Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Lunar Eclipse
Just before I settled down to my evening's nap I set the alarm for 11:30 PM. I wanted to see the lunar eclipse with the reddish glow. Upon awakening I rushed to the door and threw open the sashes where to my wondering eyes should appear but…..a cloudy sky.
I searched for the moon and there it was, a fuzzy yellow shape about a thumb width (at arms length) above the trees. There appeared to be a bite taken out of it and then it disappeared. I think we are in the area of the US where only about 3% of the people get to witness this event. Much like our AT & T coverage, we’re perpetually in the 3% that doesn’t have any coverage.
I yelled out to Sandi, “It was a doozie.“ By the way ’doozie’ is an astronomical term.
It was coined the last time there was an lunar eclipse on the winter solstice in 1638. In just so happens a Mr. Galilei was under house arrest during the eclipse and so one would think that that he being the great Italian physicist, mathematician, astronomer and philosopher was the one to coin the phrase. But, no, it was his guard exclaiming to Galileo (since he was under house arrest and one would think ‘in the house’) “It’s a doozie!” He was under arrest for blasphemous teachings that he wouldn’t back down from; that being the Sun and not Earth was the center of our universe.
This was cool too even if I don‘t totally understand it:
“Why red?
A quick trip to the Moon provides the answer: Imagine yourself standing on a dusty lunar plain looking up at the sky. Overhead hangs Earth, nightside down, completely hiding the sun behind it. The eclipse is underway. You might expect Earth seen in this way to be utterly dark, but it's not. The rim of the planet is on fire! As you scan your eye around Earth's circumference, you're seeing every sunrise and every sunset in the world, all of them, all at once. This incredible light beams into the heart of Earth's shadow, filling it with a coppery glow and transforming the Moon into a great red orb.”
To me, this was really fodder for the imagination.
Jim
I searched for the moon and there it was, a fuzzy yellow shape about a thumb width (at arms length) above the trees. There appeared to be a bite taken out of it and then it disappeared. I think we are in the area of the US where only about 3% of the people get to witness this event. Much like our AT & T coverage, we’re perpetually in the 3% that doesn’t have any coverage.
I yelled out to Sandi, “It was a doozie.“ By the way ’doozie’ is an astronomical term.
It was coined the last time there was an lunar eclipse on the winter solstice in 1638. In just so happens a Mr. Galilei was under house arrest during the eclipse and so one would think that that he being the great Italian physicist, mathematician, astronomer and philosopher was the one to coin the phrase. But, no, it was his guard exclaiming to Galileo (since he was under house arrest and one would think ‘in the house’) “It’s a doozie!” He was under arrest for blasphemous teachings that he wouldn’t back down from; that being the Sun and not Earth was the center of our universe.
This was cool too even if I don‘t totally understand it:
“Why red?
A quick trip to the Moon provides the answer: Imagine yourself standing on a dusty lunar plain looking up at the sky. Overhead hangs Earth, nightside down, completely hiding the sun behind it. The eclipse is underway. You might expect Earth seen in this way to be utterly dark, but it's not. The rim of the planet is on fire! As you scan your eye around Earth's circumference, you're seeing every sunrise and every sunset in the world, all of them, all at once. This incredible light beams into the heart of Earth's shadow, filling it with a coppery glow and transforming the Moon into a great red orb.”
To me, this was really fodder for the imagination.
Jim
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Henry David Thoreau was a genius!
If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Thoreau was a genius!
Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined. As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Opening day buck!!!
That’s right, Andrew and I got a legal buck on the opening day of deer season. That has NEVER happened to me before, especially given the fact that we didn’t leave until 2:00 in the afternoon because we went to Gonzo and Gabriela’s baptism in the morning. We came back home cold, wet, tired, and hungry, but we were successful! It was a great day!
What made the getting the buck especially memorable was the fact that it was near the place where Dad and I each got a forked-horn buck when I was about 13 years-old. It’s a place called Rattlesnake Lake up the south fork of the Smith River. Dick and I have been there and shot his pistol.
When I was about 13 years old Dad and I were hunting there and walked up a cutover area looking for deer. We were about 20 yards apart working our way up the hill and I heard a shot coming from where Dad was at. I froze looking for what he may have been shooting at. Above the brush in from of me I saw a deer with forked horns looking in the direction of where the shot had come from. I took aim at the deer and fired a shot. The deer dropped, and I at first thought that I had missed and he had turned and run off. I yelled to Dad something to the effect that I saw one but had missed and it had run off. I ran up to where I had last seen the deer and looked saw the deer laying there. I looked to the side, and much to my surprise I saw another forked-horn deer laying there. Two deer. Dad had seen the one he had shot and had not seen my deer, and I had seen the one I was shooting at and had not seen Dad’s deer.
All these memories came flooding back as Andrew and I went up to Rattlesnake Lake. I’ve been there three times since Dad and I were there, but I must say I haven’t been able to recognize the place, only recollect the memory.
It was raining lightly as we were experiencing the first precursor of winter. It was a warm rain, but yet the harbinger of what the season was to bring. For better or worse we didn’t see any deer there, only the affirmation that it was in the fall season. The only thing we saw were the Band-Tailed Pigeons flying out of the roadside berry bushes fueling up for their migration south.
We drove up the road until we saw a likely looking place. As I was getting out of the pickup I noticed the buck. It was a successful trip.
Oh, you thought I shot a deer? No no no. I just found a dollar.
Jim
What made the getting the buck especially memorable was the fact that it was near the place where Dad and I each got a forked-horn buck when I was about 13 years-old. It’s a place called Rattlesnake Lake up the south fork of the Smith River. Dick and I have been there and shot his pistol.
When I was about 13 years old Dad and I were hunting there and walked up a cutover area looking for deer. We were about 20 yards apart working our way up the hill and I heard a shot coming from where Dad was at. I froze looking for what he may have been shooting at. Above the brush in from of me I saw a deer with forked horns looking in the direction of where the shot had come from. I took aim at the deer and fired a shot. The deer dropped, and I at first thought that I had missed and he had turned and run off. I yelled to Dad something to the effect that I saw one but had missed and it had run off. I ran up to where I had last seen the deer and looked saw the deer laying there. I looked to the side, and much to my surprise I saw another forked-horn deer laying there. Two deer. Dad had seen the one he had shot and had not seen my deer, and I had seen the one I was shooting at and had not seen Dad’s deer.
All these memories came flooding back as Andrew and I went up to Rattlesnake Lake. I’ve been there three times since Dad and I were there, but I must say I haven’t been able to recognize the place, only recollect the memory.
It was raining lightly as we were experiencing the first precursor of winter. It was a warm rain, but yet the harbinger of what the season was to bring. For better or worse we didn’t see any deer there, only the affirmation that it was in the fall season. The only thing we saw were the Band-Tailed Pigeons flying out of the roadside berry bushes fueling up for their migration south.
We drove up the road until we saw a likely looking place. As I was getting out of the pickup I noticed the buck. It was a successful trip.
Oh, you thought I shot a deer? No no no. I just found a dollar.
Jim
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Past Summer Fun
North Coast Kayak Fishing
Del Norte County is on the cusp of a new and enjoyable phenomena! Select fishermen in the area are venturing into a new local fishing area that is very old. More and more people are fishing from a kayak in the North Coast region.
Fishing from a kayak allows a person to successfully fish formerly local non-fishable waters. Just beyond where a person can cast from the onshore rocks, but just inside of where motorized boats dare not go, is where it’s at. So near but yet so far. Virtually unfished waters await a person fishing from a kayak.
The local Crescent City area is fortunate to have many places to launch a kayak from and be fishing within five minutes. The third turnout south of Washington Boulevard on Pebble Beach consistently has the smallest surf coming ashore and allows one to access and fish the sea stacks just south of Castle Rock. Garth’s Cove Beach, by the airport, is protected from north winds and swell which allow a fisherman to fish the waters south of where much of the rock was quarried at Pt. St. George for the harbor jetty. You can also access the rocks in front of the steps south of Pacific Avenue, but the hard part is dragging your kayak back up the stairs. Access to the south side of Preston Island is a short drag across the rocks but the water is generally very well protected from the north swell. The beach access at 6th Street is a place where it is generally an easy launch across a sandy beach. Wherever there is a kelp bed it tends to dampen the swell, but it makes it harder to fish around. These inside waters are rarely fished but are rich in rock fish. The wind and / or swell direction ultimately dictates where to fish from.
The sport is becoming more and more popular as people discover the benefits of fishing from a kayak. In Southern California it is very popular. In fact, kayak fishing has it’s own magazine devoted to the sport as well as online kayaking forums.
Besides being able to access water that is rarely if ever fished, you don’t need a trailer for your boat or need to launch from a boat ramp, and there are minimal maintenance issues. It’s good to see that more local people starting to fish the area from a kayak. After having fished locally from a kayak for fifteen years I can highly recommend it.
As with any endeavor that takes place in or around water kayak fishing should not be taken lightly. There are many factors that can make a trip enjoyable or uncomfortable, and worse yet, dangerous. A person should be totally comfortable with their kayak. Always wear a lifejacket and be familiar with the local tides and weather forecast. You do not really need to go far offshore but need to be aware of any wind coming up. One should never venture out if it looks the least bit questionable. It’s always worse when you’re actually on the water.
Use the ‘buddy system’ or at the very least tell someone where you’ll be fishing and what time you’re coming in. Having some type of signal device or waterproof phone is good insurance. I’ve heard of a kayaker losing their balance flipping their kayak and ending up in the water while fighting a fish. Some gear was lost and a little pride was damaged, but no real harm was done, and luckily, the fish was landed. Whether you use a sit-a-board kayak or a sit-in kayak, it’s not worth catching a few fish to endanger your life or put someone else’s life in danger.
One needs to be very careful so that you’re fishing on the side of a rock or on the shore side instead of being on the ocean side and take the chance of being swept into a rock by a large swell. Also, it’s better to fish with too light of a line than too heavy of line. Breaking off stuck gear is harder than what it seems it should be when you’re in a light kayak, especially when you’re close to a wash rock.
I have found the most successful method for fishing this inside water is not the usual method of bouncing jigs on rocky bottom areas but rather to cast next to wash rocks and rocks exposed at low tides with lures that you might use to catch other game fish. Using jigs work, but I have been most successful casting and retrieving at varying depths until you find the level that the fish are at.
As ocean fishermen know, rock fish do not always hang around rocks and they’re not always at the same rocks all the time. At times they’re found in open water areas away from rocks. Sometimes it takes some ‘prospecting’ to find the fish. A small depth finder / fish finder allows a fisherman to fish smarter and not fish blind.
Besides fishing, being in a small boat allows a kayaker to get up closer to the local marine life, but while one can get close there needs to be a respect for the marine life as we are invading their habitat. Every time birds fly away or the marine mammals are scared off the rocks they expend valuable energy that they must replace and thus shouldn’t be approached too closely. When fishing around Castle Rock a kayaker should maintain the proper distance away from the Castle Rock National Wildlife Refuge.
At times a fisherman can get so caught up in the anticipation of getting on the water that they easily overlook important items. I’ve heard of a kayaker having a ‘paddle malfunction’ and realized after putting their kayak in the water that they had left their paddle at home. But, that’s not as bad as the guy that was putting his kayak in the water to go fishing and discovered that he’d left his fishing pole on his front porch at his house.
We live in a beautiful area that merits being explored by any means available. A kayak allows us explore, fish, get exercise, and enjoy our local piece of heaven. Try it, your ‘Fun Meter’ will be off the scale. You will feel powerful, but yet at peace paddling our local waters.
Del Norte County is on the cusp of a new and enjoyable phenomena! Select fishermen in the area are venturing into a new local fishing area that is very old. More and more people are fishing from a kayak in the North Coast region.
Fishing from a kayak allows a person to successfully fish formerly local non-fishable waters. Just beyond where a person can cast from the onshore rocks, but just inside of where motorized boats dare not go, is where it’s at. So near but yet so far. Virtually unfished waters await a person fishing from a kayak.
The local Crescent City area is fortunate to have many places to launch a kayak from and be fishing within five minutes. The third turnout south of Washington Boulevard on Pebble Beach consistently has the smallest surf coming ashore and allows one to access and fish the sea stacks just south of Castle Rock. Garth’s Cove Beach, by the airport, is protected from north winds and swell which allow a fisherman to fish the waters south of where much of the rock was quarried at Pt. St. George for the harbor jetty. You can also access the rocks in front of the steps south of Pacific Avenue, but the hard part is dragging your kayak back up the stairs. Access to the south side of Preston Island is a short drag across the rocks but the water is generally very well protected from the north swell. The beach access at 6th Street is a place where it is generally an easy launch across a sandy beach. Wherever there is a kelp bed it tends to dampen the swell, but it makes it harder to fish around. These inside waters are rarely fished but are rich in rock fish. The wind and / or swell direction ultimately dictates where to fish from.
The sport is becoming more and more popular as people discover the benefits of fishing from a kayak. In Southern California it is very popular. In fact, kayak fishing has it’s own magazine devoted to the sport as well as online kayaking forums.
Besides being able to access water that is rarely if ever fished, you don’t need a trailer for your boat or need to launch from a boat ramp, and there are minimal maintenance issues. It’s good to see that more local people starting to fish the area from a kayak. After having fished locally from a kayak for fifteen years I can highly recommend it.
As with any endeavor that takes place in or around water kayak fishing should not be taken lightly. There are many factors that can make a trip enjoyable or uncomfortable, and worse yet, dangerous. A person should be totally comfortable with their kayak. Always wear a lifejacket and be familiar with the local tides and weather forecast. You do not really need to go far offshore but need to be aware of any wind coming up. One should never venture out if it looks the least bit questionable. It’s always worse when you’re actually on the water.
Use the ‘buddy system’ or at the very least tell someone where you’ll be fishing and what time you’re coming in. Having some type of signal device or waterproof phone is good insurance. I’ve heard of a kayaker losing their balance flipping their kayak and ending up in the water while fighting a fish. Some gear was lost and a little pride was damaged, but no real harm was done, and luckily, the fish was landed. Whether you use a sit-a-board kayak or a sit-in kayak, it’s not worth catching a few fish to endanger your life or put someone else’s life in danger.
One needs to be very careful so that you’re fishing on the side of a rock or on the shore side instead of being on the ocean side and take the chance of being swept into a rock by a large swell. Also, it’s better to fish with too light of a line than too heavy of line. Breaking off stuck gear is harder than what it seems it should be when you’re in a light kayak, especially when you’re close to a wash rock.
I have found the most successful method for fishing this inside water is not the usual method of bouncing jigs on rocky bottom areas but rather to cast next to wash rocks and rocks exposed at low tides with lures that you might use to catch other game fish. Using jigs work, but I have been most successful casting and retrieving at varying depths until you find the level that the fish are at.
As ocean fishermen know, rock fish do not always hang around rocks and they’re not always at the same rocks all the time. At times they’re found in open water areas away from rocks. Sometimes it takes some ‘prospecting’ to find the fish. A small depth finder / fish finder allows a fisherman to fish smarter and not fish blind.
Besides fishing, being in a small boat allows a kayaker to get up closer to the local marine life, but while one can get close there needs to be a respect for the marine life as we are invading their habitat. Every time birds fly away or the marine mammals are scared off the rocks they expend valuable energy that they must replace and thus shouldn’t be approached too closely. When fishing around Castle Rock a kayaker should maintain the proper distance away from the Castle Rock National Wildlife Refuge.
At times a fisherman can get so caught up in the anticipation of getting on the water that they easily overlook important items. I’ve heard of a kayaker having a ‘paddle malfunction’ and realized after putting their kayak in the water that they had left their paddle at home. But, that’s not as bad as the guy that was putting his kayak in the water to go fishing and discovered that he’d left his fishing pole on his front porch at his house.
We live in a beautiful area that merits being explored by any means available. A kayak allows us explore, fish, get exercise, and enjoy our local piece of heaven. Try it, your ‘Fun Meter’ will be off the scale. You will feel powerful, but yet at peace paddling our local waters.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Rant
I thought of something that makes me barking mad, but I'm not sure why. I was driving back from town this morning I saw something that I hadn’t noticed before. One block away from one of two local “Collectives” is the Social Security office.
Frankly, I’m kind of slow. When the Del Norte Collective first put their sign out and opened for business I thought that it was a new twist on another name for an antique store. Too many antique stores is another rant that I could go off on but won’t for now. I think that anyone that can come up with new twists on language is brilliant. I did think it was somewhat odd that they weren’t advertising in the paper or holding a grand opening or even displaying any of their products where customers could see them. In fact their window were shuttered and barred and the entry doors were none too friendly looking. Later I found out that this was the type of business that information spreads by word of mouth on a need-to-know basis.
Anyway, it made me wonder how many people on Social Security or Disability use the services of collectives such as this. Which led me to think about the importance of education and work. If a person doesn’t prepare themselves they conceivably enter the job market with a disorder before they even start working. A disorder that very well may preclude them from ever working!
I don’t want to give doctors any ideas, but can’t you just see it now? A doctor diagnoses someone with PWSD (Pre-Work Stress Disorder) and with that ‘disorder’ they file for Disability before they start working and never enter the job market but only know where the local collective and the Social Security Office is at!
Rant over.
Frankly, I’m kind of slow. When the Del Norte Collective first put their sign out and opened for business I thought that it was a new twist on another name for an antique store. Too many antique stores is another rant that I could go off on but won’t for now. I think that anyone that can come up with new twists on language is brilliant. I did think it was somewhat odd that they weren’t advertising in the paper or holding a grand opening or even displaying any of their products where customers could see them. In fact their window were shuttered and barred and the entry doors were none too friendly looking. Later I found out that this was the type of business that information spreads by word of mouth on a need-to-know basis.
Anyway, it made me wonder how many people on Social Security or Disability use the services of collectives such as this. Which led me to think about the importance of education and work. If a person doesn’t prepare themselves they conceivably enter the job market with a disorder before they even start working. A disorder that very well may preclude them from ever working!
I don’t want to give doctors any ideas, but can’t you just see it now? A doctor diagnoses someone with PWSD (Pre-Work Stress Disorder) and with that ‘disorder’ they file for Disability before they start working and never enter the job market but only know where the local collective and the Social Security Office is at!
Rant over.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Shovel Liquidation Sale
Sandi was right again. While I was at Chuck’s I was digging in the backyard looking for the source of a persistent water leak. I guess it’s only persistent if 10 years counts as persistent. He’s mentioned it just about every time I’ve visited there. Don’t call me a genius or anything, but something tells me that he’s possibly asking my advice what I’d do about it. Anyway, while I was there this time I started digging. I really didn’t get very far. Just far enough for someone to trip in if they were walking around (prowling) in his back yard at night. My back started spasming in its all-too-common fashion where it forms into this attractive S-shape that hurts and the only thing that helps is to stop digging and take some muscle relaxant pills. Generally it goes back in its usual shape after a few days of doing the whale thing and laying around.
I told Sandi about what I’d done to make it hurt and her reply was, “That’s funny, here you can go hiking, kayaking, get wood, and play and your back doesn’t hurt. You pick up a shovel and start digging and suddenly you hurt your back!”
Call it an epiphany, a revelation, an awakening, a message from above, but I think the answer to saving my back is to have a shovel liquidation sale. Need any shovels?
I told Sandi about what I’d done to make it hurt and her reply was, “That’s funny, here you can go hiking, kayaking, get wood, and play and your back doesn’t hurt. You pick up a shovel and start digging and suddenly you hurt your back!”
Call it an epiphany, a revelation, an awakening, a message from above, but I think the answer to saving my back is to have a shovel liquidation sale. Need any shovels?
Monday, July 12, 2010
Youngs Valley
Yesterday, Sunday, we went on a day hike to Youngs Valley. It was about 7 or 8 miles round trip. We hadn't been there in a few years and decided to take some friends that we had gone with before. It was nice to get out of the fog and into some high country. I replaced geocaches at Sanger Lake and Youngs Valley.
Fishing is called fishing for a reason
Rick and I went fishing off Pebble but didn't catch any fish. The last time we caught 3 black snappers each. It was very calm, but very foggy. I had my GPS and the sea lions were in fine form so we could figure out where we were. The depth finder didn't mark too many fish, but it was still enjoyable.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
The GO Road
After not having been up there in 20 years, Andrew, Calvin, and I went up there. We have been deer hunting from the other side but had never been all the way through. We got a late start and I was able to hike about 3 miles and see the southern side. We are going to go up again and hike all the way through next time.
"In the early 1960s a road was proposed that would bisect the Southern Siskiyou Mountains and connect the towns of Gasquet and Orleans, hence the name GO Road. Building this road would open up vast areas of timber to the logging industry. The plan was to start at each end and eventually connect the two roads (sort of like the trans-continental railroad). In the late 1960s and early 1970s opposition to the building of the GO Road was initiated by the Sierra Club and the Yurok Tribe. After years of litigation, construction on the road was permanently halted. The end result is a two lane paved road that ends abruptly in a thick forest. Seven miles away is another two lane road that also ends abruptly."
Monday, July 5, 2010
Nice 4th
Claudia and I took part in the Pastels in the Park over the 4th. She did a logo of the US Soccer team and I drew a picture of a Bigfoot. Sandi and I didn't go to the parade but instead went to Lyon's Ranch to see the wildflowers. Andrew, Rachael, and Alex took their rig up there as Andrew wanted to bike up the road. It was a great day to go there as it was about 75* with a light wind and no people. We had a great picnic, took a lot of nice pictures, and flew the kites. We came back in time to watch the fireworks and it was probably the coldest 4th of July I've ever experienced. The wind was blowing about 35 MPH.
This morning we went down to beachfront and picked up post-fireworks trash for about 2-1/2 hours.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Lyon's Ranch 5-21-10 Bears
Yesterday Sandi had a workshop where she had to go to in Eureka, so I went along for the ride. Actually, I was just figuring on sitting in the car and sleeping until I glanced through one of the freebie papers I picked up. Bingo, my lucky day, there was a kayak demo day going on at the waterfront. Suddenly I wasn’t sleepy anymore. I got there before they had the kayaks unloaded but left so as not to appear too overanxious or excited. I came back an hour or so later and casually walked up and asked, “Is this where the kayaks are being demoed?” “No, idiot, we just bring them down here to wash them off once a year,” was the smart-ass reply, “Want to wash one?”
Anyway, after paddling about 8 kayaks I finally left. It was a lot of fun. There were only about 7 that I really liked.
On the way back to home we drove up to Lyons Ranch again. We had been there two weeks earlier to see the Lupines. We thought that now they would really be in full bloom. It actually got pretty cold the higher we got. The Lupines were still not in full bloom and we came to the conclusion that it has been too cold for the flowers this year. In fact, there was snow at the top. It was odd to see snow so late in the year.
On the way back down we saw a mother bear with two cubs. One of the cubs was a real light tan colored cub about the same shade as Omaha, our dog. They ran off the road before we could get too close to them. We drove up to the point where we saw them disappear into the trees and before I could get the car stopped Sandi bailed out of the car and into the trees.
That’s right, she broke the second rule of being around bears, don’t chase them. I didn’t even have the car off and she was out of the door. So, being the good husband I am I followed her out of the car and jumped into the trees putting myself between her and the bear. Actually I was just running into the woods to get a better picture but that didn’t sound as good, and it wouldn’t read as well on a tombstone. ‘Died While Protecting His Wife’ sounds better than ‘Died While Trying to Get a Picture of a Cub Bear in a Tree.’ Anyway, I did get a picture of the bear in a tree but it was a little fuzzy.
Anyway, after paddling about 8 kayaks I finally left. It was a lot of fun. There were only about 7 that I really liked.
On the way back to home we drove up to Lyons Ranch again. We had been there two weeks earlier to see the Lupines. We thought that now they would really be in full bloom. It actually got pretty cold the higher we got. The Lupines were still not in full bloom and we came to the conclusion that it has been too cold for the flowers this year. In fact, there was snow at the top. It was odd to see snow so late in the year.
On the way back down we saw a mother bear with two cubs. One of the cubs was a real light tan colored cub about the same shade as Omaha, our dog. They ran off the road before we could get too close to them. We drove up to the point where we saw them disappear into the trees and before I could get the car stopped Sandi bailed out of the car and into the trees.
That’s right, she broke the second rule of being around bears, don’t chase them. I didn’t even have the car off and she was out of the door. So, being the good husband I am I followed her out of the car and jumped into the trees putting myself between her and the bear. Actually I was just running into the woods to get a better picture but that didn’t sound as good, and it wouldn’t read as well on a tombstone. ‘Died While Protecting His Wife’ sounds better than ‘Died While Trying to Get a Picture of a Cub Bear in a Tree.’ Anyway, I did get a picture of the bear in a tree but it was a little fuzzy.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Lyon's Ranch 5-7-10
First trip to see the Lupines. It's a bit early, but we managed to enjoy ourselves.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
My 'graduation' acknowledgement
Everyone that completes the proton treatment is offered the opportunity to say how the treatment was for them for the benefit of those starting the process. I think that 6 other guys completed their procedures today. This is what I said:
If God isn’t in this place, he has to be pretty darn close. With the care and attitude of everyone here; the techs, the office staff, and basically everyone, they’re the best. They made a difficult situation very doable and they were always very professional. Thank you.
Isn’t Psalms the book of thanksgiving? Don’t worry what I have to say it’s only slightly longer! Not really.
If I seem a little giddy it’s because it’s my very last day. Since this is my last day, yes, you can imagine….my sphincter muscle is doing flip-flops it‘s so excited..
Before I started this journey I didn’t even know I had a prostate.
But, now that I think about it, I know just the day the biology instructor was talking about it. It was the day that he pulled a cadaver out of a drawer and said something like, “Today we’re going to learn internal body parts by taking them out and replacing them from Max here, our resident cadaver.” I remember raising my hand and saying “Excuse me, but I’m feeling a little queasy, I don’t want to end up prostrate on the floor, I think I need to go weigh myself.”
I distinctly remember the scale didn’t work very well, and I didn’t come back until the next day. Yes, I’m sure that was the day he said something about where a prostate is at.
After the doctor was done with my prostate biopsy and I was walking out bow-legged after the procedure, I was sure I would never forget where my prostate was located. I, like you, probably looked like a drunken cowboy who had just got off his horse when I walked out of his office.
A “digital exam” doesn’t quite tell the entire story. You can bet, when the doctor says “pucker up” you ain’t gonna get a kiss.
Call me a pansy, but I really think that they should put you out for things like this, since they do it for a colonoscopy.
Or, at least offer you the option of laughing gas, because it sure isn’t a laughing matter to begin with, and you should at least be able to end up that way.
By the way, I’m getting a great tan. Unfortunately it’s only about the size of my prostate and it’s only on each hip.
In closing, the only thing lacking here is a T-shirt to remember the experience. Something like, “The end is always near with proton therapy.” I’m sure the techs could come up with a million great sayings. Thank you.
If God isn’t in this place, he has to be pretty darn close. With the care and attitude of everyone here; the techs, the office staff, and basically everyone, they’re the best. They made a difficult situation very doable and they were always very professional. Thank you.
Isn’t Psalms the book of thanksgiving? Don’t worry what I have to say it’s only slightly longer! Not really.
If I seem a little giddy it’s because it’s my very last day. Since this is my last day, yes, you can imagine….my sphincter muscle is doing flip-flops it‘s so excited..
Before I started this journey I didn’t even know I had a prostate.
But, now that I think about it, I know just the day the biology instructor was talking about it. It was the day that he pulled a cadaver out of a drawer and said something like, “Today we’re going to learn internal body parts by taking them out and replacing them from Max here, our resident cadaver.” I remember raising my hand and saying “Excuse me, but I’m feeling a little queasy, I don’t want to end up prostrate on the floor, I think I need to go weigh myself.”
I distinctly remember the scale didn’t work very well, and I didn’t come back until the next day. Yes, I’m sure that was the day he said something about where a prostate is at.
After the doctor was done with my prostate biopsy and I was walking out bow-legged after the procedure, I was sure I would never forget where my prostate was located. I, like you, probably looked like a drunken cowboy who had just got off his horse when I walked out of his office.
A “digital exam” doesn’t quite tell the entire story. You can bet, when the doctor says “pucker up” you ain’t gonna get a kiss.
Call me a pansy, but I really think that they should put you out for things like this, since they do it for a colonoscopy.
Or, at least offer you the option of laughing gas, because it sure isn’t a laughing matter to begin with, and you should at least be able to end up that way.
By the way, I’m getting a great tan. Unfortunately it’s only about the size of my prostate and it’s only on each hip.
In closing, the only thing lacking here is a T-shirt to remember the experience. Something like, “The end is always near with proton therapy.” I’m sure the techs could come up with a million great sayings. Thank you.
My 45th and last proton treatment is tomorrow!
I’ve endeavored to acknowledge all the kindnesses I have received since being here receiving proton treatment for prostate cancer. If I haven’t, please consider this as a general ‘Thank you” to all that took the time to show your care, concern, compassion, support, and empathy. You’ve exhibited the ‘Golden Rule.’ I hope I can return the gestures.
Thanks for all the well-wishes, cards, books, magazines, e-mails, letters, cookies, and phone calls. It made my time down here much more enjoyable and helped to pass the time. Oddly enough, depression is a possible side-effect of this type of therapy. Just about the time I’d be feeling down someone would always manage to pick my spirits up. It forever changes how I will deal with others that are dealing with a life-threatening experience, especially when they’re away from family.
Having treatment at a hospital is a real wake-up call to the frailty of life, especially having treatments in the evening when the only entrance that’s open makes me walk by body bags of people that, for whatever reason, completed their experience here. It’s a sobering experience and forced me to be more introspective. Also, hearing the helicopters delivering trauma patients is a constant reminder that someone always has it worse than me.
I’m just glad that the time here is almost over, and I can go back to my real life.
Thanks again,
Jim
Thanks for all the well-wishes, cards, books, magazines, e-mails, letters, cookies, and phone calls. It made my time down here much more enjoyable and helped to pass the time. Oddly enough, depression is a possible side-effect of this type of therapy. Just about the time I’d be feeling down someone would always manage to pick my spirits up. It forever changes how I will deal with others that are dealing with a life-threatening experience, especially when they’re away from family.
Having treatment at a hospital is a real wake-up call to the frailty of life, especially having treatments in the evening when the only entrance that’s open makes me walk by body bags of people that, for whatever reason, completed their experience here. It’s a sobering experience and forced me to be more introspective. Also, hearing the helicopters delivering trauma patients is a constant reminder that someone always has it worse than me.
I’m just glad that the time here is almost over, and I can go back to my real life.
Thanks again,
Jim
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Full really does mean Full this week!
Oh, great! I go to Death Valley National Park last week, pay my $20, and this week they’re opening the park up to free admission. In fact, they’re opening all the National Parks up to free admittance. Maybe I’ll NEED to go to Joshua Tree National Park again.
Since it really is my last weekend here I wanted to do something that I’ve been putting off. When Sandi was here we drove over to Palm Springs and drove up to the Palm Springs Tram. We didn’t go up as we hadn’t prepared for the cooler weather at the top of the mountain. Then we drove over to Joshua Tree National Park where even though it is a desert environment it was cold and snowed on us. The huge rocks, seemingly out of place were amazing.
Geologists believe that the rocks now on the surface were molten many years ago. The rocks developed vertical cracks through ground water percolating down. With a combination of tectonic pressure moving the rocks up ward and the natural weathering of erosion through wind and water the rocks are silent sentinels to the naturals processes of nature. I had to see both places again.
The Palm Springs Tramway goes through 5 biomes starting in a desert biome all the way up to an alpine biome. It was 80* at the bottom and 50* at the top. I went prepared with long pants, hoodie, heavy jacket but was overdressed for the temperature at the top. It was a beautiful clear day with end of the season snow at the top. The area reminded me of a number of places; Lassen Park, south end of the GO Road, Hooper Peak. You could really see and feel the coming of spring and the change of seasons. I walked south down a snow-covered mountain meadow away from the people until I ran out of the tracks of previous people and couldn’t hear any visitors. All I could hear were the sounds of silence, the birds calling out to each other and the squirrels arguing with each other. It was one of those quiet and yet excitingly calming experiences.
I drove to Joshua Tree National Monument and saw that upon entering the park there was a sign posted that said ‘All Campgrounds Full.’ I had hoped that since I had arrived about 3:00 PM there may be some sites still available, but such was not the case. Since the park is a relatively small park with only about 25 miles of roads it’s pretty quick to drive through. I stopped at as many informational signs as I could and got out and walked around at both promising and unpromising spots, all beautiful and intriguing. Driving through all the campgrounds I found out that “All Campgrounds Full” really meant it. I guess other people heard about the ‘Free National Park Week’ too. What do you expect when there are about a zillion people living within a 100 miles of here. The last time we were here there weren’t any flowers blooming as it was too cold. This time there were some small cactuses with red flowers were blooming.
Since it really is my last weekend here I wanted to do something that I’ve been putting off. When Sandi was here we drove over to Palm Springs and drove up to the Palm Springs Tram. We didn’t go up as we hadn’t prepared for the cooler weather at the top of the mountain. Then we drove over to Joshua Tree National Park where even though it is a desert environment it was cold and snowed on us. The huge rocks, seemingly out of place were amazing.
Geologists believe that the rocks now on the surface were molten many years ago. The rocks developed vertical cracks through ground water percolating down. With a combination of tectonic pressure moving the rocks up ward and the natural weathering of erosion through wind and water the rocks are silent sentinels to the naturals processes of nature. I had to see both places again.
The Palm Springs Tramway goes through 5 biomes starting in a desert biome all the way up to an alpine biome. It was 80* at the bottom and 50* at the top. I went prepared with long pants, hoodie, heavy jacket but was overdressed for the temperature at the top. It was a beautiful clear day with end of the season snow at the top. The area reminded me of a number of places; Lassen Park, south end of the GO Road, Hooper Peak. You could really see and feel the coming of spring and the change of seasons. I walked south down a snow-covered mountain meadow away from the people until I ran out of the tracks of previous people and couldn’t hear any visitors. All I could hear were the sounds of silence, the birds calling out to each other and the squirrels arguing with each other. It was one of those quiet and yet excitingly calming experiences.
I drove to Joshua Tree National Monument and saw that upon entering the park there was a sign posted that said ‘All Campgrounds Full.’ I had hoped that since I had arrived about 3:00 PM there may be some sites still available, but such was not the case. Since the park is a relatively small park with only about 25 miles of roads it’s pretty quick to drive through. I stopped at as many informational signs as I could and got out and walked around at both promising and unpromising spots, all beautiful and intriguing. Driving through all the campgrounds I found out that “All Campgrounds Full” really meant it. I guess other people heard about the ‘Free National Park Week’ too. What do you expect when there are about a zillion people living within a 100 miles of here. The last time we were here there weren’t any flowers blooming as it was too cold. This time there were some small cactuses with red flowers were blooming.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Valley of Death
Since I had only two weekends left here I wanted to go see Death Valley on one of them. I'd heard that the wildflowers may be in bloom in the early spring. I'd hoped that Sandi and I could have made the trip while she was here, but it’s really too long of a trip for one day. It’s farther than I had thought it was. It’s about a 4-½ hour trip from Loma Linda and about 8-½ hours from Sacramento.
I called Andrew about some things I should see there and what to do since he‘s been there before. The first thing he said was to get a campsite ahead of time. As this was Saturday morning and I was leaving in about 20 minutes there really wasn’t much time left. I got on the Death Valley National Park web site and tried to reserve a spot. No luck. As soon as I arrived there I went to the first campground I saw at Furnace Creek with trees and asked about any tent sites even though the reader board said the campground was full. (“Does Full really mean full?“) The temp was about 70* and the wind was pretty gusty to put it mildly. Standing in front of a sandblaster would be a more apt description. There weren’t any tent sites only one regular campsite with a picnic table. As I was soon to find out, there was a reason it was vacant.
The wind was blowing…hard. I was hoping that as the evening came on the winds would diminish. I decided to go to the Visitor Center to get a map showing the sites nearby. I then drove north along the lake and stopped to walk down to see how salty it really was. I parked the car along the road and walked toward the lake. The closer I got the farther away the lake moved. On the way down I saw that the shore was covered with this crystalline snow-like substance. The ‘lake’ turned out to be salt and borax crystals. It was neat, eerie, and awe-inspiring. Just about every creek, mountain, road, or trail’s name is related to two things, death or heat; Fire Mountain, Sweltering Road, No Water Creek, Skeleton Bend, Inferno Trail. You get the impression that a lot of people have died here.
I continued driving north and stopped at as many monuments and informational turnoffs as I could. There was one called Salt Creek just off the road. There is an actual creek that flows into the valley with a boardwalk along the creek where you can view some small desert pupfish fish that live in the creek. The water is so salty that these are the only types of organisms that can inhabit it. In fact, it is 5 times as salty as the ocean. I didn’t test that, I just believed what the brochure said. It’s kind of amazing as Death Valley is a closed system in that there are not any water outlets that flow to the ocean. They geologists believe that at one point after the Ice Age it was a lake that had an outflow into what we call today the Colorado River. The lake was called Manley Lake. The water that is lost is lost through evaporation and seepage.
One of the places that I wanted to see was the ‘Racetrack.’ That’s where there are rock tracks in the dry lake floor that appear to be from the rocks having been pushed, but no one has ever seen it. Anyway, it looks neat, but it meant driving on a gravel road for 26 miles. The road guidelines recommend that RVs and cars should not take the road. This has made me rethink about what kind of RV to get. I think we should get a van or a pickup capable of carrying a camper. I think that this trip will have to wait for when Sandi is here as I do think it warrants another visit.
Instead, I stopped at Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes. The wind at the dunes was calm, and I hoped that the wind was diminishing back at the campground. I walked out on the dunes and took a bunch of pictures. When I got back to the campground the wind seemed to have picked up. It was on toward dusk so I decided to try to set the tent up. I would wait until the wind died down a little then I would do one step of the process. About the time I got the tent spread out ready to put the poles in the wind came up again. I sat down on the tent and felt like I was on a bucking bronco with the tent flapping around me. When the wind died down again I hurriedly threaded the poles in and managed to get one side up. About that time the wind gusted up again and I felt like a piece of laundry on the clothesline for about 5 minutes until it calmed back down. When it calmed back down I looked like a piece of dirty laundry. I finally got the tent set up and threw everything from the car into the tent in hopes that it wouldn’t blow away and end up in Las Vegas. I would have tied the tent to the car, but I wouldn’t have wanted to wake up in the night after finding out the car had been pulled over on me.
After I had everything in the tent I broke out the camp stove and boiled some water to make some macaroni and cheese. The water had just about reached a boil when a big gust of wind blew it off the stove onto the ground. I finally got some water heated up after rigging up a wind block from the only box I hadn’t put into the tent. It was a long night with the poles of the tent making ditches in the ground from being swept around all night. I managed to wedge myself in between all the boxes, bags, and crates that I had thrown in there. From the outside I’m sure the tent looked like a flattened lumpy tarp with just the shape of my nose outlined all night like a rudder cutting the wind. Now I know how Dorothy from ‘The Wizard of Oz’ must have felt. I even think I saw a dog that looked something like Toto go sailing by.
Sunday morning finally came and the wind was still blowing. I wrapped the tent up and threw it into the back of the car and drove over to the store to buy some coffee. I drove north again stopping at some places I had missed the afternoon before. I ended up at a place called Mosaic Canyon. It is a colorful marble canyon cut by water, dirt, and gravels that have washed down from the peaks above. It’s neat because it is smoothly polished from the action of the rock. There is a place to stop ¼ mile in and then there’s a place to stop 1-½ miles in. I walked up all the way and it was worth every drop of sweat doing it. By the way, I thought of a good money maker or at least a way to pay for traveling. Walk to the end of a trail like this with a case of cold beer. Sell beer for $5 apiece and be everyone’s hero. Win win for everyone!
Anyway, it was a good trip, and I’m glad that I did it. I did manage to collect a few neat rocks. The car probably looked like a dog scratching his bum as I drove down the freeway with the headlights seemingly on permanent high beam.
Did I mention that the wind blows that the wind blows 24/7 at Death Valley?
A link to the pictures. Click on the pic.
I called Andrew about some things I should see there and what to do since he‘s been there before. The first thing he said was to get a campsite ahead of time. As this was Saturday morning and I was leaving in about 20 minutes there really wasn’t much time left. I got on the Death Valley National Park web site and tried to reserve a spot. No luck. As soon as I arrived there I went to the first campground I saw at Furnace Creek with trees and asked about any tent sites even though the reader board said the campground was full. (“Does Full really mean full?“) The temp was about 70* and the wind was pretty gusty to put it mildly. Standing in front of a sandblaster would be a more apt description. There weren’t any tent sites only one regular campsite with a picnic table. As I was soon to find out, there was a reason it was vacant.
The wind was blowing…hard. I was hoping that as the evening came on the winds would diminish. I decided to go to the Visitor Center to get a map showing the sites nearby. I then drove north along the lake and stopped to walk down to see how salty it really was. I parked the car along the road and walked toward the lake. The closer I got the farther away the lake moved. On the way down I saw that the shore was covered with this crystalline snow-like substance. The ‘lake’ turned out to be salt and borax crystals. It was neat, eerie, and awe-inspiring. Just about every creek, mountain, road, or trail’s name is related to two things, death or heat; Fire Mountain, Sweltering Road, No Water Creek, Skeleton Bend, Inferno Trail. You get the impression that a lot of people have died here.
I continued driving north and stopped at as many monuments and informational turnoffs as I could. There was one called Salt Creek just off the road. There is an actual creek that flows into the valley with a boardwalk along the creek where you can view some small desert pupfish fish that live in the creek. The water is so salty that these are the only types of organisms that can inhabit it. In fact, it is 5 times as salty as the ocean. I didn’t test that, I just believed what the brochure said. It’s kind of amazing as Death Valley is a closed system in that there are not any water outlets that flow to the ocean. They geologists believe that at one point after the Ice Age it was a lake that had an outflow into what we call today the Colorado River. The lake was called Manley Lake. The water that is lost is lost through evaporation and seepage.
One of the places that I wanted to see was the ‘Racetrack.’ That’s where there are rock tracks in the dry lake floor that appear to be from the rocks having been pushed, but no one has ever seen it. Anyway, it looks neat, but it meant driving on a gravel road for 26 miles. The road guidelines recommend that RVs and cars should not take the road. This has made me rethink about what kind of RV to get. I think we should get a van or a pickup capable of carrying a camper. I think that this trip will have to wait for when Sandi is here as I do think it warrants another visit.
Instead, I stopped at Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes. The wind at the dunes was calm, and I hoped that the wind was diminishing back at the campground. I walked out on the dunes and took a bunch of pictures. When I got back to the campground the wind seemed to have picked up. It was on toward dusk so I decided to try to set the tent up. I would wait until the wind died down a little then I would do one step of the process. About the time I got the tent spread out ready to put the poles in the wind came up again. I sat down on the tent and felt like I was on a bucking bronco with the tent flapping around me. When the wind died down again I hurriedly threaded the poles in and managed to get one side up. About that time the wind gusted up again and I felt like a piece of laundry on the clothesline for about 5 minutes until it calmed back down. When it calmed back down I looked like a piece of dirty laundry. I finally got the tent set up and threw everything from the car into the tent in hopes that it wouldn’t blow away and end up in Las Vegas. I would have tied the tent to the car, but I wouldn’t have wanted to wake up in the night after finding out the car had been pulled over on me.
After I had everything in the tent I broke out the camp stove and boiled some water to make some macaroni and cheese. The water had just about reached a boil when a big gust of wind blew it off the stove onto the ground. I finally got some water heated up after rigging up a wind block from the only box I hadn’t put into the tent. It was a long night with the poles of the tent making ditches in the ground from being swept around all night. I managed to wedge myself in between all the boxes, bags, and crates that I had thrown in there. From the outside I’m sure the tent looked like a flattened lumpy tarp with just the shape of my nose outlined all night like a rudder cutting the wind. Now I know how Dorothy from ‘The Wizard of Oz’ must have felt. I even think I saw a dog that looked something like Toto go sailing by.
Sunday morning finally came and the wind was still blowing. I wrapped the tent up and threw it into the back of the car and drove over to the store to buy some coffee. I drove north again stopping at some places I had missed the afternoon before. I ended up at a place called Mosaic Canyon. It is a colorful marble canyon cut by water, dirt, and gravels that have washed down from the peaks above. It’s neat because it is smoothly polished from the action of the rock. There is a place to stop ¼ mile in and then there’s a place to stop 1-½ miles in. I walked up all the way and it was worth every drop of sweat doing it. By the way, I thought of a good money maker or at least a way to pay for traveling. Walk to the end of a trail like this with a case of cold beer. Sell beer for $5 apiece and be everyone’s hero. Win win for everyone!
Anyway, it was a good trip, and I’m glad that I did it. I did manage to collect a few neat rocks. The car probably looked like a dog scratching his bum as I drove down the freeway with the headlights seemingly on permanent high beam.
Did I mention that the wind blows that the wind blows 24/7 at Death Valley?
A link to the pictures. Click on the pic.
 |
| 4-11-10 Death Valley |
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Truth is Below the Surface
There is a Buddhist Proverb that says, ‘When the student is ready the master will come.’ I don‘t proclaim to be a Buddhist, but I do proclaim to be a seeker of truth. I believe that there is truthfulness in this proverb. I believe that I am down in Loma Linda for more than just my prostate treatment. I sense that there is a lesson that I am to learn or some knowledge I am to gain. Maybe an experience that I am supposed to go through. Whatever it is, while I am here I want to be ready for it whatever it is.
Friday, March 19, 2010
The YMCA, the YMCA .....not really, but it's a gym.
The first few days after I started working out at the gym I felt like I had been subjected to some new type of old Medieval torture racks. In fact, during the first week all the gym equipment looked like torture machines that could exact whatever a person would want to know from someone using them. Kind of like water boarding but something that a person does to themselves.
I don’t know exactly how many muscles a human body has, but I think the gym has a separate machine for every one of them. By the cries of pain from some of the people using them I have to believe they must hurt if they’re used incorrectly, so you must use them correctly so a person doesn’t do undo damage to themselves. I generally gauge if I want to use a machine based on the decibel of screams when people use them. The louder they scream the less inclined I am to using them.
These last few weeks that I used the gym I’ve felt tired but haven’t felt sore. I guess that’s an improvement. I’ll take tired over sore any day. Haven’t walked the track in the evening lately as I don’t want to run into any rogue Ninja bunnies seeking revenge for something they think I may have done. Easter is coming and I don’t want to piss any rabbits off.
I don’t know exactly how many muscles a human body has, but I think the gym has a separate machine for every one of them. By the cries of pain from some of the people using them I have to believe they must hurt if they’re used incorrectly, so you must use them correctly so a person doesn’t do undo damage to themselves. I generally gauge if I want to use a machine based on the decibel of screams when people use them. The louder they scream the less inclined I am to using them.
These last few weeks that I used the gym I’ve felt tired but haven’t felt sore. I guess that’s an improvement. I’ll take tired over sore any day. Haven’t walked the track in the evening lately as I don’t want to run into any rogue Ninja bunnies seeking revenge for something they think I may have done. Easter is coming and I don’t want to piss any rabbits off.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Anniversay / Trip to LAX
Since March 17 was our anniversary and I knew that I'd be feeling down for not being with HB I decided to do something instead of moping around. It is our 31st anniversary and it just seems like yesterday that we were married and living in a 28' travel trailer. We've come a long way. I'm planning to fly home in about 10 days and Sandi fly back with me. I hope that it works out.
I guess I hadn’t been feeling enough stress, so I decided to on a reconnoitering trip and go to LAX via mass transit. I wanted to see if I could find my way to LAX and see how difficult it would be if I really needed to do it.
I left my apartment about 11:45 AM and drove about a 20 minutes to the eastern-most terminus of the Metro line in San Bernardino. After a few questions I figured out how to use the automated ticket machine and bought the $11 ticket to some place called Union Station. After about a 40 minute wait the train finally arrived, or maybe I just arrived 40 minutes too early. (Lv 1:00 PM) As I found out, Union Station is for anyone coming into or going out of the greater LA area. From there you can take a bus, taxi, van, or another train to your final destination. (Ar 2:30 PM) I arrived there and managed to find the FlyAway van to the airport and bought a $14 round-trip ticket.
After another 20 minute wait I boarded the bus and saw what was it was like to drive a bus in rush hour traffic. This guy wasn’t intimidated by the traffic he just put is put his blinker on and started moving over when he needed to. The driver dropped me off at the arrival gates and I walked down to the departure gates to get on another one going back. (Ar 3:40 PM) Just as I got there the bus going back to Union Station was just pulling out and so I had to wait an hour for the next one to come (Lv 4:45 PM). It’s a good thing I wasn’t in a hurry to get back. My appointment was at 11:15 PM so I knew that I’d have plenty of time to get back. I got back to Union Station and waited for the next eastbound train to San Bernardino (Ar 5:35 PM).
(Lv 6:00 PM) The train was pretty full going back to San Bernardino as this looked like a train that a lot of people that work take to get back home. By the looks of these people it gives me a new-found respect for those that have to do this every day. I felt like I worked an entire day and all I did was ride the bus/train all day. (Ar 7:40 PM) The train arrived back at San Bernardino when it was dark. I was hungry as I had been somewhat hesitant to leave the boarding area, as it seemed that the train or bus left whenever I was farthest away. Anyway, I got back to my apartment and my stress factor immediately went down again.
I guess I hadn’t been feeling enough stress, so I decided to on a reconnoitering trip and go to LAX via mass transit. I wanted to see if I could find my way to LAX and see how difficult it would be if I really needed to do it.
I left my apartment about 11:45 AM and drove about a 20 minutes to the eastern-most terminus of the Metro line in San Bernardino. After a few questions I figured out how to use the automated ticket machine and bought the $11 ticket to some place called Union Station. After about a 40 minute wait the train finally arrived, or maybe I just arrived 40 minutes too early. (Lv 1:00 PM) As I found out, Union Station is for anyone coming into or going out of the greater LA area. From there you can take a bus, taxi, van, or another train to your final destination. (Ar 2:30 PM) I arrived there and managed to find the FlyAway van to the airport and bought a $14 round-trip ticket.
After another 20 minute wait I boarded the bus and saw what was it was like to drive a bus in rush hour traffic. This guy wasn’t intimidated by the traffic he just put is put his blinker on and started moving over when he needed to. The driver dropped me off at the arrival gates and I walked down to the departure gates to get on another one going back. (Ar 3:40 PM) Just as I got there the bus going back to Union Station was just pulling out and so I had to wait an hour for the next one to come (Lv 4:45 PM). It’s a good thing I wasn’t in a hurry to get back. My appointment was at 11:15 PM so I knew that I’d have plenty of time to get back. I got back to Union Station and waited for the next eastbound train to San Bernardino (Ar 5:35 PM).
(Lv 6:00 PM) The train was pretty full going back to San Bernardino as this looked like a train that a lot of people that work take to get back home. By the looks of these people it gives me a new-found respect for those that have to do this every day. I felt like I worked an entire day and all I did was ride the bus/train all day. (Ar 7:40 PM) The train arrived back at San Bernardino when it was dark. I was hungry as I had been somewhat hesitant to leave the boarding area, as it seemed that the train or bus left whenever I was farthest away. Anyway, I got back to my apartment and my stress factor immediately went down again.
The treatment process
For those that are interested in what is involved in the proton treatments, this is what it’s like.
First, all treatment patients are given a time to receive treatment anywhere from 5AM to 11 PM. Since there are always patients completing their treatment plans, there are time slots that come up throughout those times. My treatment times have all been in the evening, except for my initial treatment which was at 9:30 AM. A patient is given a specific time, but are requested to be there 30 minutes early in the event they are ahead of schedule, which they often are. You check into the waiting room with the receptionist and are called back when they are ready.
The first step in the treatment is to go into the changing room, undress and change into a hospital gown. Yes, one that opens in the back and doesn’t have buttons, strips, or Velcro to close it. Yes, they are still drafty. They all have strings that are too short. They still haven't improved on the hospital gowns since the time of Florence Nightengale they've been stuck on the same style.
You then go to a room that is somewhat like the transport room on the Star Wars set. On one side of the room there are computers, screens, monitors, and other types of display systems. On the other side is what looks like the inside of a huge washing machine about 10’ in diameter on its side without the agitator in the middle. Or, if this makes it more palatable, visualize this; think of the inside of a donut with white smooth frosting on the inside. It really has nothing to do with a washing machine or a donut, it only reminds me of one.
There is a large sliding mechanism (think of a maple bar if this helps) where they put you into this form that holds a half piece of PVC pipe about 24” in diameter and 7’ long that slides into the large washing machine / donut looking thing. Each patient has their own half tube as it is form-fitted to each person. On my initial visit they put a piece of plastic sheeting in the tube and had me lie down in it. They then poured quick setting foam into it to fill in any of the void area. This way it is formed fitted and helps them to align your body consistently each treatment.
There is a gray plastic 2’ square screen on the left which I imagine is some type of lead shield and a metal camera lens looking thing on the opposite side. That’s the thing where the protons are actually emitted from. Both of these things rotate from side to side daily so the treatment is given equally. It’s different than other radiation treatment machines where there is only minimal room when you go into a tube-like machine. In this case if I reached out to touch the sides I’d still be about 4’ short of reaching them.
There are 4 technicians in lab coats that manage varying parts of the procedure; putting the form in place, adjusting a patients hips for proper alignment, lining up the proton nozzle, calibrating the instruments, and checking for proper dosage, etc.
They then slip this lead shield type thing into the front of the nozzle that is the same size and shape as the patients prostate. I must say I think that I have a superior shape prostate. It kind of looks like a walnut. The purpose of this thing is to assure that the proton radiation is focused only on a specific area.
During this time the techs are telling you a joke or talking about things that are going on in their lives.
It's just like getting x-rays taken at the dentists office except for the fact that you're getting it done without any clothes on and you're bare naked lying in a coffin-like molded plastic piece of half-rounded PVC pipe and they aren't aiming anything at your mouth.
Also, there are bright red lights that cast a specific line of light to ensure that you are aligned correctly.
The techs disappear behind a lead screen in an enclosed room and a machine starts up that makes a whirring sound. From some place in the room you can hear a beeping sound that signifies the fact that there is proton radiation being emitted. After about two minutes all the whirring, beeping, and humming ceases and the techs come back into the room. You’re free to climb out of the thing and go into another room and put your clothes on while the next guy goes through the same process.
So, it's not painful or invasive, only humiliating, embarrassing, and drafty. I take that back, it is invasive. Think a colonoscopy that they don't put you out for. It's a good thing that I have a high tolerance for embarrassment. Clothes off to clothes on? About 15-20 minutes which leaves about 23 hours 40-45 minutes to actually shop for those donuts.
I guess with some guys there's a minor incontinence problem. In fact, someone that had the treatment put together a flyer that lists all the public bathrooms within a 5 mile radius of the hospital. I’m going to improve it by mapping all the trees too.
First, all treatment patients are given a time to receive treatment anywhere from 5AM to 11 PM. Since there are always patients completing their treatment plans, there are time slots that come up throughout those times. My treatment times have all been in the evening, except for my initial treatment which was at 9:30 AM. A patient is given a specific time, but are requested to be there 30 minutes early in the event they are ahead of schedule, which they often are. You check into the waiting room with the receptionist and are called back when they are ready.
The first step in the treatment is to go into the changing room, undress and change into a hospital gown. Yes, one that opens in the back and doesn’t have buttons, strips, or Velcro to close it. Yes, they are still drafty. They all have strings that are too short. They still haven't improved on the hospital gowns since the time of Florence Nightengale they've been stuck on the same style.
You then go to a room that is somewhat like the transport room on the Star Wars set. On one side of the room there are computers, screens, monitors, and other types of display systems. On the other side is what looks like the inside of a huge washing machine about 10’ in diameter on its side without the agitator in the middle. Or, if this makes it more palatable, visualize this; think of the inside of a donut with white smooth frosting on the inside. It really has nothing to do with a washing machine or a donut, it only reminds me of one.
There is a large sliding mechanism (think of a maple bar if this helps) where they put you into this form that holds a half piece of PVC pipe about 24” in diameter and 7’ long that slides into the large washing machine / donut looking thing. Each patient has their own half tube as it is form-fitted to each person. On my initial visit they put a piece of plastic sheeting in the tube and had me lie down in it. They then poured quick setting foam into it to fill in any of the void area. This way it is formed fitted and helps them to align your body consistently each treatment.
There is a gray plastic 2’ square screen on the left which I imagine is some type of lead shield and a metal camera lens looking thing on the opposite side. That’s the thing where the protons are actually emitted from. Both of these things rotate from side to side daily so the treatment is given equally. It’s different than other radiation treatment machines where there is only minimal room when you go into a tube-like machine. In this case if I reached out to touch the sides I’d still be about 4’ short of reaching them.
There are 4 technicians in lab coats that manage varying parts of the procedure; putting the form in place, adjusting a patients hips for proper alignment, lining up the proton nozzle, calibrating the instruments, and checking for proper dosage, etc.
They then slip this lead shield type thing into the front of the nozzle that is the same size and shape as the patients prostate. I must say I think that I have a superior shape prostate. It kind of looks like a walnut. The purpose of this thing is to assure that the proton radiation is focused only on a specific area.
During this time the techs are telling you a joke or talking about things that are going on in their lives.
It's just like getting x-rays taken at the dentists office except for the fact that you're getting it done without any clothes on and you're bare naked lying in a coffin-like molded plastic piece of half-rounded PVC pipe and they aren't aiming anything at your mouth.
Also, there are bright red lights that cast a specific line of light to ensure that you are aligned correctly.
The techs disappear behind a lead screen in an enclosed room and a machine starts up that makes a whirring sound. From some place in the room you can hear a beeping sound that signifies the fact that there is proton radiation being emitted. After about two minutes all the whirring, beeping, and humming ceases and the techs come back into the room. You’re free to climb out of the thing and go into another room and put your clothes on while the next guy goes through the same process.
So, it's not painful or invasive, only humiliating, embarrassing, and drafty. I take that back, it is invasive. Think a colonoscopy that they don't put you out for. It's a good thing that I have a high tolerance for embarrassment. Clothes off to clothes on? About 15-20 minutes which leaves about 23 hours 40-45 minutes to actually shop for those donuts.
I guess with some guys there's a minor incontinence problem. In fact, someone that had the treatment put together a flyer that lists all the public bathrooms within a 5 mile radius of the hospital. I’m going to improve it by mapping all the trees too.
Friday, March 12, 2010
A quitting story in Alaska in 1977
It was when I was about 20 or 21 years old, and I had just finished a season working as a deckhand crab fishing in Crescent City. That was after my first failed attempt to finish college. My parents didn’t have the money to send, me and I didn’t want to borrow money to do it. Stupid. The skipper only needed his usual deckhand for salmon season, so I needed to find another job. He told me his brother had a 55’ boat and needed a deckhand for the upcoming Black Cod long-line season fishing out of Petersburg, Alaska. Even though Petersburg itself is inside waters they would be fishing the open water Fairweather Grounds in the Gulf of Alaska. Also, I found that a 55' boat is considered to be a small boat for the waters we were to be fishing and couldn't have agreed more.
I called him up and he said that he was leaving the day after next, and if I wanted a job be at the boat in Seattle the next evening. Well, being the impetuous youth that I was I got on the next plane to Seattle and found the boat. I don’t remember how. All I remember is working on the boat the next two weeks with 3 other crew while it was tied to the dock while the skipper was at a nearby bar drinking.
Finally we took off up the Inside Passage going up to Petersburg. It was a beautiful trip up and we only had to pull into a cove once because of bad weather. I do remember waking up the next morning anchored so close to the beach that I could have thrown a rock and hit the gravel. Meanwhile there was about 300’ of water under us. We later rowed ashore and dug a bucket of butter clams on the beach, brought them back to the boat and steamed them. As I remember it took about 3 days to run up to Petersburg.
We only stayed in Petersburg long enough to ice up and buy bait and then took off for the fishing grounds. I do remember on the way to the open water we pulled into some little island community (about 4 houses and a dock) that had a hot springs tubs that anyone could use. We did. On the way out we went by Glacier Bay and saw huge pieces of floating ice that had calved off the glaciers.
Finally we arrived at the fishing grounds about 10 miles offshore and it was really rough and sloppy. We were out there rolling around for about 5 days trying to fill the boat. All the while I was praying to God to not let me die as I knew I would. The weather was worse than any I had fished in in Crescent City and I was wondering what I had done in a previous life to deserve this. It was long-line fishing so we laid out 2 mile long strings of baited hooks and let them soak while we rolled around and tried to sleep for 4-5 hours. We then ran the gear, baited it, put it back in the water, processed the fish, and did it all over again. Since I was the new guy I got all the really lousy jobs again and again. I never saw the shore nor had anby sense of direction for those 5 day.s
When we had caught a sufficient load the skipper decided to run back to Petersburg and delivered our catch. It took us about 28 hours of running to get back to port. There were guys at the dock that unloaded so we didn’t have to do that. I got paid about $1,000 cash and walked around town to see what it was like while the skipper and crew went to the bars.
I had decided to quit, so about midnight went back to the boat and packed all my stuff up and had to climb back up about a 30’ ladder because of how low the tide had fallen. I found the Post Office the next morning (I don’t remember where I slept) and mailed my extra stuff and raingear back to Crescent City. A ferry from the Alaska Ferry System was in port and I remember walking on without a ticket like I owned the joint. I fell asleep on the ferry and woke up in some town about 12 hours south of Petersburg. I walked off the boat and bought a ticket on the next ferry going north to Skagway. I got off at Skagway and hitch-hiked to Fairbanks. It took we about 3 days. Then I bought a train ticket and rode the train to Anchorage. I remember staying in Anchorage visiting a shirt-tail relative of Dad's that was an airline pilot.
I called him up and he said that he was leaving the day after next, and if I wanted a job be at the boat in Seattle the next evening. Well, being the impetuous youth that I was I got on the next plane to Seattle and found the boat. I don’t remember how. All I remember is working on the boat the next two weeks with 3 other crew while it was tied to the dock while the skipper was at a nearby bar drinking.
Finally we took off up the Inside Passage going up to Petersburg. It was a beautiful trip up and we only had to pull into a cove once because of bad weather. I do remember waking up the next morning anchored so close to the beach that I could have thrown a rock and hit the gravel. Meanwhile there was about 300’ of water under us. We later rowed ashore and dug a bucket of butter clams on the beach, brought them back to the boat and steamed them. As I remember it took about 3 days to run up to Petersburg.
We only stayed in Petersburg long enough to ice up and buy bait and then took off for the fishing grounds. I do remember on the way to the open water we pulled into some little island community (about 4 houses and a dock) that had a hot springs tubs that anyone could use. We did. On the way out we went by Glacier Bay and saw huge pieces of floating ice that had calved off the glaciers.
Finally we arrived at the fishing grounds about 10 miles offshore and it was really rough and sloppy. We were out there rolling around for about 5 days trying to fill the boat. All the while I was praying to God to not let me die as I knew I would. The weather was worse than any I had fished in in Crescent City and I was wondering what I had done in a previous life to deserve this. It was long-line fishing so we laid out 2 mile long strings of baited hooks and let them soak while we rolled around and tried to sleep for 4-5 hours. We then ran the gear, baited it, put it back in the water, processed the fish, and did it all over again. Since I was the new guy I got all the really lousy jobs again and again. I never saw the shore nor had anby sense of direction for those 5 day.s
When we had caught a sufficient load the skipper decided to run back to Petersburg and delivered our catch. It took us about 28 hours of running to get back to port. There were guys at the dock that unloaded so we didn’t have to do that. I got paid about $1,000 cash and walked around town to see what it was like while the skipper and crew went to the bars.
I had decided to quit, so about midnight went back to the boat and packed all my stuff up and had to climb back up about a 30’ ladder because of how low the tide had fallen. I found the Post Office the next morning (I don’t remember where I slept) and mailed my extra stuff and raingear back to Crescent City. A ferry from the Alaska Ferry System was in port and I remember walking on without a ticket like I owned the joint. I fell asleep on the ferry and woke up in some town about 12 hours south of Petersburg. I walked off the boat and bought a ticket on the next ferry going north to Skagway. I got off at Skagway and hitch-hiked to Fairbanks. It took we about 3 days. Then I bought a train ticket and rode the train to Anchorage. I remember staying in Anchorage visiting a shirt-tail relative of Dad's that was an airline pilot.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Gonzo walking
http://picasaweb.google.com/randyhoop/VariousGonzalo?feat=email#slideshow/5447565699246564962
Rules, rules, rules...........
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Tues., March 9
Sandi came down last Friday and I went to pick her up at LAX. I guess there was a bet going on at home to see if I could actually find the place. Most probably thought I would get lost and end up in a frontier village in Central Mexico. Either that or the Watts district of Los Angeles. I didn’t end up at either place, I just listened to what Mavis Beacon (our GPS lady) said, and I drove right to the correct parking lot in front of the correct terminal. Of course I was there about 2 hours early as I wanted to have enough time to pry my hands off the steering wheel after the two hour drive here. On the way back it took us about 3-½ hours as we sat in the Great Los Angeles Parking Lot (alias freeway) for much of the time.
I don’t know why everyone says that LA is such an unfriendly city. People were honking and waving at me all the way here. I felt like a celebrity or something. I was making new friends all the way. Of course, I haven’t personally met any of them yet. They may have thought I was a movie star or something. Some were even waving their middle finger at me, of course it was probably just because they couldn’t get their other fingers up quick enough.
On Saturday we drove east to Palm Springs. We tried to go to Lake Arrowhead, but we were turned around by chain restrictions as it had just snowed the night before. We did visit the Palm Springs Tramway, but didn’t take it up. We marveled at all wind turbines in the area, drove around town, visited an art festival, and almost viewed the longest playing movie in town 'The Sex Life of Dates.' A town near there is reputed to be the Date Capital of the California. I'm not a big date fan as they're too close to raisins, and I'm not a big raisin fan either.
Sunday we drove out to the desert to Joshua Tree National Park and I almost froze my ass off. It got down to 33* at the higher elevations.
While at the park we saw a sign that said "Exhibit" but we drove past it as I thought it was a tad too cold for any kind of exhibiting. Maybe if we come here later on I'll consider it. I would highly recommend the park, not for exhibiting, but for its natural beauty and starkness.
I don’t know why everyone says that LA is such an unfriendly city. People were honking and waving at me all the way here. I felt like a celebrity or something. I was making new friends all the way. Of course, I haven’t personally met any of them yet. They may have thought I was a movie star or something. Some were even waving their middle finger at me, of course it was probably just because they couldn’t get their other fingers up quick enough.
On Saturday we drove east to Palm Springs. We tried to go to Lake Arrowhead, but we were turned around by chain restrictions as it had just snowed the night before. We did visit the Palm Springs Tramway, but didn’t take it up. We marveled at all wind turbines in the area, drove around town, visited an art festival, and almost viewed the longest playing movie in town 'The Sex Life of Dates.' A town near there is reputed to be the Date Capital of the California. I'm not a big date fan as they're too close to raisins, and I'm not a big raisin fan either.
Sunday we drove out to the desert to Joshua Tree National Park and I almost froze my ass off. It got down to 33* at the higher elevations.
While at the park we saw a sign that said "Exhibit" but we drove past it as I thought it was a tad too cold for any kind of exhibiting. Maybe if we come here later on I'll consider it. I would highly recommend the park, not for exhibiting, but for its natural beauty and starkness.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Wed., May 4 Evening Walk / The Heart of the World
This evening I was at the track and walked about 5 miles. When I got there the sun was just going down, and the lights were just coming on, and the bunnies were just coming out. There are two sets of lights on the field. One upper set, evidently for events, and a lower set for day-to-day operations. The lower lights cast long shadows but was very adequate to light the field. I hadn’t walked at night since I ran into all those bulls charging me where luckily I almost only suffered a flesh wound. I saw the same familiar group of people on the other side of the track but paid them no heed. After about two laps I noticed that they were catching up with me and I wondered if they recognized me and wanted to mete out some type of retribution.
After another lap I noticed that my shoelace was untied and I moved to the side of the track and started tying it. Out of the corner out of my eye I noticed movement coming toward me that looked like a shadow looming quickly directly at me. My thoughts went to the group of people that they may be rushing me. The shadow darkened over me and was getting larger, quickly. I braced for impact, or a real goring. I steeled myself and turned to meet my attacker(s).
A silhouette enveloped me as the bunny rabbit hopped to the side of the track.
I’ve been reading the book The Heart of the World, a Journey to Tibet’s Lost Paradise, by Ian Baker since I came down here. The book is 442 pages with about 2 point font. It’s been a slog; a journey of pain and difficulty accompanied by sleepless nights, and long days.
Granted, the author had his difficulties but none so difficult as reading about them. Leeches, sleeping on the cold ground, diplomatic restrictions, walking seemingly thousands of miles all to find this mythological lost paradise of Shangra-La.
It is know as beyul, hidden lands, in the Tibetan-Buddhist belief. Much like the Bermuda Triangle in the Western Hemisphere.
No, I’m not going to tell you if he found it. Just say that he ended up very content.
After another lap I noticed that my shoelace was untied and I moved to the side of the track and started tying it. Out of the corner out of my eye I noticed movement coming toward me that looked like a shadow looming quickly directly at me. My thoughts went to the group of people that they may be rushing me. The shadow darkened over me and was getting larger, quickly. I braced for impact, or a real goring. I steeled myself and turned to meet my attacker(s).
A silhouette enveloped me as the bunny rabbit hopped to the side of the track.
I’ve been reading the book The Heart of the World, a Journey to Tibet’s Lost Paradise, by Ian Baker since I came down here. The book is 442 pages with about 2 point font. It’s been a slog; a journey of pain and difficulty accompanied by sleepless nights, and long days.
Granted, the author had his difficulties but none so difficult as reading about them. Leeches, sleeping on the cold ground, diplomatic restrictions, walking seemingly thousands of miles all to find this mythological lost paradise of Shangra-La.
It is know as beyul, hidden lands, in the Tibetan-Buddhist belief. Much like the Bermuda Triangle in the Western Hemisphere.
No, I’m not going to tell you if he found it. Just say that he ended up very content.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Tues., March 2 "I'm One Elevator Gene Short"
I think I may have found a hospital with too many elevators in it. Sometimes these types of things just get out of hand. Bigger is not always better, and especially when it comes to hospitals with too many elevators. Getting where you want to go in a hospital should be pretty straight-forward, but no, they have too many ways to get to places and they don’t always lead to where a person should be. Therein lies the problem. Going to ‘B’ level at one end of a hospital may not get you to ‘B’ level at the other end of the hospital. Then, they really mix it up by throwing a bunch of random numbers in there. Some floors are for patients, some are for nurses, some, are for doctors, and some are for everyone else.
Today when I went to my appointment I left so I’d arrive a half-hour early. Thank goodness I did, because I rode the elevator for 20 minutes before I got to the floor I needed to. Everyone that got on after me wanted to go to every floor except the one I wanted. I may have a gene missing for operating elevators, but I don’t think so.
Finally after riding the elevator for 20 minutes and my dinner was up in my esophagus and then hammered into my bowels I arrived at the floor I wanted. Now I really had to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t because they want you to have a full bladder for the treatment. Don’t ask me ‘why?’ It’s something about a full bladder keeps the bladder in the proper place for treatment. Yada, yada, yada....
By the time I got in there I was telling them that they “better hurry, or I’m going to have an accident in my hospital gown and short out or defile your jillion dollar piece of equipment!” When they saw we squirming around and walking cross-legged toward their machine they ended running to get my treatment over.
Jim
Today when I went to my appointment I left so I’d arrive a half-hour early. Thank goodness I did, because I rode the elevator for 20 minutes before I got to the floor I needed to. Everyone that got on after me wanted to go to every floor except the one I wanted. I may have a gene missing for operating elevators, but I don’t think so.
Finally after riding the elevator for 20 minutes and my dinner was up in my esophagus and then hammered into my bowels I arrived at the floor I wanted. Now I really had to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t because they want you to have a full bladder for the treatment. Don’t ask me ‘why?’ It’s something about a full bladder keeps the bladder in the proper place for treatment. Yada, yada, yada....
By the time I got in there I was telling them that they “better hurry, or I’m going to have an accident in my hospital gown and short out or defile your jillion dollar piece of equipment!” When they saw we squirming around and walking cross-legged toward their machine they ended running to get my treatment over.
Jim
Mon., March 1 "The Chicken Bone Lunch"
To ensure that I don’t go back home with a new skill set that I’d be expected to use, I’ve made the not-to-difficult decision not to cook while I‘m here. I know it does take much thought, sacrifice ,and consideration, but I feel it’s best for all concerned. Although this may come as a surprise to some people considering how well I like to eat, I feel it’s the least I can do. I’ll boil water here, but that’s about it.
My meals have been something like this; for breakfast I have oatmeal and coffee, lunch, I eat out somewhere, and for dinner I have some fruit or nuts or yogurt. Sometimes I mix it up a bit and have coffee and oatmeal instead. If I’m lucky and think ahead I actually have milk with the oatmeal. This has not really happened yet, but being the positive thinker that I am, I have high hopes that it will happen in the not-too-distant future. I generally remember to buy milk as I'm walking out of the store and not into the store. If not, I have yogurt with the oatmeal. I have learned that I do not enjoy cranberry juice in my oatmeal.
For lunch I generally eat out. I figure that will be my big meal of the day. Being the bargain shopper that I am I believe that I should be able to find a lunch special somewhere. Today I got lucky. Not rabbit’s foot kind of lucky but chicken leg kind of lucky.
Ok, let me explain. I went on a walking loop that I figured to be about 5 miles, as it turned out if was 5.5 miles. That’s good, especially as there were a lot of places to eat on the way. Now if I’d done this loop and there hadn’t been any places to eat I may have a different perspective.
Anyway, I stopped at this little Mexican café and ordered their special; two tacos for $4.99. I ordered one fish taco and one chicken taco. Yes, they were big and good. I had finished the fish taco and was closing in on the end of chicken taco when I noticed a shape that didn’t look like lettuce, tortilla, cheese, or chicken meat. It was part of a chicken leg bone. Do not have any misperceptions about me though, I have been to KFC before. So although it was odd, it’s just that I didn’t expect to find a chicken bone in my taco. Since the lady was next to me at the counter I showed it to her and said, “I think I have something a little extra in my taco.” She was surprised and was very apologetic. She said “This isn’t supposed to happen. We order boneless chicken. Do you want another one? ” I said, “No, that’s OK, one leg is enough. but thank you.” Anyway, she came out a little later and gave me a coupon for two more tacos. So, I guess I know where I’m eating lunch tomorrow.
My meals have been something like this; for breakfast I have oatmeal and coffee, lunch, I eat out somewhere, and for dinner I have some fruit or nuts or yogurt. Sometimes I mix it up a bit and have coffee and oatmeal instead. If I’m lucky and think ahead I actually have milk with the oatmeal. This has not really happened yet, but being the positive thinker that I am, I have high hopes that it will happen in the not-too-distant future. I generally remember to buy milk as I'm walking out of the store and not into the store. If not, I have yogurt with the oatmeal. I have learned that I do not enjoy cranberry juice in my oatmeal.
For lunch I generally eat out. I figure that will be my big meal of the day. Being the bargain shopper that I am I believe that I should be able to find a lunch special somewhere. Today I got lucky. Not rabbit’s foot kind of lucky but chicken leg kind of lucky.
Ok, let me explain. I went on a walking loop that I figured to be about 5 miles, as it turned out if was 5.5 miles. That’s good, especially as there were a lot of places to eat on the way. Now if I’d done this loop and there hadn’t been any places to eat I may have a different perspective.
Anyway, I stopped at this little Mexican café and ordered their special; two tacos for $4.99. I ordered one fish taco and one chicken taco. Yes, they were big and good. I had finished the fish taco and was closing in on the end of chicken taco when I noticed a shape that didn’t look like lettuce, tortilla, cheese, or chicken meat. It was part of a chicken leg bone. Do not have any misperceptions about me though, I have been to KFC before. So although it was odd, it’s just that I didn’t expect to find a chicken bone in my taco. Since the lady was next to me at the counter I showed it to her and said, “I think I have something a little extra in my taco.” She was surprised and was very apologetic. She said “This isn’t supposed to happen. We order boneless chicken. Do you want another one? ” I said, “No, that’s OK, one leg is enough. but thank you.” Anyway, she came out a little later and gave me a coupon for two more tacos. So, I guess I know where I’m eating lunch tomorrow.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Sun., Feb. 28
Seems that Palm Springs is not really too far from here. Only 45 minutes without much traffic. A guy by the name of Richard, that lives in the same complex as I do and is here from Minnesota, and I decided to go there yesterday. It had been raining all night but was turning out to be a nice day here. On the way over we saw about 500 working wind turbines on the hillsides and in the valley. We drove through downtown Palm Springs and one thing I can say about it, is that it’s devoid of tall buildings. That’s a good thing.
The temp was actually pretty pleasant, about 70 degrees. I heard that during the summer time the temp is about 120 degrees, so this was a good time to visit.
We tried to take some streets to go toward the mountains that are to the west of the city but every street had a guarded gate. They all appeared to be gated communities. I guess to keep out vermin like Richard and myself. I was going to say that we were there to visit the Open House that was going on, but I figured that would be too much effort to just get some free food.
He’s evidently not too much of a hiker so I didn’t suggest we go bushwhacking or anything, besides it rained pretty hard on the way back. I think that next weekend I’ll go up towards Lake Arrowhead and see if I can find some good hiking trails. On second thought, maybe it’s better to go up there during the week. There very well may be less people there than on the weekends.
Today when I went out the lines were horrendous, and this was a Sunday morning. On the way there I could smell the wafting aromas of breakfasts cooking. I was getting hungry, but around every corner were lines and lines of people waiting to eat. I think everyone in Loma Linda must go out to breakfast on Sunday mornings and go to the same place. In fact, the longer I waited the more that I thought that people must come from miles around to eat breakfast here. I hate lines, and especially if I’m in one, but with my weakened state and hunger pangs and the aromas of food cooking made me get in one, and besides breakfast was just $5.99. I just hoped the line I was in led to food and not the bathroom. When I actually got into the restaurant it was even worse.
Ahead of me were two guys about 25 years old keeping up an endless conversation of meaningless drivel. One guy would always stop talking about every other sentence and ask his buddy, “know what I mean?” and then continue with his rant before the other guy had a chance to answer. I wanted to tap the guy on the shoulder and say, “Hey, Jethro, let me give you some advice; stay in school so you don’t have to ask your friends, ‘know what I mean?’ all the time. It makes you sound like the village idiot. In school you’ll gain a much larger vocabulary, especially if you read the books, and you won’t have to ask that stupid sounding question all the time.“ But of course, I didn’t say this.
I have always wondered if people who get tattoos every regret it. I saw this guy today in the restaurant, and I have to think that he must have questioned some of his sanity when he was younger. Here he is, an old man, about 85 years old, and he has what looks like a blue and purple bandana on his forehead. Upon closer inspection it’s a scenic of tattoos on his forehead from ear to ear and from just above his eyebrows to the crown of his head. Fourteen stray white hairs and a blue forehead. I have to think it never was too much of a ‘chick magnet.‘ It was a somewhat unique place to show his love to whoever’s name was on his forehead. It was made up of what looked like barbed wire and vague symbols of geometric figures or something. It looked like it may have been done by someone who wanted to go to tattoo school or possibly during an all-night drinking contest. The point is, I wonder if he ever regretted the statement that he was trying to make when he was younger and got the tattoo. I think that there should be breathalyzers at all tattoo parlors and people should be mandated to take the test. In addition to going to the two-week Acme School of Tattooing there should be a law that people cannot get a tattoo if they have a blood alcohol level of anything higher than 0.01. Maybe they could be cut some slack if they were getting a tattoo on a less obvious space, say their bum or something, then they could get a tattoo if the breathalyzer test were as high as 0.02. Don't get me wrong, I have seen great looking tattoos and I've thought about getting one at some point. I just haven't seen the right meaning that I want to have on my body. And I won't get one after drinking anything alcoholic.
I lost my only comb today, and so I had to make a crucial decision. I had to either buy another comb or get a haircut. I have been thinking about getting a haircut since I've been down here. I've been seeing these barber shops advertising the fact that they offer $6 haircuts, and you know me and bargains! I figured that if I had to buy a comb a week for 7 weeks more that would be $7 since the last one I bought cost $1. Based on the fact that I've lost two combs since I've been here it would be cheaper to just get a haircut. So that's what I decided. The only trouble is I could no longer find one of those places that advertised $6 haircuts.
Today I found one that had $8 haircuts. I decided on the spot that a barber on the boulevard is worth two $6 barbers that I can't find, so I went in. I confirmed that it was $8 and sat down in the chair. "Just leave about 1/2" I told the barber," running my hand over my head. After about `10 minutes of buzzing, clipping, snipping, and fussing she handed me the mirror. The sides were even and about 1/2" long, but she had left a perfect 1/2" wide line of hair running from the front of my hair to the back. I looked like some punk rocker 'wanna be. I laughed a somewhat nervous laugh and asked, "You are going to cut the rest of it off aren't you?" She laughed and said somewhat fakey, "Oh, you wanted that cut too?" She cut it and we were all happy. I think I almost could've been a punk rocker!
The temp was actually pretty pleasant, about 70 degrees. I heard that during the summer time the temp is about 120 degrees, so this was a good time to visit.
We tried to take some streets to go toward the mountains that are to the west of the city but every street had a guarded gate. They all appeared to be gated communities. I guess to keep out vermin like Richard and myself. I was going to say that we were there to visit the Open House that was going on, but I figured that would be too much effort to just get some free food.
He’s evidently not too much of a hiker so I didn’t suggest we go bushwhacking or anything, besides it rained pretty hard on the way back. I think that next weekend I’ll go up towards Lake Arrowhead and see if I can find some good hiking trails. On second thought, maybe it’s better to go up there during the week. There very well may be less people there than on the weekends.
Today when I went out the lines were horrendous, and this was a Sunday morning. On the way there I could smell the wafting aromas of breakfasts cooking. I was getting hungry, but around every corner were lines and lines of people waiting to eat. I think everyone in Loma Linda must go out to breakfast on Sunday mornings and go to the same place. In fact, the longer I waited the more that I thought that people must come from miles around to eat breakfast here. I hate lines, and especially if I’m in one, but with my weakened state and hunger pangs and the aromas of food cooking made me get in one, and besides breakfast was just $5.99. I just hoped the line I was in led to food and not the bathroom. When I actually got into the restaurant it was even worse.
Ahead of me were two guys about 25 years old keeping up an endless conversation of meaningless drivel. One guy would always stop talking about every other sentence and ask his buddy, “know what I mean?” and then continue with his rant before the other guy had a chance to answer. I wanted to tap the guy on the shoulder and say, “Hey, Jethro, let me give you some advice; stay in school so you don’t have to ask your friends, ‘know what I mean?’ all the time. It makes you sound like the village idiot. In school you’ll gain a much larger vocabulary, especially if you read the books, and you won’t have to ask that stupid sounding question all the time.“ But of course, I didn’t say this.
I have always wondered if people who get tattoos every regret it. I saw this guy today in the restaurant, and I have to think that he must have questioned some of his sanity when he was younger. Here he is, an old man, about 85 years old, and he has what looks like a blue and purple bandana on his forehead. Upon closer inspection it’s a scenic of tattoos on his forehead from ear to ear and from just above his eyebrows to the crown of his head. Fourteen stray white hairs and a blue forehead. I have to think it never was too much of a ‘chick magnet.‘ It was a somewhat unique place to show his love to whoever’s name was on his forehead. It was made up of what looked like barbed wire and vague symbols of geometric figures or something. It looked like it may have been done by someone who wanted to go to tattoo school or possibly during an all-night drinking contest. The point is, I wonder if he ever regretted the statement that he was trying to make when he was younger and got the tattoo. I think that there should be breathalyzers at all tattoo parlors and people should be mandated to take the test. In addition to going to the two-week Acme School of Tattooing there should be a law that people cannot get a tattoo if they have a blood alcohol level of anything higher than 0.01. Maybe they could be cut some slack if they were getting a tattoo on a less obvious space, say their bum or something, then they could get a tattoo if the breathalyzer test were as high as 0.02. Don't get me wrong, I have seen great looking tattoos and I've thought about getting one at some point. I just haven't seen the right meaning that I want to have on my body. And I won't get one after drinking anything alcoholic.
I lost my only comb today, and so I had to make a crucial decision. I had to either buy another comb or get a haircut. I have been thinking about getting a haircut since I've been down here. I've been seeing these barber shops advertising the fact that they offer $6 haircuts, and you know me and bargains! I figured that if I had to buy a comb a week for 7 weeks more that would be $7 since the last one I bought cost $1. Based on the fact that I've lost two combs since I've been here it would be cheaper to just get a haircut. So that's what I decided. The only trouble is I could no longer find one of those places that advertised $6 haircuts.
Today I found one that had $8 haircuts. I decided on the spot that a barber on the boulevard is worth two $6 barbers that I can't find, so I went in. I confirmed that it was $8 and sat down in the chair. "Just leave about 1/2" I told the barber," running my hand over my head. After about `10 minutes of buzzing, clipping, snipping, and fussing she handed me the mirror. The sides were even and about 1/2" long, but she had left a perfect 1/2" wide line of hair running from the front of my hair to the back. I looked like some punk rocker 'wanna be. I laughed a somewhat nervous laugh and asked, "You are going to cut the rest of it off aren't you?" She laughed and said somewhat fakey, "Oh, you wanted that cut too?" She cut it and we were all happy. I think I almost could've been a punk rocker!
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thurs., Feb. 25
Yaaa… My appointment today is at 9:45 PM. I’m working my way up the food chain, or rather, up the seniority list.
I decided to venture out and go to the grocery store. That’s not to say I haven’t gone before, it just says that I’ve not driven the car. I generally walk about 2 miles each way (uphill in snow) to go to the store. Today the grocery store, tomorrow my laundry.
Today I decided to go on a real journey…. driving to Redlands which is about 5 miles away. I knew about where I was going because of the position of the Sun. I didn’t enter anything into the car GPS because I wanted to do it ‘Old School.‘ I hate that, but it happened to be the proper phrase. What that means is driving in the general direction of where you think something is supposed to be and hope that they really built it there. Realistically, I was never technically lost. I was just severely disoriented for inordinately extended periods of time having no idea where I’m going, but more important no idea how to get back to my starting point all the while maintaining a calm demeanor while [Yes, I will come to the end of this sentence soon.] trying not to perspire too much.
I made kind of a small (very small)promise to myself to not buy a bunch of junk food while I’m down here. No, I really did. You know, eat good food like oatmeal, carrots, dried fruit, oranges, and stuff like that. When I was at the store I did buy a bag of potato chips though. I figured they were OK because they were called ‘Guilt Free Potato Chips.’ Really. They must be nutritionally good because there was a line of rather obviously experienced potato chip eating people trying to make off with the last few bags. I managed to snag the last bag when I brought to their attention that there was a really famous movie star right behind them. It worked, can you believe it?
I can’t wait to tell my grandkids about driving when I was a kid. “We had paper maps when I was a kid. Yep, real paper. We didn’t have a GPS or any of that other fancy stuff. We had to depend on our own initiative and natural direction finding abilities to get around. If things got really tough, meaning lost for more than 4 or 5 days, we’d actually use the map.”
Men do this for more than just macho bravado. They don't it for something as shallow thing as trying to impress a woman. If we did use the map it would expose another of our tender underbellies. It would show a major physiological deficiency that we do not like to admit to. Women can point out many genes that are missing and if we did this it would just give women another way to show our ineptitude. Men lack a map-folding gene. Once a man unfolds a map to consult it, he can never fold it back as it's supposed to be again. The only cure is to buy another map and keep it in a very secure place.
On a serious note: There are about 250-280 patients going through the Proton Treatment daily. The four gantries operate from 6 AM until 11 PM. Much like a 7-11 Mini Mart, but in this case all the customers have their clothes off and there’s definitely no chips and soda. We really don’t have much interchange with other patients because of how well it’s all scheduled, and really who wants to have a conversation with a bunch of other naked guys?
Generally the conversations go something like this; “Wow, you’ve had 37 treatments? So, you’re a senior, huh?” Or, “Oh, you’re a patient here too, huh? “How many treatments so far?” Six. “Hey, that’s the same as me. Oh, yeh, you were at the orientation meeting. I didn’t recognize you without any clothes on.”
It’s one place when they tell you to “relax” you have to concentrate really hard to relax. When they say “pucker up,” you can bet, you ain’t gonna get a kiss. (Actually, they don’t say that, I just made that part up.)
I decided to venture out and go to the grocery store. That’s not to say I haven’t gone before, it just says that I’ve not driven the car. I generally walk about 2 miles each way (uphill in snow) to go to the store. Today the grocery store, tomorrow my laundry.
Today I decided to go on a real journey…. driving to Redlands which is about 5 miles away. I knew about where I was going because of the position of the Sun. I didn’t enter anything into the car GPS because I wanted to do it ‘Old School.‘ I hate that, but it happened to be the proper phrase. What that means is driving in the general direction of where you think something is supposed to be and hope that they really built it there. Realistically, I was never technically lost. I was just severely disoriented for inordinately extended periods of time having no idea where I’m going, but more important no idea how to get back to my starting point all the while maintaining a calm demeanor while [Yes, I will come to the end of this sentence soon.] trying not to perspire too much.
I made kind of a small (very small)promise to myself to not buy a bunch of junk food while I’m down here. No, I really did. You know, eat good food like oatmeal, carrots, dried fruit, oranges, and stuff like that. When I was at the store I did buy a bag of potato chips though. I figured they were OK because they were called ‘Guilt Free Potato Chips.’ Really. They must be nutritionally good because there was a line of rather obviously experienced potato chip eating people trying to make off with the last few bags. I managed to snag the last bag when I brought to their attention that there was a really famous movie star right behind them. It worked, can you believe it?
I can’t wait to tell my grandkids about driving when I was a kid. “We had paper maps when I was a kid. Yep, real paper. We didn’t have a GPS or any of that other fancy stuff. We had to depend on our own initiative and natural direction finding abilities to get around. If things got really tough, meaning lost for more than 4 or 5 days, we’d actually use the map.”
Men do this for more than just macho bravado. They don't it for something as shallow thing as trying to impress a woman. If we did use the map it would expose another of our tender underbellies. It would show a major physiological deficiency that we do not like to admit to. Women can point out many genes that are missing and if we did this it would just give women another way to show our ineptitude. Men lack a map-folding gene. Once a man unfolds a map to consult it, he can never fold it back as it's supposed to be again. The only cure is to buy another map and keep it in a very secure place.
On a serious note: There are about 250-280 patients going through the Proton Treatment daily. The four gantries operate from 6 AM until 11 PM. Much like a 7-11 Mini Mart, but in this case all the customers have their clothes off and there’s definitely no chips and soda. We really don’t have much interchange with other patients because of how well it’s all scheduled, and really who wants to have a conversation with a bunch of other naked guys?
Generally the conversations go something like this; “Wow, you’ve had 37 treatments? So, you’re a senior, huh?” Or, “Oh, you’re a patient here too, huh? “How many treatments so far?” Six. “Hey, that’s the same as me. Oh, yeh, you were at the orientation meeting. I didn’t recognize you without any clothes on.”
It’s one place when they tell you to “relax” you have to concentrate really hard to relax. When they say “pucker up,” you can bet, you ain’t gonna get a kiss. (Actually, they don’t say that, I just made that part up.)
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wed., Feb. 24
My walk today
Since I made a resolve to myself to write a journal of my daily routines, albeit as boring as they are, I sat down this morning to record them for the day…..thinking….still thinking……nothing coming……still thinking. Then, when I’d almost forgot what I was thinking about. I remembered! I had done nothing so far, and thus had nothing to write about.
Writing about what I’m reading or the Senate inquiry panel grilling the President of Toyota gets lost in the translation and is actually even more boring reading about it than listening to it. It’s kind of like a staff meeting when they’re talking about stuff you have no idea what they’re talking about and the best you can do is grunt in affirmation at the proper time, or reach for another piece of candy instead of raising your hand to vote on God knows what.
Here in the LA basin area (I think I’m still in the LA basin area) they have these crosswalks on every corner. In fact, there’s one right outside my door. Considering how many people and cars are down here it’s probably a pretty good idea. Anyway, there are these push buttons on the posts and if you need to cross safely you can push these and wait for the signal on the other side to display a picture of a white figure walking across the crosswalk. Oh, you’ve seen them too?
To go along with that, theoretically, if you get pressed out on in the street by a car while you’re in the crosswalk and the walking figure is white you can sue the city or someone for zillions of dollars, and if you‘re lucky live like a rich vegetable in a really nice wheelchair for as long as it takes you to convince someone to buy you a gun so you don’t have to live like a rich vegetable. I don’t really know if that’s true, and I’m not willing to test my theory.
Anyway, while going on my walk today I used the crosswalk. Of course I did, I always use the crosswalk and the push button on the post. I pushed the button and waited patiently for the figure on the other side to change from a red hand to a white figure. I always wonder when I push the button on these things if they really work, or they’re broken, especially after about 10 minutes of watching cross traffic from both directions proceed multiple times. I think that these buttons that the pedestrian pushes is just a 'dummy spring' and it has not bearing on anything nor is it really connected to anything. It is just there so the pedestrian has something to do while waiting there. Or worse yet a city worker with a remote in his hands just laughing his ass off at what he can make people do while trying to cross. Just about the time I think, ‘To hell with it, I’m going for it!’ there will be a police car sneaking up behind me just waiting for me to jay-walk or something. Come to think of it, is jay-walking ‘jay-walking’ when you’re in the crosswalk? What is it then when a person crosses in the crosswalk against a red walking figure?
Anyway, I pushed the button and waited and waited…and waited. I was thinking that here I was trying to be a law-abiding citizen and trying to cross legally at the crosswalks and I’m stuck at a broken crosswalk. Just when I was ready to take my chances and dart across I looked one last time and the figure changed from a blinking red to a constant white. I couldn’t believe it. It did work! Looking both directions before stepping off I stepped off the curb and onto the crosswalk, or rather started to step off. That was my mistake. I wasn’t quick enough. The lighted figure started flashing red. I think the white signal must have lasted at least 0.0000127 of a second.
I waited another 10 minutes for the light to change back to white again and finally it did. This time I was ready. I stepped off the curb without looking both ways and started to hurry across the street. I almost had my left heel off the curb when the light started flashing red. Damn, back to the sidewalk.
Next time I was really ready. I got down into the sprinter’s crouch position and instead of waiting for the starting gun I waited for the light to turn from red to white again. You know the position, fingers lightly touching the ground with your butt high in the air and your head up watching for the signal. I even shuffled my feet pretending I was pushing off from starting blocks. Some of the people waiting there probably didn’t know why I was doing this and I didn’t bother to take the time to explain it to them.
Mind you, this had been 15 minutes so far just to cross the street. At this rate it would take me about 26 hours to complete my proposed walk 4 mile walk. Anyway, I waited for the light to change and finally after about another 5 minutes the light turned white and I bolted like an Olympic sprinter off the curb.
Before my back foot landed on the street the light turned red again. I said to "hell with it" and walked back into the house.
Since I made a resolve to myself to write a journal of my daily routines, albeit as boring as they are, I sat down this morning to record them for the day…..thinking….still thinking……nothing coming……still thinking. Then, when I’d almost forgot what I was thinking about. I remembered! I had done nothing so far, and thus had nothing to write about.
Writing about what I’m reading or the Senate inquiry panel grilling the President of Toyota gets lost in the translation and is actually even more boring reading about it than listening to it. It’s kind of like a staff meeting when they’re talking about stuff you have no idea what they’re talking about and the best you can do is grunt in affirmation at the proper time, or reach for another piece of candy instead of raising your hand to vote on God knows what.
Here in the LA basin area (I think I’m still in the LA basin area) they have these crosswalks on every corner. In fact, there’s one right outside my door. Considering how many people and cars are down here it’s probably a pretty good idea. Anyway, there are these push buttons on the posts and if you need to cross safely you can push these and wait for the signal on the other side to display a picture of a white figure walking across the crosswalk. Oh, you’ve seen them too?
To go along with that, theoretically, if you get pressed out on in the street by a car while you’re in the crosswalk and the walking figure is white you can sue the city or someone for zillions of dollars, and if you‘re lucky live like a rich vegetable in a really nice wheelchair for as long as it takes you to convince someone to buy you a gun so you don’t have to live like a rich vegetable. I don’t really know if that’s true, and I’m not willing to test my theory.
Anyway, while going on my walk today I used the crosswalk. Of course I did, I always use the crosswalk and the push button on the post. I pushed the button and waited patiently for the figure on the other side to change from a red hand to a white figure. I always wonder when I push the button on these things if they really work, or they’re broken, especially after about 10 minutes of watching cross traffic from both directions proceed multiple times. I think that these buttons that the pedestrian pushes is just a 'dummy spring' and it has not bearing on anything nor is it really connected to anything. It is just there so the pedestrian has something to do while waiting there. Or worse yet a city worker with a remote in his hands just laughing his ass off at what he can make people do while trying to cross. Just about the time I think, ‘To hell with it, I’m going for it!’ there will be a police car sneaking up behind me just waiting for me to jay-walk or something. Come to think of it, is jay-walking ‘jay-walking’ when you’re in the crosswalk? What is it then when a person crosses in the crosswalk against a red walking figure?
Anyway, I pushed the button and waited and waited…and waited. I was thinking that here I was trying to be a law-abiding citizen and trying to cross legally at the crosswalks and I’m stuck at a broken crosswalk. Just when I was ready to take my chances and dart across I looked one last time and the figure changed from a blinking red to a constant white. I couldn’t believe it. It did work! Looking both directions before stepping off I stepped off the curb and onto the crosswalk, or rather started to step off. That was my mistake. I wasn’t quick enough. The lighted figure started flashing red. I think the white signal must have lasted at least 0.0000127 of a second.
I waited another 10 minutes for the light to change back to white again and finally it did. This time I was ready. I stepped off the curb without looking both ways and started to hurry across the street. I almost had my left heel off the curb when the light started flashing red. Damn, back to the sidewalk.
Next time I was really ready. I got down into the sprinter’s crouch position and instead of waiting for the starting gun I waited for the light to turn from red to white again. You know the position, fingers lightly touching the ground with your butt high in the air and your head up watching for the signal. I even shuffled my feet pretending I was pushing off from starting blocks. Some of the people waiting there probably didn’t know why I was doing this and I didn’t bother to take the time to explain it to them.
Mind you, this had been 15 minutes so far just to cross the street. At this rate it would take me about 26 hours to complete my proposed walk 4 mile walk. Anyway, I waited for the light to change and finally after about another 5 minutes the light turned white and I bolted like an Olympic sprinter off the curb.
Before my back foot landed on the street the light turned red again. I said to "hell with it" and walked back into the house.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Tues., Feb. 23
Well, I’ve been here a week now, only about 8 more weeks to go. This is such a different experience being here. I should home with my family, be in my classroom. I find that leaving my identity and routine is hard. Never in wildest imagination did I ever believe that I would find myself missing work to attend to a health issue of mine. I have always fancied myself a relatively health person. Now I find myself not just dealing with it, but changing my life and routine to deal with it. What I’ve had affirmed to me so far is how important family is. Talking by web-cam is nice but it doesn’t take the place of being there face to face. To me it’s somewhat like receiving a email vs. A hand-written letter. The difference is minimal, but the meaning is amazing.
In every separation of a human touch there is a loss in meaning that is hard to quantify. As this is carried on it further distances genuine human interactions. Being there on the screen watching our family dinner last Sunday was very special and it made me realize how important it really is. Many time my small day-to-day experiences don’t really make an impact on me, and I may not understand how really important they really are.
The first thought that comes to mind is exercising whose benefits aren’t really realized until much later. Initially the only benefit may be a soreness which may not really be understood to be a benefit. The true benefit is the underlying strength of the muscles and the health of ones very cells. Perhaps their will be an opportunity to come from this experience that I don’t see yet.
In every separation of a human touch there is a loss in meaning that is hard to quantify. As this is carried on it further distances genuine human interactions. Being there on the screen watching our family dinner last Sunday was very special and it made me realize how important it really is. Many time my small day-to-day experiences don’t really make an impact on me, and I may not understand how really important they really are.
The first thought that comes to mind is exercising whose benefits aren’t really realized until much later. Initially the only benefit may be a soreness which may not really be understood to be a benefit. The true benefit is the underlying strength of the muscles and the health of ones very cells. Perhaps their will be an opportunity to come from this experience that I don’t see yet.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Mon., Feb. 22
Today I had an appointment to see Dr. Bush. Once a week all patients meet with their doctors. Being a doctor he wasn’t there today, so I met with his Resident Physician. My time will be at 2:40 PM each Monday.
Even though my body said “don’t go to the gym” I went anyway. I worked out on the weights for awhile and then decided to ‘man up’ and go to the Yoga class. I was interested to see how they were going to mesh Western Christianity religion and the mediation aspect of Buddhism and Yoga. Yes, there was still the “Standing Dog” and the “Bent Cow” but it was intermingled with the soothing background music of Yanni. She didn’t say anything about Chakras though, maybe she forgot.
When I took the rubber workout pad from the stack and placed it on the floor I scared myself when I looked into the mirror that was along the front wall. I was much wider than I originally thought. Since I was wearing light-colored shorts and a white T-shirt, I kind of looked like either the Pillsbury Dough Boy or maybe the pudgy Michellin tire guy. But then I looked again, and what I was really looking at were where two mirrors came together. I stepped to the side and everything improved. I was much slimmer. Not much, but it helped. Thank goodness for inferior workmanship.
Doing the exercises I felt like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. The ‘Standing Dog’ was OK, but it got kind of hard from there on out. Meanwhile, the instructor looked like she could have been a stand-in for that toy, Gumby. I don’t think that she was too impressed with my lack of flexibility. I told her I was over-muscled and men with a lot of muscle don’t stretch very well. She didn’t buy it. Of course it’s a similar story that I told the trainers in the weight room, “You wouldn’t believe how well I stretch, I just don’t have a lot of muscle to go along with it. (Not really, I just made that part up.)
I think that the best approach is somewhere in the middle. I’ve seen statues of people that mediate too much. All their weight stops at their stomachs. Of course I’ve seen people who run to much too. They look like a bunch of skeletons running down the road.
My appointment for ‘the treatment’ was at 3:15 PM today. Seems that the guy who usually has it at that time had to do something really important, probably finish his golf game or something. Mine is back to my freshman time of 10:15 PM on Tuesday, unless the guy has to play another 18 holes.
Even though my body said “don’t go to the gym” I went anyway. I worked out on the weights for awhile and then decided to ‘man up’ and go to the Yoga class. I was interested to see how they were going to mesh Western Christianity religion and the mediation aspect of Buddhism and Yoga. Yes, there was still the “Standing Dog” and the “Bent Cow” but it was intermingled with the soothing background music of Yanni. She didn’t say anything about Chakras though, maybe she forgot.
When I took the rubber workout pad from the stack and placed it on the floor I scared myself when I looked into the mirror that was along the front wall. I was much wider than I originally thought. Since I was wearing light-colored shorts and a white T-shirt, I kind of looked like either the Pillsbury Dough Boy or maybe the pudgy Michellin tire guy. But then I looked again, and what I was really looking at were where two mirrors came together. I stepped to the side and everything improved. I was much slimmer. Not much, but it helped. Thank goodness for inferior workmanship.
Doing the exercises I felt like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. The ‘Standing Dog’ was OK, but it got kind of hard from there on out. Meanwhile, the instructor looked like she could have been a stand-in for that toy, Gumby. I don’t think that she was too impressed with my lack of flexibility. I told her I was over-muscled and men with a lot of muscle don’t stretch very well. She didn’t buy it. Of course it’s a similar story that I told the trainers in the weight room, “You wouldn’t believe how well I stretch, I just don’t have a lot of muscle to go along with it. (Not really, I just made that part up.)
I think that the best approach is somewhere in the middle. I’ve seen statues of people that mediate too much. All their weight stops at their stomachs. Of course I’ve seen people who run to much too. They look like a bunch of skeletons running down the road.
My appointment for ‘the treatment’ was at 3:15 PM today. Seems that the guy who usually has it at that time had to do something really important, probably finish his golf game or something. Mine is back to my freshman time of 10:15 PM on Tuesday, unless the guy has to play another 18 holes.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Sun., Feb. 21
Something woke me up about 4 AM. It was a staccato tapping sound that had a somewhat sharp edge to it. It sounded like it was coming from the skylight area above the futon that I sleep on. The skylight is about 5’ square with a lamp/fan in the middle of it. The skylight actually extends over the opening in the ceiling so there is a flat area on the underside of the opening. The tapping sounds would start again and then stop again, like something running, sniffing, stopping, and sniffing again. Great, I thought, a mouse, or worse yet, a vagrant rat doing laps over my head in the skylight! Just what I need gnawing on my bananas on the counter, or worse yet eating some of my energy bars! This means WAR! Already in a half-waked state I was thinking of calling the landlord and seeing if they had any rat or mouse poison. Looking up in the darkness I thought I saw a dark shape running on the edge of the opening framed by an even larger shape. I didn’t even want to know how it may have got up there.
Finally I just rolled over and tried to go back to sleep as it now sounded like the noise level had increased. As if it had invited its friends over, and they were all doing laps racing around the flat area up there. As it got louder and louder I could just imagine that the fastest runners of the rat world were up there just a few feet over my head taking part in some type of Olympic Rat Running Trials or something. Oh well, since I hadn’t seen any signs of any rodent turds on the floor I thought they must know what they’re doing and hadn’t fallen into the human living space yet.
When I got up a couple of hours later I discovered that it was simply the rain hitting the skylight and not a stray varmit as I’d thought.
I was able to go to the gym finally and work out. The good news is that they have a really nice health facility. The bad news is that I still looked like Pee Wee Herman when I walked out. At the end of my workout I got into the outdoor hot tub with a couple of the post 50 crowd. I didn’t stay very long as all they were talking about was how Wal-Mart vitamins compare with Rite-Aid vitamins. The final straw was when they got into their lumbago issues. I was ‘outta’ there.
Finally I just rolled over and tried to go back to sleep as it now sounded like the noise level had increased. As if it had invited its friends over, and they were all doing laps racing around the flat area up there. As it got louder and louder I could just imagine that the fastest runners of the rat world were up there just a few feet over my head taking part in some type of Olympic Rat Running Trials or something. Oh well, since I hadn’t seen any signs of any rodent turds on the floor I thought they must know what they’re doing and hadn’t fallen into the human living space yet.
When I got up a couple of hours later I discovered that it was simply the rain hitting the skylight and not a stray varmit as I’d thought.
I was able to go to the gym finally and work out. The good news is that they have a really nice health facility. The bad news is that I still looked like Pee Wee Herman when I walked out. At the end of my workout I got into the outdoor hot tub with a couple of the post 50 crowd. I didn’t stay very long as all they were talking about was how Wal-Mart vitamins compare with Rite-Aid vitamins. The final straw was when they got into their lumbago issues. I was ‘outta’ there.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Sat., Feb. 20
Today I thought of getting in the car and driving somewhere. Then I looked out and listened to the traffic and decided not to. Then Sandi called me up and said, “You should really get in the car and drive somewhere.” So I got in and drove around the block.
Andrew and Rachael texted me, and after about an hour of messing around we got the video chat feature of Gmail working. Randy got on and then for some reason none of us could see each other. Finally, after Sandi called again telling me “You should really go somewhere and have a relaxing drive,” I did. I got in the car and headed east to a place called Arrowhead Lake. It’s the first time I moved the car since I’ve been here. After about 5 minutes on the freeway of watching maniacal frowning drivers hunched over steering wheels with a cigarette and Red Bull in one hand and texting with the other hand driving 70 MPH, I had had enough of an enjoyable relaxing drive. I stopped and walked slowly through a Wal-Mart full of screaming kids to calm my nerves. Andrew wanted me to get a headset with a speaker anyway. They didn’t have one. Probably the only Wal-Mart in the world without a headset speaker.
Anyway, I worked up my nerve and got back on the freeway again still headed for Arrowhead Lake. It was a little overcast in Loma Linda and it was a lot overcast in the direction that I was going. The elevation climbs as the road leaves the city. Which city? I don’t know. About 2 miles out of town the road narrows to a two-lane, and there’s a sign showing that you’re now entering San Bernadino National Forest, and right beside the sign is a scrawny, little, spindly, yellowing six-foot pine tree, evidently, the forest. It was the only tree visible for miles. As the road got curvier the traffic got faster and the clouds got thicker. Pretty soon the cars’ speed hadn’t decreased, but the visibility was down to about 15 feet. Since I think I may have been overlooking Arrowhead Lake and I couldn’t see it I turned around and came back. I’ll save this drive for earlier on a weekend morning and on a clear day.
I entered in the San Juan Street address and it took be back a different way than what I had come. Now, I’m really glad that Sandi bought this Mazda with the GPS Guidance System, or I may be having surgery right now. I can’t imagine finding my way around here without a navigator or one of these. I had no idea where I was until about 5 minutes before I parked in front of the apartment. It’s just a good thing that cities were smaller when we had paper maps.
Andrew and Rachael texted me, and after about an hour of messing around we got the video chat feature of Gmail working. Randy got on and then for some reason none of us could see each other. Finally, after Sandi called again telling me “You should really go somewhere and have a relaxing drive,” I did. I got in the car and headed east to a place called Arrowhead Lake. It’s the first time I moved the car since I’ve been here. After about 5 minutes on the freeway of watching maniacal frowning drivers hunched over steering wheels with a cigarette and Red Bull in one hand and texting with the other hand driving 70 MPH, I had had enough of an enjoyable relaxing drive. I stopped and walked slowly through a Wal-Mart full of screaming kids to calm my nerves. Andrew wanted me to get a headset with a speaker anyway. They didn’t have one. Probably the only Wal-Mart in the world without a headset speaker.
Anyway, I worked up my nerve and got back on the freeway again still headed for Arrowhead Lake. It was a little overcast in Loma Linda and it was a lot overcast in the direction that I was going. The elevation climbs as the road leaves the city. Which city? I don’t know. About 2 miles out of town the road narrows to a two-lane, and there’s a sign showing that you’re now entering San Bernadino National Forest, and right beside the sign is a scrawny, little, spindly, yellowing six-foot pine tree, evidently, the forest. It was the only tree visible for miles. As the road got curvier the traffic got faster and the clouds got thicker. Pretty soon the cars’ speed hadn’t decreased, but the visibility was down to about 15 feet. Since I think I may have been overlooking Arrowhead Lake and I couldn’t see it I turned around and came back. I’ll save this drive for earlier on a weekend morning and on a clear day.
I entered in the San Juan Street address and it took be back a different way than what I had come. Now, I’m really glad that Sandi bought this Mazda with the GPS Guidance System, or I may be having surgery right now. I can’t imagine finding my way around here without a navigator or one of these. I had no idea where I was until about 5 minutes before I parked in front of the apartment. It’s just a good thing that cities were smaller when we had paper maps.
Fri., Feb. 19
One reason that encourages me to utilize the gym is that the way that you check into the gym is with a little electronic credit card looking thing. For this reason they can track just how often a person uses the gym, or doesn’t use the gym. In the Proton Therapy Treatment they use these balloon things daily that are not the most pleasant of experiences. Well, to go along with the use of the gym, it seems that they save some of these extra balloons for those that do not use the gym. Let’s just say I’m going to endeavor to utilize the gym as much as possible.
Yesterday as I started to walk onto the track I had my head down making sure that my shoelaces were tied and my socks matched. I was lost in a world of thought. I was trying to determine if I had had enough exercise and should call it quits for the day. I had my head down trying to decide what to do until I was awakened by excited voices and the sound of shuffling feet getting louder and more and more excited. I looked up and understood what it must be like to being in the Running of the Bulls in Pampalona, Spain.
There were 6 people charging toward me the only place where there was any type of narrow chute on the entire ½ mile track. They weren’t just coming straight at me, they were running in a zigzag drunken fashion bumping and tripping into each other towards me. I guess if I had just kept still when I looked up instead of putting my head down and acting like I was a full back trying to run through the defensive line of the San Francisco 49ers and let them sweep past me they wouldn’t have looked like a bunch of drunken sailors coming to avenge something they thought I must have done. Anyway, I didn’t stand still. I moved quickly and flattened myself to the side of the track and let them sweep by me. I almost felt like I was slightly gored, but it was only a flesh wound.
I had some excitement yesterday. I felt a small earthquake. I was just sitting on the couch and felt about a 2-3 seconds shaking motion. The overhead light swung a little and then it was over. OK, it was really more exciting than it sounded.
I walked to the local Hometown Buffet for my sustenance today. It’s about 2 miles away so by the time I got there I was ready to kill and eat. The lunch price was $8.51 for as much salad, lunch, clam chowder, carrot cake, and Free-Range Baco-Bits as I could eat. The walk back was somewhat slower, actually, more of a rolling motion. I walked by way of the shopping complex just up the street (about 1-½ miles away) that has a Stater Brothers Grocery Store. I had to buy a lock and some vegetable juice. By the time I got back to the apartment I was hungry again so I walked back to the Hometown Buffet for dinner (not really).
Yesterday as I started to walk onto the track I had my head down making sure that my shoelaces were tied and my socks matched. I was lost in a world of thought. I was trying to determine if I had had enough exercise and should call it quits for the day. I had my head down trying to decide what to do until I was awakened by excited voices and the sound of shuffling feet getting louder and more and more excited. I looked up and understood what it must be like to being in the Running of the Bulls in Pampalona, Spain.
There were 6 people charging toward me the only place where there was any type of narrow chute on the entire ½ mile track. They weren’t just coming straight at me, they were running in a zigzag drunken fashion bumping and tripping into each other towards me. I guess if I had just kept still when I looked up instead of putting my head down and acting like I was a full back trying to run through the defensive line of the San Francisco 49ers and let them sweep past me they wouldn’t have looked like a bunch of drunken sailors coming to avenge something they thought I must have done. Anyway, I didn’t stand still. I moved quickly and flattened myself to the side of the track and let them sweep by me. I almost felt like I was slightly gored, but it was only a flesh wound.
I had some excitement yesterday. I felt a small earthquake. I was just sitting on the couch and felt about a 2-3 seconds shaking motion. The overhead light swung a little and then it was over. OK, it was really more exciting than it sounded.
I walked to the local Hometown Buffet for my sustenance today. It’s about 2 miles away so by the time I got there I was ready to kill and eat. The lunch price was $8.51 for as much salad, lunch, clam chowder, carrot cake, and Free-Range Baco-Bits as I could eat. The walk back was somewhat slower, actually, more of a rolling motion. I walked by way of the shopping complex just up the street (about 1-½ miles away) that has a Stater Brothers Grocery Store. I had to buy a lock and some vegetable juice. By the time I got back to the apartment I was hungry again so I walked back to the Hometown Buffet for dinner (not really).
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Thurs., Feb.18
Today was somewhat busy considering where I’m at and everything I’m not doing. I was really worried about what I’d forget. I really hoped that I wouldn’t forget, or worse yet fall asleep and miss my 11:00 PM appointment. I haven’t stayed up that late since …..(thinking)……(still thinking)……New Years Eve of 2007. Also, I had a 9:30 AM appointment for an orientation to the Proton Department. Considering the fact that I’d already had a consultation and nothing but embarrassment came from it I just couldn’t wait to see what this orientation would lead to. Actually as it turned out it was very much like going to a conference or workshop where they give you a large stack of papers that they want you to read. That’s two stacks of paper I have to read through now.
The place I’m staying is called the New Englander and considering how small it is, it’s an appropriate name. I didn’t really see how well the name fit until I’d been here a few days. The New England States are pretty small and densely populated, much like this apartment. It’s OK until I walk into it, then it gets kind of claustrophobic and over-populated.
In hindsight I’m really glad that HB had me pack the things I did. Extra underwear, deodorant, extra socks, and stuff like that. I knew that I’d need stuff like towels for the gym and gym shorts.
I finally got to go to the gym and get signed up. I was ready to tear that place apart. The veins in my neck were pumping and I was breathing deeply. I could just see myself walking in like Pee Wee Herman and walking out like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was ready! I walked around getting the lay of the land and decided I’d go to the weight room. I did notice a sign that that said “No Towel, No Weights.” The mean side of me wanted to get out my permanent marker and write underneath it “No Problem.” Well, as I was getting dressed for the workout and just determining which shorts to wear I discovered a problem. I couldn’t decide if I should wear my weightlifting shorts, my running shorts, my badminton shorts, my basketball shorts, my walking shorts, my swimming shorts, my jogging shorts, or my basketball shorts. I needn’t have worried I found out that I forgot to bring a towel. I had to lower my sights and walk back out like Pee Wee Herman.
I had to settle for walking around the ½ mile track 11 times. There was some good news though, I received a call that I could come in at 5:45 PM instead of 11:00 PM if I wanted. Seems like the new guys get the really early morning times and the really late times. Anyway,
By the way I finally got to put to use the tanning oil I brought down. No, not for tanning, but for putting into frozen-up key locks.
I’d recommend the dark tanning oil myself. Hawaiian Coconut 30 SPS is my choice.
The place I’m staying is called the New Englander and considering how small it is, it’s an appropriate name. I didn’t really see how well the name fit until I’d been here a few days. The New England States are pretty small and densely populated, much like this apartment. It’s OK until I walk into it, then it gets kind of claustrophobic and over-populated.
In hindsight I’m really glad that HB had me pack the things I did. Extra underwear, deodorant, extra socks, and stuff like that. I knew that I’d need stuff like towels for the gym and gym shorts.
I finally got to go to the gym and get signed up. I was ready to tear that place apart. The veins in my neck were pumping and I was breathing deeply. I could just see myself walking in like Pee Wee Herman and walking out like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was ready! I walked around getting the lay of the land and decided I’d go to the weight room. I did notice a sign that that said “No Towel, No Weights.” The mean side of me wanted to get out my permanent marker and write underneath it “No Problem.” Well, as I was getting dressed for the workout and just determining which shorts to wear I discovered a problem. I couldn’t decide if I should wear my weightlifting shorts, my running shorts, my badminton shorts, my basketball shorts, my walking shorts, my swimming shorts, my jogging shorts, or my basketball shorts. I needn’t have worried I found out that I forgot to bring a towel. I had to lower my sights and walk back out like Pee Wee Herman.
I had to settle for walking around the ½ mile track 11 times. There was some good news though, I received a call that I could come in at 5:45 PM instead of 11:00 PM if I wanted. Seems like the new guys get the really early morning times and the really late times. Anyway,
By the way I finally got to put to use the tanning oil I brought down. No, not for tanning, but for putting into frozen-up key locks.
I’d recommend the dark tanning oil myself. Hawaiian Coconut 30 SPS is my choice.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Wed., Feb. 17
After another day of humiliation and embarrassment followed by shock and awe I decided to look on the bright side and have a salad for lunch. I’m going to limit myself to one eating-out meal a day, and I’ll try to make it a good one. I really don’t want to cook. Maybe boil water but that’s it. Anyway, I went to the hospital cafeteria to have that meal. I loaded up a plate of just salad. I knew that HB would be really happy with my choice. It did have a little of everything except meat products as Loma Linda is a SDA institution. The closest thing to meat was the Free-Range Baco Bits. Anyway the bill came to $11.03 for a plate of salad. I probably won’t be eating too much salad there anymore.
Well it was a successful day. I took off on a hike after lunch with no definite destination in mind and I arrived safely. Actually, I did go to look for some geocaches on the hillside south of here. You can actually see barren hilltops over the tops of the houses, so that was my goal; to actually hope that there were some caches up there. I found three that looked to be in that general direction and loaded them into the GPS. It was getting kind of sunny and the roads were steeper than what they looked from the bottom. The first rule of geocaching is that “The shortest distance between two points is not always a straight line.” That’s especially true around houses with dogs. I couldn’t find the first one even though I walked around all sides of a house. I swear it must be on the roof or in the back yard. 0/1.
I did discover that there are oranges, lemons, and grapefruits just laying on the ground, in the street, and on the sidewalks. They’re everywhere! And I just went to the store and bought about $10 worth. Let’s just say I’ll be eating a lot of fruit but not buying any at the store.
The second gecoache was a little difficult to find even though it appeared that it was just off the road. I had just about given up when I noticed this white official looking pickup with a light bar pull up and park about 100’ down the road under a tree. I was thinking that since I had passed all those signs that said “This is Neighborhood Watch Neighborhood” some good Samaritan neighbor was watching and called the law on me. “Officer, he’s a dangerous looking sort. Ball cap on his head, something about ‘Bigfoot Lives’ on it. He looking for something, but he looks like he’s lost, appears to be walking around in circles mumbling 'yum, yum' noises to himself,“ I can hear her say.
I poked around a little bit more and actually found the cache. Yes, just where the hint said it would be. I sat down on the curb and logged it half expecting to have the white pickup drive up slowly and the guy get out of the pickup and say, “Whatca’ doin’ son?” He didn’t. I put it back in its place and walked back down the road past the pickup still expecting him to be watching me and ask me what I was doing there. I noticed as I got closer it was a Code Enforcement Officer for the City of Loma Linda. I thought that there was some kind of code against looking for geocaches in Loma Linda. I needn’t have worried, he had the seat back and was asleep.
I actually did find a way to get to the top of the hill without cutting through anyone’s yard. Of course the cache was meant to be found by coming up the hill from the other side from another street from who knows where. Anyway, I went down the other side and tromped around but couldn’t find it. I figured I covered about 8 miles today, and my ankles are telling me all about it.
Well it was a successful day. I took off on a hike after lunch with no definite destination in mind and I arrived safely. Actually, I did go to look for some geocaches on the hillside south of here. You can actually see barren hilltops over the tops of the houses, so that was my goal; to actually hope that there were some caches up there. I found three that looked to be in that general direction and loaded them into the GPS. It was getting kind of sunny and the roads were steeper than what they looked from the bottom. The first rule of geocaching is that “The shortest distance between two points is not always a straight line.” That’s especially true around houses with dogs. I couldn’t find the first one even though I walked around all sides of a house. I swear it must be on the roof or in the back yard. 0/1.
I did discover that there are oranges, lemons, and grapefruits just laying on the ground, in the street, and on the sidewalks. They’re everywhere! And I just went to the store and bought about $10 worth. Let’s just say I’ll be eating a lot of fruit but not buying any at the store.
The second gecoache was a little difficult to find even though it appeared that it was just off the road. I had just about given up when I noticed this white official looking pickup with a light bar pull up and park about 100’ down the road under a tree. I was thinking that since I had passed all those signs that said “This is Neighborhood Watch Neighborhood” some good Samaritan neighbor was watching and called the law on me. “Officer, he’s a dangerous looking sort. Ball cap on his head, something about ‘Bigfoot Lives’ on it. He looking for something, but he looks like he’s lost, appears to be walking around in circles mumbling 'yum, yum' noises to himself,“ I can hear her say.
I poked around a little bit more and actually found the cache. Yes, just where the hint said it would be. I sat down on the curb and logged it half expecting to have the white pickup drive up slowly and the guy get out of the pickup and say, “Whatca’ doin’ son?” He didn’t. I put it back in its place and walked back down the road past the pickup still expecting him to be watching me and ask me what I was doing there. I noticed as I got closer it was a Code Enforcement Officer for the City of Loma Linda. I thought that there was some kind of code against looking for geocaches in Loma Linda. I needn’t have worried, he had the seat back and was asleep.
I actually did find a way to get to the top of the hill without cutting through anyone’s yard. Of course the cache was meant to be found by coming up the hill from the other side from another street from who knows where. Anyway, I went down the other side and tromped around but couldn’t find it. I figured I covered about 8 miles today, and my ankles are telling me all about it.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The treatment will officially start tomorrow even though I went through the entire process today. It's just like getting x-rays taken at the dentists office except for the fact that you're doing it without any clothes on and you're bare naked lying in a coffin-like molded plastic piece of half-rounded PVC pipe and they aren't aiming anything at your mouth.
Oh, yeh, FYI, they still haven't improved on the hospital gowns. Since the time of Florence Nightengale they've been stuck on the same style. They're still short on zippers, buttons, or velcro and long on drafts.
So, it's not painful or invasive only humiliating, embarrassing, and drafty. I take that back, it is invasive. Think a colonoscopy that they don't put you out for. It's a good thing that I have a high tolerance for embarrassment. Here's something that you can get your mind around. There's a donut (white frosting) looking thing that swirls around you and it's shooting protons into targeted areas of the affected area. Clothes off to clothes on? About 15-20 minutes which leaves about 23 hours 40-45 minutes to actually shop for donuts.
I guess with some guys there's a minor incontinence problem. In fact, someone that had the treatment put together a flyer that lists all the public bathrooms within a 5 mile radius of the hospital.
I found the Drayson Center, which is a Health Club/gym. I can get a membership there since I'm a proton treatment.
Jim
Oh, yeh, FYI, they still haven't improved on the hospital gowns. Since the time of Florence Nightengale they've been stuck on the same style. They're still short on zippers, buttons, or velcro and long on drafts.
So, it's not painful or invasive only humiliating, embarrassing, and drafty. I take that back, it is invasive. Think a colonoscopy that they don't put you out for. It's a good thing that I have a high tolerance for embarrassment. Here's something that you can get your mind around. There's a donut (white frosting) looking thing that swirls around you and it's shooting protons into targeted areas of the affected area. Clothes off to clothes on? About 15-20 minutes which leaves about 23 hours 40-45 minutes to actually shop for donuts.
I guess with some guys there's a minor incontinence problem. In fact, someone that had the treatment put together a flyer that lists all the public bathrooms within a 5 mile radius of the hospital.
I found the Drayson Center, which is a Health Club/gym. I can get a membership there since I'm a proton treatment.
Jim
Trip down
Again, the trip down was uneventful. The trip went well until I got in the car and the GPS lady came on. You know, the pleasant one that really wasn’t so nice. The first words out the GPS were, “Just do what I say and nobody will get hurt.” I think that she knows that I blamed her for our previous off-route foray. Yes, the one I learned a bunch of new four-letter words from. Anyway, Sandi and I entered in Chuck’s address and I took off. We’ve named the GPS lady, Mavis Beacon, but she needs a proper language check.
I arrived at Chuck’s about 7:30 PM. I think that Mavis took me on a rather circuitous route. I picked up on that after crossing the American River twice and given the fact that I could swear I ended up going back and forth on the same street. The final straw was when I asked Mitch and Dick the best way to get on I5 and it wasn’t anything close to the way Mavis told me.
Chuck and Mitch are getting along pretty well. Chuck is getting making improvement daily. Dick is having Chuck take his medications on a regular basis to keep his blood pressure down,
and Chuck is giving Dick enough crap to keep his blood pressure up. So I guess it’s a symbiotic relationship. By the way if you’re thinking of getting Chuck a new calendar, don’t bother. There are quite a few calendars spread throughout his house and none of them are close to the same month, and none are on the right month.
The drive down is very long. In case that you’re shopping early for Christmas trees I saw a lot along side the freeway in Modesto. Don’t even think about stealing one though as the County Jail is right next door. Coming down the Central Valley I passed a lot of ‘Happy California Cows’ on the hillsides. The happiest ones I’m sure were the ones that were looking down on the ones in the Harris Ranch feed lots. I entered in the location when I thought I may be getting close and found that I was still 122 miles away. Imagine driving from Crescent City to Medford all the while going from 80 MPH to a dead stop in 5 lanes of traffic. Once I got stopped behind a cattle truck that had “Flirtin’ with Disaster” lettered on the back. I got around it as quick as possible. So much for LA being the ‘City of Angels.‘ I’ve been down here for 12 hours and I haven’t seen an angel yet. Nope, not even a cherub! Why can’t they be neighborly if I choose to drive 40 MPH in a 70 MPH zone? (Not really, I just made that up. I drive 50 MPH). I can confirm that either it’s really smoggy down here or the windshield wipers are possessed. They came on under a smoggy sky with not a raindrop in sight.
Gotta go to my first treatment.
I arrived at Chuck’s about 7:30 PM. I think that Mavis took me on a rather circuitous route. I picked up on that after crossing the American River twice and given the fact that I could swear I ended up going back and forth on the same street. The final straw was when I asked Mitch and Dick the best way to get on I5 and it wasn’t anything close to the way Mavis told me.
Chuck and Mitch are getting along pretty well. Chuck is getting making improvement daily. Dick is having Chuck take his medications on a regular basis to keep his blood pressure down,
and Chuck is giving Dick enough crap to keep his blood pressure up. So I guess it’s a symbiotic relationship. By the way if you’re thinking of getting Chuck a new calendar, don’t bother. There are quite a few calendars spread throughout his house and none of them are close to the same month, and none are on the right month.
The drive down is very long. In case that you’re shopping early for Christmas trees I saw a lot along side the freeway in Modesto. Don’t even think about stealing one though as the County Jail is right next door. Coming down the Central Valley I passed a lot of ‘Happy California Cows’ on the hillsides. The happiest ones I’m sure were the ones that were looking down on the ones in the Harris Ranch feed lots. I entered in the location when I thought I may be getting close and found that I was still 122 miles away. Imagine driving from Crescent City to Medford all the while going from 80 MPH to a dead stop in 5 lanes of traffic. Once I got stopped behind a cattle truck that had “Flirtin’ with Disaster” lettered on the back. I got around it as quick as possible. So much for LA being the ‘City of Angels.‘ I’ve been down here for 12 hours and I haven’t seen an angel yet. Nope, not even a cherub! Why can’t they be neighborly if I choose to drive 40 MPH in a 70 MPH zone? (Not really, I just made that up. I drive 50 MPH). I can confirm that either it’s really smoggy down here or the windshield wipers are possessed. They came on under a smoggy sky with not a raindrop in sight.
Gotta go to my first treatment.
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