AircooledUnderground

There and back again. Surviving the "Scan Scam"

2011-12-11T11:36:00.001-08:00

Back from Paris. Early than expected but was compensated sufficiently. Again confirming this change in how to survive the madness of multinational corps in their quest for a "New World Order" or whatever.
Nonetheless we regular folks must work around the nonesense and continue to survive.

Coming back on the plane the radiologist next to me says.
"Feel bad for the TSA folks. They are exposed to radio active material all day without protection. And if there is a leak in the back scatter device, hours of exposure is catastrophic"
What about us, I ask?
"We're reasonably safe. No worse than the radioactive pollution we experience from all the failed, faulty, and leaking nuclear plants."
Some how I was not reassured.
Back in the " States" I noticed how few people on the streets, the price of food and goods has risen by thirty to forty five percent, Oil companies have record profit and fuel is more expensive in ratio to cost, than ever before.
There has to be a new word for "Greed" because these few that benefit must be beyond psychopathic in their consumption.

Wonder upon wonder, the government endorses the ill behavior through complicity and outright media censorship. One puppet or another, that is who we can vote for.
Where is the remedy?
It is with us. We have always and will always survive this blight. We prevail because we are not inbred.
We, the people.
They, the parasites.
We the humans. and They?
Well they have no idea what they are, really.
Or what awaits them.

Looking for work in all the right places

2011-09-23T10:31:00.000-07:00

As a kid I remember the first job I found was at a local theater in Northern California. I was eleven. After the Saturday kids matinee let out at the only theater in town, we would wait for our parents or walk home. Somehow I got to talking to the "punch drunk" retired fighter that cleaned up the theater. I asked if he needed help and I worked.
I always worked. Sure, there were times and places where jobs were scarce but a living wage was there.

Our economy is ransacked and exploited. Things were changed for America. Wars and crooked contract firms have depleted us, We've be sold out.

I retired once, then had to work again, tried to retire again, and had to return to work. And now I am Paris where I have the only job, in my field , I can find.
Crazy. I would rather be in Oregon fixing my fences, and bucking up the two trees laying in the woods,

TARFU Blues

2011-08-03T22:31:00.000-07:00

When I came back from overseas, I never expected the nonsense and drama we are going through. I assumed the Gov was working for us small guys. Guess that was a sucker bet.
Time to vote for someone who is for the average man and woman who are trying to make ends meet, feed themselves and their kids, and get a living wage job.
Maybe get a newspaper with news.
So turn off the radio, roll up the sleeves and do what I can. Try to stay out of the line of fire. Cops and criminals, politicians and evangelists, Multinational corps and used car dealers. they all are grabbing at your money any way they can but give nothing of any value back Screwy laws to protect the rich, Big corps, oil companies and we all, real Americans, get poorer. Where will it end?
It will end at the beginning of something, hopefully, better.
Meanwhile I will patch the leak in the roof, make the fire barrier around the house the law the insurance lobby forced into the state senate and try to sell the homestead before the Chinese foreclose on our country.
Funny, everything made at the plumbing supply is made in China. Now how did that happen? I don't remember getting to vote on dropping the tariffs on Chinese goods.
Did my representative do it? I guess he doesn't represent me. Who does he represent? I guess I just have to figure it out by how he votes or maybe by who is contributors are.
Gotta go, gotta "slave" away.

City Art ?

2011-05-27T22:52:00.000-07:00

Graffiti.
Unsolicited art.
Like any art form, it can be pleasing to the eye, engaging, and reassuring.
Art is a message, it is a message reflecting the artist.
Graffiti as far as "The Government" is concerned is generally unlawful.
So unwanted, and unsolicited advertizing of one's view of the world and or issues in the world is unlawful.
Perhaps we should invoke those laws against State sanctioned graffiti such as billboards.
Graffiti on clothes we buy, shoes we wear, cars we drive, television shows most people watch.

Remember, before cable companies outlawed television transmissions, all you needed was a television set, an antenna, and electricity to get television?
Now most Americans pay for being given a shabby product filled with graffiti called commercials, "product placement", and other Graffiti that is touted as "television programming".

In the picture, the side of a produce truck in Paris has been illustrated beautifully. Although the woman shows no evidence of being involved or holds no spray can, her proximity could be grounds under the Patriot Act for Rendition . (Humor)

The message is unclear to me but what I enjoy is the unusual and the colorful. It was done with care, intent, and artistic professionalism. It took a surface that is drab and lifeless to a point of unique form and color.

Not all Graffiti is so well crafted, and many would say, Graffiti is a way of tagging territory. Ask Coke or Pepsi if they tag, if they intrude with mindfully crafted billboards to influence us to part with our money to consume colored sugar water. I doubt they would deny it.
Who really makes the decision?

Applied pedal magic

2011-05-22T05:46:00.000-07:00

Bikes, scooters, and motorcycles besides having a somewhat romantic flare to the streets of Paris, seem to be the most effective mode of transportation. Caught on a bus at rush hour in downtown, a simple glance out the window is a scene of motor scooters, bicycles, and motorcycle weaving their way through the stalled, cars, trucks, buses and errant tourists.

Almost a theatrical grace as business women and businessmen in suits and dress, elegantly pedal, throttle, and gently brake in flow akin to dolphins swimming amongst lumbering whales.
Here a little shop in the Latin Quarter takes the time to repair bikes, work on restoring the old and maintaining a cultural heritage that is part of the romance of this city.

Beginning of the end or the end of the Beginning. A Rant

2011-05-22T00:53:00.000-07:00

Sitting in Paris, watching the first space walk of STS 134 mission to the ISS. Watching it on a computer that is, both, an indirect and direct result of the technology gained from this Endeavor (pun). One more shuttle will be launched after this one. With an end to our shuttle program comes unemployment for thousands of Americas most highly trained, expertly experienced, loyal, dedicated and intelligent workers. It also ends hundreds if not thousnd small business who supplied support goods and services to the program.
This sweeping move of the Obama administration, Retired General and administrator Bolton to scrap the Orion Program and the Constellation program without consulting or alerting Congress, as is their duty to Congress as the American people's elected representatives, has been and is a blow to our leadership in the World, in Space and as a free country with a representative government.

However we maintain a flow of billions of tax dollars for war, occupying other countries and maintaining a quasi state of marshal law in our country. Thousands of the best of the best lose their jobs,and we lose our position as world leaders of Freedom, the congress keeps the unpatriotic Patriot Program alive with it's billions of dollars wasted on searches , unconstitutional invasions of privacy, incarceration, eavesdropping, and the frivolous, useless, and degrading searches of senior citizen, women and children at airports.
The disconnect of our government and the people they are bound by law and the Constitution to serve, has grown worse, when we voters thought we had voted out the madness of the previous 8 years.
Regardless of your opinion of America's Space Shuttle program, it has been one of the most remarkable and admirable feats of Heroism, Exploration, and Knowledge in the name of all humanity and progress.
I salute the all those who have given so much of themselves in this honorable mission.
End of Rant.

Take a short ride with me in Paris

2011-05-17T23:58:00.000-07:00

This is the Number 85 that goes from Luxembourg Park to Mairie de Saint-Ouen.

Buses are buses most places. The system here is much better than any of the few systems at home. In the early 50's in America we had great transit system. In the San Francisco bay area they had the Red line. Oil and automotive shell companies bought them out and tore out the tracks. Commuters were forced to buy cars to get to work. Profits soared and, as we can feel it now, there is nothing stopping them. Oil companies and their owners hold the consumer, our country, and our economy hostage. They generate wars, and pressure law makers to provide them immunity from taxation, over site, and real environmental protection enforcement.

If we are slaves to this madness, then we are far worse off than an ordinary slave because we don't know we are slaves. Fear is what a slave feels and fear is what the slave own generates to control his slave (property). What generates fear in our country?

Our individual and group strength comes from where and when we pay for fuel, food, and other items. Our choices cast a vote that Corporations respond to.

The price of fuel directly impacts every single item that is transported, manufactured, or grown. And on top of the pyramid is government sales tax and income tax. The citizen consumer, us, get it milked from all sides.

Meanwhile, a bus ride in a Country that fought with us for our independence and helped free us from the British rule and exploitation, is a welcome moment for simple enjoyment.

Paris Redeux

2011-05-16T00:13:00.000-07:00

OK. Here is the confession. This is Paris. This is the Latin Quarter. This is a free tiny apartment. This is a view of the Pantheon. Yes the flight was a bear. No, it did not cost me much since the flight was sponsored. Yes, the major cost is the weekly transit pass for Metro, bus and RER (city area train).
No, no museum visits. Yes, lots of walking. No, eating out at restaurants. Yes, the weather is great. Yes, most folks speech English and much better than most of us.
And finally, Yes, the apartment internet was just turned on.
And yes, I wish you were here.

ln the name of the Sun. (but I digress)

2011-03-17T12:51:00.000-07:00

As absurd, absolutely meaningless and grammatically inane dogmatic hyperbole such as "global warming" and "war on terror" are, we cannot forget it is not the fault of corp/govt controlled media, it is our fault for believing.

Being sold the notion is victimization, buying the notion is accepting our role in the mess. Yes, empowerment.

In the aforementioned context, I refused to buy the notion I had to remain in the cold, windy, raining, miserable, thunder, and lightning, weather and made the decision to go south to sun, warmth, blue skies, and simple elegance of San Diego. I arrived late in the day and the next morning had coffee, reveled in the blue sky and walked, bathed in sun, at a easy pace feeling the warmth in all it's tonic glory.
Thankfully for a time, I am not thinking of the greedy, drooling, and grotesque creatures exploiting us with grossly inflated prices for fuel, food, and necessities.
No, I haven't forgotten the tragedy in Japan. I have no skills to offer.
I do my part by not driving.
While the supertankers steam in circles in the ocean to increase profits for the likes of British Petroleum, by not driving for two days a week we can cause a bloat the could drive down the price for fuel here by simple supply and demand tactics. (China, according to Nationmaster.com, is paying about $2.40 a gal before the new govt tax [they learned the trick from us].)
British Petroleum needs to remember the Boston tea party, and that we kicked their fannies once, for financial skulduggery, and we can do it again.
But I digress.
(Time for my free refill of coffee. )
Ahh warmth!

Blog bog

2011-03-14T10:01:00.000-07:00

The trail to a new blog seems to be fraught with more user trepidation than anything else.
What is it that makes a good blog site.
First and foremost is ease. A blog site easy to handle and use enhances the experience and allows the blogger to focus on the blog instead of navigating numerous bells and whistles, time wasting obstacles.
For the enthusiastic blogger there would be plenty of tools that allow both simple and complex additions to the blog.
Finally, the blog should be secure and free from commercial saturation adverts or harassment.

Seems like it would not be too much to ask but then again for ease of use is as open to the "good" as to the "bad"
For this blog site I am grateful for it's ease of use. Of course it is an individual opinion and experience. Down the road may be different. What is wonderful is the opportunity to share with others. Sharing frustrations, enjoyments, observations, revelations, experiences and thoughts is certainly a full expression of what it is to be human. While we still have some freedom left, let's enjoy it with a rich and abundant amount of blogging.

Putting the cold behind

2011-03-09T22:59:00.000-08:00

Global Warming BS.
The Pacific Northwest has been unseasonably and unreasonably cold and wet.
Darn near lost the pipes to the cold and had ice in the house..
Made the best of it with a drive up to Prospect and Union Creek for coffee, talk and a hot lunch.

That was a few weeks ago and now the snow is still in hills but not on the flats. Creek behind the house js still loud and busy. Turkeys, squirrels, and the like are busy as well.

It seems to be getting to where Spring is coming up soon. We can count on the seasons. Seasons are simple fact. There is great comfort in a good reliable and honest season.
Like anything that happens, we prepare, make due, endure and if a problem arises, take care of it the best way we can. Action. I have never gotten wood split by complaining to my neighbor. Never got the broken pipes fixed by writing a letter. Just the way it is just about whereever you are.
I guess we getting over Nature's storms and about to have storms made by greed and corruption. We'll get through it one way or another but not by complaining.
Guess it's time to split wood,

2007-07-23T07:43:00.000-07:00

thinking of you ~

Gypsy Heart

2007-05-30T13:15:00.001-07:00

Our hearts like birds toying with dust devils of worry as we looked at the bridge.

A bridge is a way over something, It is the point of transition. We don't lose anything by crossing the bridge since we are connect to where we are.
You and I are on the bridge. Were are inbetween and in someways in the "sweetspot" of the new. What a wonder is living on the bridge.

I type this with my fingers, I read it with my eyes, I am guided by my heart, and I am warm in memory.
Is there a fantasy? Yes. I picture a couple laughing, exploring and living. The fantasy is filled with what can be. So easy to keep the fantasy, keep living on the bridge.
Below the water laughs at fantasy and winks back at the sun with sparkling ripples as if in silent knowledge shared.
I would rather spend my life on the bridge with you than lose you.

2007-04-01T19:48:00.000-07:00

I love this picture!

Cottage Dreams

2007-03-25T16:27:00.000-07:00

When I came up from the small wooden barn I took a short cut. I went across the tall uncut pasture. The grass and soft rich earth were a heady mixture of scents on a warm day. I could see her in the distance. Her back to me and sitting on the freshly cut meadow grass.

I paused to enjoy the beauty of the scene. How serene she looked. How incredibly blessed I was. Then I laughed to myself. Her eyes would twinkle and she would smile at my corny thoughts in a most loving way.
I continued on.

Walking through the tall grass I saw the roof of the cottage. I glanced at the roof of the cottage and sighed relief that it was fit for more seasons to come. No work would come in between my sweetheart and her man. The thought of evening together on the porch and sitting before the fireplace rose from my heart to my mind. We said so much to each other with silence of joined companionship.

Steps away I rolled up my shirt sleeves and came up behind and wrapped my arms around her waist.
I knew she was back from getting supplies and we were set for sometime.

Time for us to be together without a care in the world.

As I wrapped my arms around her she tilted her head back. Her hair on my shoulder. Her fragrance so deep and intoxicating I felt light headed. I breathed deeply and put her hands on top of mine.
Time stopped and the silent explosion of joy filled our hearts.

2007-03-19T20:13:00.000-07:00

2007-03-14T09:32:00.000-07:00

aw, Cap, I suppose you get the picture. I wished I knew how you are.

tadpole tales and cricket talk

2007-02-28T19:25:00.000-08:00

Lickity split those little devils. Hopping about and playing. Are they impetious or what! Why can't they calm down and be. And be what?
Let kids play, let them talk, let them grow and bloom into a hope and a vision

Time to lay on a grassy bank and look at still water eddy in a creek. Watch the water skimmers bend their reflection, and dance above the tadpoles looking towards the shore.
And as the sun goes down the crickets begin to talk. We really like the music and for the most part, skip the lyrics.

Springs comes foreward in the country with full band of music.
Play on

2007-02-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

The Sylvers - Boogie Fever

I'm boogied out, tonight, Cap!

I see you left a post at my place, but I could not fully appreciate it tonight as much as I would want to so I'll just say goodnight. Hugs to ya, Cap.

2007-02-22T20:08:00.000-08:00

Cap,

Have I told you lately ...

how much you

warm my heart

and make me smile and giggle!

I'm glad you're here

I'm thankful for you, and appreciative too

just wanted you to know.

yours truly, Calamity! say goodnight Pecos!

2007-02-20T08:54:00.000-08:00

My relationship ? I can think of a few phrases ...

Out of state.

Out of sight.

Out of mind.

Lives in his little million-dollar world, while I struggle here and am alone.

He's Jewish. Doesn't that explain a lot ?

Nope, I am NOT Jewish.

He's MARRIED ... I used to think I didn't care.

... well, there you have it, Cap ... just in case you were wondering

2007-02-20T08:49:00.000-08:00

I guess time heals all wounds, eh, Cap? Sorry for the rambling . It does make me feel better just to get it off my chest. I used to think a mother loved her young no matter what they did, but I have to tell ya, I can understand why some species eat their young! LOL ...

hey Cap ... just rambling ...

2007-02-16T21:37:00.000-08:00

I've been so bent lately with my grown daughter's drama, John's death, the beginning of the end of a relationship for me with a man I thought I adored; come to find out, it was all make-believe. Anyway, with the death of John (my ex) in August, my daughter and son-in-law sought solace doing drugs; heroin this time, shooting up; him and her both; right after the baby was born, 4th of July 2006. That kid never knew what it was like to be held while fed; his parents propped a bottle up in his mouth. I had gone over there several times, and they're "nodding" and he's nasty, little Bella was nasty, the house was in shambles; my heart was broken. I'd just take Bella with me. I couldn't handle to see them being so drugged out. His parents dried them out at their house, but they were in for a rude awakening; as they (their son and my daughter) had cleaned them out of thousands and thousands of dollars, wasted on their habit ... when they got "clean" supposedly that's when the real trouble started and their drug dealers came wanting their money; so they said. I remember a day here I got a phone call from Rae and she said Jeremy was being held at gunpoint in the bathroom and her and Bella, and the baby were hostages and if the didn't come up with $500.00 they were going to die. They already bled money from me, and his parents up to this point for whatever necessitated it. She said "they" were watching; no police; put the money in the mailbox; don't even try or somebody was getting hurt. At this point, I was thinking, well just go ahead and get it over with, I can't stand the pain of it all, but then frantic sets in, I call up his parents and they cough up the money; put it in the mailbox, but come to find it, it was all a big fat lie, a farce, made up by the two of them. all made up. all lies. The times she has come in here messed up, verbally abusing me, stealing my bankcard at one point, throwing a coffee cup at me, breaking it on my desk, seeing little Bella so terribly confused and hurt, and my daughter coming in here and demanding money ... telling me she wasn't leaving until she got money; that desperation, deceit, lies. I got scared for my safety. It was emotionally brutal. I don't trust either of them to tell me anything. Even though now I don't think they're doing drugs, it doesn't help change how I feel about what they've done. They don't even remember the shit they pulled, the lies they told, the hurt they did. I want to believe that they're clean and they're sorry, but deep down I just quit caring. I believe absolutely nothing they say. I hate feeling that way. I don't know if I'll ever get over it. I mourn still and cry nearly everyday. It's a mixture of things. Maybe I can write it out, I don't know. Thanks for listening.

Calamity Jane's Sweet Heart

2007-02-13T09:28:00.000-08:00

2007-02-11T20:53:00.000-08:00

Good Night, Craig !

and a

Good Morning to Ya !!

should you not get this until then !

2007-02-06T10:31:00.000-08:00

hold me close, tiny dancer.

The best dances are

2007-02-05T21:25:00.000-08:00

The best dances are when the moves are fluid and without thought. When the partners are one. When the best part of the other is the partner.
Nothing is perfect and when we are thinking of nothing we are......Perfect.
When two hands touch. When the presence is so close that body heat warms each other and the fragrance of proximity is a blend of excitement and calm.
The dance of the Shasta Daisy as it sways to face the Sun. A dance so slow we tend to never take the time to see it's subtle movement.
Like tears in the rain so much of what is around us is lost when we dance in the worst way.
Forget the dance of petulance, anger, frustration, resentment, blame and shame. Those are the frenetic dances of sadness and pain, the stumbling of fear and confusion, faltering steps of blame that lead to loneliness and solitarity.
Breathe and relax; listen and pause; Like the roots of the flower what is hidden and below is what nourishes the beauty above.
It is all about the best dance.
The dance done to the silent song of hearts.

Couch Surfer

2007-01-23T20:42:00.000-08:00

Like the uncle that hangs out but never gets a job. Sleeping on the couch, banging the fridge door. Always has some ailment that keeps work slightly out of reach. Makes like a magician when chores need to be done and is critical of everyone but.

Some times thoughts are like that. Uninvited and staying too long. Thoughts that bring up memories of what we "should" have done, what we "shouldn't" have done and what we "could" be but are not.
Critics that work for free in our minds digging up failings of the past. Irritants.
They dwell not by design but are a product in our cultured mind.
Like particles of grit.
So a lesson from the oyster is needed. The oyster feels that irritant and begins to coat it with the minerals it gleans from the sea. And as time goes on the irritant is coated with the smooth radiance we know that makes it a pearl.
And a liability becomes an asset.
Look past the irritation and more at what we can transform it into.

Letters from an angel

2007-01-22T00:10:00.000-08:00

Some of us are gifted and then some of us receive a gift.
These gifts come in many and varied forms. Some gifts are ones that build strength, some are supportive, some bring knowledge, others bring a ray of sunshine and more. Gifts add so much to our life, enrich our spirit, and seem to feed the soul.
When someone is willing to share of themselves to another it becomes more than a gift, it is a treasure.
When we are blessed enough to receive a letter from an angel it is a treasure of the heart.
Should we hear the angel's voice, it would come to us, and be heard, as a song that lifts the spirit.

I have been blessed with a letter from an angel and heard the song.
May you all have such an experience.

Streams within the River

2007-01-19T12:45:00.000-08:00

This wonderful journey we are on. The river of life. Always changing and always the same. So many streams within a river. Sometimes these streams choose us and sometimes we choose them.
Some streams flow along the surface and some flow deep. Other streams are filled with surprises that make them flow all over both deep and shallow.
What a joy to be in the stream and not trapped in the little eddies that go no where.
May the river of life flow strong and true for you. May the streams that you encounter be filled with adventure.

Flogging Thoughts

2007-01-16T16:39:00.000-08:00

Somewhat distraught I was flogging thoughts.
Some do it by endless chatter about not.
Others do it mentally which, I believe is the most socially acceptable method.
Now with the blog we may vent these flogged thoughts and share.
And afterall sharing is a bittersweet bliss.