at Riverpark to wait for the others to arrive, but the night shift I worked the night before caught up to me, and Kathe persuaded me to leave for home. I slept in the car for most of the trip.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "So far, so good."\\

All Those Kids, What to Do?

The authorities are hard-pressed to know what to do with all the kids they carried away from the FLDS compound: where to house them, who should care for them, how to deal with culture shock.

Hey, guys, here's a thought: Why didn't you just leave the women and children in place and just run the menfolk out? Jail them or rent motel rooms or whatever, let the DA's people and the social workers interview everyone in good order, and decide in some reasonable period of time who can go home before the trials and who can't?

A lot less trouble and disruption than spiriting the kids away and scattering them on the winds, seems like. Probably less expensive, too.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Never attribute to malice what can be explained by stupidity. And never attribute to individual stupidity what can be explained by institutional culture."\\

My Father is Very Sick

He had to go off the coumadin in order to have oral surgery, and while he was off it, a blood clot formed and he had a stroke.

He's improving rapidly, but is still going to be in "skilled nursing facility" in Eugene fo awhile.

It's a nice one....


//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Be brave."\\