Notes in the key of C

 Okay…..I went over the  proverbial “hill” when I turned thirty a few, I mean…several,  I mean quite a few……ahh…ACTUALLY……decades (Owwwwww…..the thought hurts!) ago.  Decades ago?   Wow!  And I can remember that far back, where I was and what I was doing.  I had moved here to the heart of the “Bible Belt” from California to keep the “little lady” happy.  Her family lived here and she wanted to move back and be close to her mama and daddy.  So, being in “love”,  I turned down a pay raise and promotion and moved with her, away from family and friends to about the last place on earth that I expected to live.  Long story short?…..we’re history….and that’s all that needs to be said about that.  I’m still here…but she’s moved on…..greener pastures….or whatever’s out there in her world.

Anyhowwww…………the big B-day came and went.  Where did that last year go?  Veteran of Foreign Wars, Vietnam veteran, Disabled American veteran, member of AARP………I claim to be qualified and/or affiliated with all of them.  I get senior citizen discounts at a few  places, a free senior citizen magazine that shows up in my mailbox ever month but as the sun dips down toward the horizon of my “50’s”,  I’m not sure how to act…my age.

What am I supposed to do when 1) so many of the people I meet who appear to be much older than I am are in fact years younger.  

 There’s a little bit of “snow on the roof” (very little), not a wrinkle in sight), no “crow’s feet” around the eyes (sure signs of aging, I’m told) and if I’m feeling alot better than I should be as the big “SIX-O” looms in the distant horizon (I’m not there yet, thank you),  I must confess,  I feel pretty damn good!  

“You’re HOW OLD?”  That’s a common reaction I get when others find out how old I am.  I’m used to it by now and it no longer surprises me.  But I know that over and above the benefits of “good genes”,  natural things that my racial ancestry provide to delay visible signs of aging and a history of being fitness conscious to some degree for the last forty years, give or take the appearing and disappearing periods of laziness sprinkled in there, all have contributed to my current state of well-being that I am enjoying this day and anticipate enjoying in the days ahead.

Most mornings find me at the fitness center,  burning those calories on the elliptical machine and following up with weight training.  Long hikes,  miles of river rides on my bike and hours in the hot, summer sun (working in the yard) only seem to energize me more.  I’m not bragging.  I’m just glad to feel the wayI do.  So, how should I feel at this stage of my life and how should I act? What’s my limit?  Who knows?  I’m too busy feeling good about, well…….feeling good.  The mind and body are strong, the skin is tight and tanned, life is good, there is so much to be thankful for and nothing to complain about.  Maybe acting your age is more about attitude, living each day to the fullest and less about being focused on the years that have gone by.  At least, that’s MY story, and yes……again…..I’m sticking to it.

P.S…….wow! Has it been THAT long since I wrote anything!  Hmmm…….the creative juices continue to flow.  These fingers just need to find their way to this keyboard more often, I guess.

     I’ve alway found those William Shatner “Priceline” commercials to be mildly funny and somewhat entertaining but never had the opportunity to use Priceline until recently.  Everyone knows that Priceline allows you to bid for lower rates on travel, car rental, hotels, etc.  Well, I must say that my overall experience has been  a nice surprise.  Great places to stay at what most would consider very reasonably priced.   For a 50-dollar bid,  we spent nights at very fine hotels like Courtyard by Mariott and Garden Inns by Hilton. Very nice. Clean, well maintained, down comforters, flat screen Tv’s, wireless Internet service (complimentary) and all the trimmings.  Of course, the BEST, or should I say the WORST of what Priceline bidding produced came on the last night in town.  The initial bid was rejected so I had to bump it up another few bucks.  You know that when you bid for a room, you can choose the quality level by the number of “stars” a hotel is rated at but once you submit your bid, you do not get to choose which one you stay at.  It’s a crap shoot.  And for the second bid, plus tax and the other stuff they tack on to the rental rate to milk as many dollars as they can out of you,  we got the “Red Lion”.  Now I would be quick to say that surely not every hotel that bears the “Red Lion” name is in the same condition as this one.  But it’s location, at the end of the road in a eerily dark corner along business I-80 should have been a clue.  Beat up and rundown, with a major portion of the rooms blocked off with yellow caution tape should kinda give you an idea of this place.  Kinda scary.   Our room was all the way around the back in semi-darkness where several other weary travelers had been sentenced to spend the night.  Complimentary bottled “Water for the Soul” provided in the room tasted like it might have been drawn from the toilet bowl, the rooms had adjoining doors, (can you say “Bates Motel” or “Psycho”?) and the water pressure in the shower head was adequate only if you had a lot of time to kill in the shower.  Not much more than a trickle!  Two-and-a-half-stars-plus?  That’s a laugh. On a scale of one to five stars,  I give the Red Lion, Arden Way, Sacramento…….one star…….BUT…..and in fairness to the establishment I must add that they seemed to be in the middle of some major (and sorely needed) renovation.  When all of that is completed, it should look alot better.  See….I’m fair.

Priceline…….Bill?……..I’m a believer and I will be using your website again soon!

     Okay,  so it didn’t seem like we’d been airborne too long and I notice that we’re starting to lose altitude.  First sign? I can feel my ears popping as the plane makes it’s descent and I take a peek out the window.   I know we’re supposed to make one stop on the way to Sacramento and that’s in Ontario (no, not Canada) California and as the plane gets lower and lower in the sky,  I remembered that the last time I was on a plane making a stop in Ontario that we had to fly through a huge cloud of smog suspended over the city like a thick, brown blanket of lung cancer and you couldn’t actually tell you were going to land on anything solid until the plane was nearly on the ground.  But where was that infamous brown cloud?  You could actually see the highways and landscape dotted with homes and businesses.  And then the answer came when I heard the pilot say, ”Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Phoenix, ……..   What???? Phoenix?  What the ….?  THAT’S why the skies over “Ontario” looked so clear.  We had a stopover there (in Phoenix) to dump some off and pick some up before continuing on to California. Let’s get the record straight.  I like Phoenix.  I like Arizona and a ”few miles” due north of Phoenix is a little place called Sedona that’s more spectacular than mere words can express.   Take me home country road!!!!!   Oh, mama!!!  THAT is my retirement destination of choice,  second only to a little piece of real estate on or near the north shore of  a certain Pacific island location.

     Arizona…….someday……I’ll stray…….your way……to stay.  Beautiful country, dry heat ( I can take it) and lots of sunshine. But…….back to the plane trip!   It’s those multiple take-offs and landings  one has to make to reach one’s destination that seems to draw particular attention to how rough and bumpy those runways really are.  Check it out the next time you fly.  With my death grip on the armrests, I’m just waiting for one or more of those tires to blow up.   The phrase “smooth landing” certainly was not referring to any plane that I’ve been on.  One would think that when these runways are built they put in the potholes in random spots to keep the airline passengers, who are already stressing from the flight on the edge of their seats until the plane stops at the terminal.

So, anyway, it’s up and down, takeoff and land and finally destination…Sacramento, California.  We made it!!  Now I can finally relax……that is…….relax until I pick up the rental car tomorrow and have to drive in this California traffic, where everyone’s a race car driver, in a hurry or late getting wherever they’re going.  Got some Valium’s that you can spare?

     So, I tell myself, “What am I worried about anyway?”  As I prepare to board this plane to California, what are the chances of it NOT making and making an unexpected stop somewhere between here and there? What are the odds? 1,000,000 to 1?  1,000 to 1?  100 to 1? 50/50?  Nothing’s going to happen! We’ll take off and land right on schedule, right?  I’m concerned for no reason,  I keep telling myself.  Why worry? Flying is supposed to be safer than driving, isn’t it.  Besides,  those airline mechanics are highly qualified to maintain the airplanes.  But then, mistakes DO happen.  What if one of them, who just happen to work on one of the planes I’ll be on,  just happens to come to work drunk, hung over or on drugs?  What if he’s a disgruntled employee who wants to get even with his boss and takes it out on the plane by leaving a bolt or two loose or something like that?  I won’t ever know until it’s too late!  What if the pilot is drunk?   What if we get caught in a lightning storm halfway there?  I’m being paranoid!  I’m stressing over nothing.   Why worry?  Once we get in the air, that’s it!  No turning back!  It’s out of my hands.  So I’m just going to quit worrying about it and get on that plane.  But wait…….I don’t HAVE to get on the plane.  That’s  right!  If I just change my mind (and I can do that) then I won’t  have to worry at all about not making it and planes going down.  I can drive to California instead.

     I think that’s what I’ll do.  No problem there.  It’ll take a little longer to get there but I won’t have to worry about anything…..EXCEPT……..drunk drivers on the road……..bad weather causing part of my route to be temporarily shut down…….my car breaking down in the middle of nowhere.

Guess I’ll take my chances with the plane

      It’s all history now but in the aftermath of Ice Storm 2007,  the mountains of debris that wait in huge mountains along the streets and in front of just about every home in the neighborhood and around town are a daily reminder of just how devastating this silent storm really was.  I remember clearly waking up in the early hours to the sounds, first of cracking, then the ultimate crashing sounds as so many trees in our neighborhood, including the two huge elm trees in our front yard surrendered to the weight of the freezing rain that turned to ice and wreaked havoc throughout the night.  Too nervous to sleep,  I bundled up and took a walk around,  being careful as I passed beneath tree branches that reached out over the street.   Needless to say,  if I could have slept with one eye open the rest of the morning,  I would have.  Still, that probably wouldn’t have helped if  a huge branch from the next door neighbor’s sycamore tree had landed on our roof.  As luck would have it (if you can call it luck) nothing landed on the house, although our backyard fence took a hard hit.  There was not too much left worth looking at after the ice brought down most of both of  the front yard elms and left a huge pile of trash along the street and in our front yard.
To add inconvenience to “injury”,  a branch that fell across the power line blew a transformer three blocks away leaving our area homes without power instantly and for days that followed.   One never fully appreciates the electricity that we often take for granted until suddenly, it’s gone.   The temperature inside drops quickly and that our rarely used wall furnace was pressed into service.  The mad scramble to find firewood, dry and suitable for burning in the fireplace in the den,  reveals that there much left on the wood pile.   It’s kinda like being in shock to come home to and be in a house where the temperature, normally a comfortable sixty eight degrees is suddenly much closer to freezing, unless we’re close to the wall furnace or the fireplace is burning.  The fishes in my aquarium were probably wondering what the heck happened as the water got colder and colder until I could longer read it on the thermometer because it had dropped so low.  As each cold day went by,  I was helpless with that situation and surprised that although they were not moving around very much that they were even surviving in what now had to be ice cold water.   Unfortunately, after the first four or five days, they all surrendered to the cold and died.  We moved the mattress into the den where the  wall furnace and fireplace were just so we could be able to have some warmth and be able to sleep.  Bedtime came early, not long after the sun went down and there was nothing left to do but sleep.

Outside and within days after the first horrific wave of ice and the resulting damage,  the fleets of repair trucks rolled into town from other states,  called in to help expedite the repair process and restore power in the area.  Hundreds of thousands were in darkness.  It was a site for sore eyes to see so much help arrive.  Unfortunately,  organization was sadly lacking and more could have been accomplished in less time otherwise.   At least,  I must say that at times my frustration and anger about what followed threatened to get the best of me.   These huge trucks, often ten or more in convoys,  showing little regard for safety,  routinely pulled out into and blocked the flow of traffic,  ran red lights,  and exceeded the speed limit to a dangerous degree during much of the time they were here.  Not only that but too often I would observe parking lot staging areas around town packed with these trucks, for who knows how long,  their occupants either standing around or sitting inside and doing nothing.   Can I blame them?  Maybe not and maybe responsibility goes back to those who failed to adequately organize and dispatch these people to the neighborhoods in darkness.    It was frustrating indeed to see them parked right next to the blown transformer and downed power line in our “neck of the woods” and then drive by later to find them gone and the  problem not taken care of.  Too much staging, too much sitting and not enough work going on from my point of view.

Nine days…….nine long, cold days AND nights before the power at our home was finally restored.  During that time,  daylight found us out in our yard, just like most of the neighbors,  cutting, stacking, piling debris  and trying to restore some sense of order.   Today,  several weeks removed from Ice Storm 2007,  most of the mess has been picked up by the city and our supply of firewood will be sufficient for the winters that lie ahead.  The aquarium has been cleaned and a new community of fish have replaced the others who perished and they seem to be enjoying all the room that comes with a 55-gallon home.

All is well,  but we will always remember those days of darkness when the ice moved in and the power went out.  Someone once said, “What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.” and I suppose there’s some truth in that.  The power is back on and we’re still here.

The wanna-be dancer in me has been set free! No more will I be the wallflower watching everyone else having a good time and wishing, just wishing that I could step out there on the dance floor and “cut the rug” with total abandon and complete disregard for what others might think.  Feels soooo good it always puts a smile on my face. No, I’m not talking about rock-n-roll dancing or two-stepping to a country melody.  It’s ballroom dancing, brothers and sisters.  That’s right……BALLROOM dancing.  I surprised myself, too because all my life as I was wishing I knew how to dance and just refused to because I felt so self conscious about never learning how to dance,  I never dreamed I would be taking lessons on the foxtrot, waltz, tango, cha cha, rumba and salsa.  Whaaaaat??  That’s “old folks” dancing, isn’t it?  Well, it might be to some and maybe I have aged and evolved that much but I’m telling you it’s good, clean fun, even for us “old folks”,  and good exercise too.  How nice it was to discover that I DON’T have two left feet.  Of course, I’m going have to grease the hip bones up a little because they don’t seem to want to do what the dance tells them to do. How do you make the bottom half of your body move while the top remains in one position?  I need a swivel in the middle that’s just not there.  I suppose that’s Matt (stepson) and Laura’s challenge as they attempt to turn us into dancers.  One couple, two instructors. Nice ratio.

     Yes, we’ve got a professional dance instructor in this family and with the opening of his new ballroom dance academy here, came the opportunity for the little lady and I to learn how to dance.  No freestyle here! Not yet, anyway but at least I’m not as stiff as when I took my first steps on the dance floor.   Unfortunately, a few of those steps continue to land on my wife’s feet.  Maybe if could get in touch with my elusive (and surely non-existent) feminine side, I’d be able to look a little more fluid like those couples on “Dancing With The Stars”.   (Whoever came up with that idea, anyway, that men have a so-called “feminine side”?)  It’ll happen sooner or later.  One lesson at a time, two times a week,  practices in between,  dance videos  (can you say Salsa?)when we can find them and I believe we’re headed in the right direction.

        I think I hear the music playing.   SHALL WE DANCE??????

That’s right!  The big FIVE EIGHT has come and gone and honestly?……I’m feeling pretty good.  Hey, I’ve been taking care of myself and even after working all night long, I still have the discipline and commitment to head straight to the gym before going for a good night’s (OOPS! I mean day’s) rest.  I’ve never felt the need to lie about my age and I’m not going to start now.  I will admit some things have changed such as my approach to conditioning.  Back in my earlier years,  it was all about lifting heavy, hitting your max,  getting huge,  taking supplements with a tunnel vision focus on size and strength.  That was then and now………a slight chance in attitude and priority.  A different focus.  Now it’s working from the inside out.  The cardio training comes first with the treadmill, treadclimber, and elliptical machine providing the means to burn calories, decrease body fat, and build stamina.  Then the attention turns to resistance training.  No, no more heavy weights, low reps routines.  Now, it’s lighter weights, maximum reps, and area-specific workouts for definition, symmetry, and cardiovascular health.  The fitness centers carries the latest Nautilus equipment to provide opportunities for a complete workout without touching a single barbell or dumbell.  Niiiiiiiiiiiice!  So what does fify eight feel like in these shoes? Not too bad if I may say so myself.  Oh sure, those extra calories seem to want to congregate right at the waistline and it’s a constant battle against the “bulge”.  The war continues and I’m losing pounds and gaining ground on my efforts to drop that waistline another couple of inches anyway.  So many sweet temptations out there testing my willpower on a daily basis.  Most times I can resist and sometimes I don’t. You might call it the yin and the yang of the cheese/jelly Danish.  It’s bad but damn,  it sure does taste GOOD!  For what it’s worth, that second opinion of others seems to be ” you don’t look THAT old” and that’s positive feedback, isn’t it?  Anyway, maybe it’s just about self image and being happy about how you look and feel at any point of your life.  The rest of it……..it’s just gravy, that’s all.

I’m changing gears nowadays and I can tell you that it’s not easy.  After working so many years on the day shift and being so accustomed to sleeping after the sun goes down, trying to make the transition to being up all night and getting into bed in the morning when I’m usually hitting the floor is messing up my circadian rlythm. I’m not complaining really.  I’m trying to adjust. It’s true that I was in the habit of staying later than I should anyway but I tell you that around 2:30-3:00 in the morning when the urge to “crash” is the greatest,  I must remind myself that to sleep then when I’m being paid to be awake would mean instant unemployment and the last time I checked the bank account, I was not quite ready to give up that paycheck that keeps showing up every two weeks as required.

    Sooooo, as a means of helping these eyes stay open in the wee hours of the morning when the rest of America relaxes in lala land, I reach for my second Starbuck’s drink, in this case, a triple grande cinammon dolce latte, and start sipping and hoping it’ll help me from falling over backwards in my chair.  I’m thinking about hooking myself with a short rope to the desk in front me at about midnight. That way, if I fall it will be face first forward into the keyboard and I’ll wake right back up.  It’s just a thought.  I’m working on a better idea.  I did learn that covering the windows to darken the room and a little “white noise” from the fan both help the situation and I’m gradually getting a little more sleep as the days go by.

   Maybe there is an up side to working nights.  I’m writing again. It’s been awhile….but I’m back.

    When I opened the morning paper and saw this  headline.  the answer to this question and circumstances that support it all came to mind instantly.  So, let me ask YOU?  Does the organization who employs you really care about you as an individual?  I remember the motto of a large computer products company in California, where I worked for six years, that states, “Every person deserves to know the significance of his/her job”.  So……if you are one who’s always on time, rarely misses a day,  works diligently, strives to complete each task to the best of his/her ability and never complains or “makes waves”,  how secure do you feel about your job?

     It’s true, so many people go to work just to take home a paycheck once a week or twice a month, depending on your particular situation.  Just show up every day, do just enough to meet minimal expectations, don’t contribute any more than is necessary, never volunteer and punch out at the end of your eight hours and go home.   If the only thing you find rewarding about your job is the paycheck,  then you’ll probably be more likely to quit and walk out in response to any incident that makes you mad enough to leave.  You tell yourself, “I was looking for a job when I came here so I can find another one when I leave”.  You have no commitment…it’s just a paycheck.

      Maybe, you’re the devoted employee,  hard-working, willing to focus your abilities, energy and ideas to benefit your employer and after years of service, you learn that the company is downsizing, or planning to outsource jobs to China or Mexico, where people are willing to do your job for a fraction of what you’re paid.  Rumours swirl and eventually reveal themselves to be true that the doors will close for the last time at your location because the company is consolidating and moving operations to another state.  Some will be offered to relocate and others will be laid off,  which simply is the company’s way of saying, “See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya!”

     So, “smell the coffee, folks!”  In the real world of business,  the individual rides the bottom rung of the priority ladder.The bottom line, “the almighty dollar”, rules and makes changes in the rules.  Companies expect two weeks notice when you intend to leave a job but will fire you on the spot.  It’s true, some situations warrant immediate termination but it’s not always a “innocent until proven guilty” scenario and justice in the workplace is a pipe dream and a search for “a needle in a haystack”.

  Hijacked planes.  Pentagon targeted.  Towers fall.  Thousands die.  Terrorists celebrate.  America’s pissed. Find Osama.  Get Sadaam.  “Butcher” toppled.  Hussein nabbed.  Lengthy trial. Eventually hung.  Osama hides.  Inspectors sent. W.M.D.’s disappear.  Troops sent. President determined.  War rages.  Many dying.  Suicide bombers.  Lives lost.  Toll climbs.  Families weep.  No more. Get out!  More troops? ……No way!  Still determined.  Wannabe candidates. Majority party.  Cry foul!  President lied?  Who knows?

     Approval rate dropping.  Red, white, blue.  Colors don’t run?  Where IS Osama?  Democracy in Iraq.  Can it work? Are we dreaming?  Axis of evil.  Iran….our friend?  No, not anymore.  Major world power.  Cut and run?  Hide the flag? Celebrities weigh in.  Opinions like a..holes. Everybody’s got one.

     Voted for, then against.  Pulse of the nation.  Bring our soldiers home.   But what happens after?  Will peace really follow?  Sh-t hits the fan.  Bad guys take control. We say, “Oh,well”.  We run, they win.  What about the oil?