Doc's Place: Travel

He Is Still Alive!

Thu, 08 Nov 2007 12:56:39 GMT

It appears that quite some time has passed since I last wrote anything to post. I have enough material from events since that time for at least a dozen posts. At this point in time I am uncertain whether to write them when I get the chance, condense them into two or three semi-digestible summaries, or try desperately to forget the whole week.

A very short update is in order, however. The Boys are doing fine, although their meals are being served in a somewhat unorthodox manner. They drink from a Waterford crystal bowl and eat their Fancy Feast from the inverted lid of a cottage cheese container. Their dry food is served from a carefully cut portion of a tissue box. I am glad that this does not bother them too much as I couldn't find (or have not yet dug deep enough into the moved cartons to find) their usual bowls. Bittle has only vomited on my carpet once from too-spicy treats. They have found four excellent observation posts and have taught me how far and at what angle to leave the blinds open for their viewing pleasure.

The AT&T land line was installed two days ago, and today Comcast installed their three service bundle - TV, Internet, and telephone service. The bundle was ~~cheaper~~ more economical than the basic TV and Internet alone would have been. Actually, the "Music Choice" feature on Comcast is the reason I am writing now. I found a late 50s and all 60s channel that grabbed me by the ears and hasn't let go. The first song I heard on it is one of my all time top ten favorites and the first tune I ever downloaded, The End of the World by Skeeter Davis. Surfin' Safari by the Beach Boys, another of my top ten is playing now. That is why I am not asleep. They have played about 346 of my top ten and how could anyone sleep through that?

Later today a new sofa and a mattress and box spring set will arrive at 25% off, courtesy of Firstborn, and with no delivery fee, courtesy of her second in command at the store. I will again empty the rented cargo van and pick up most of my computer stuff at the house. Saturday and Sunday should have me completely separated from the house with the removal of the final batch of old records to be shredded, hobby tools, and a few toy airplanes. My landlord may be a little surprised to find a 16 foot wingspan, near-scale model sailplane hanging from the living room ceiling but one has to keep them on their toes.

Peace, Doc

Here And There And Glasses And Hair

Thu, 24 May 2007 01:05:32 GMT

This post may be more haphazard than usual, but I suppose that my loyal fanbase has come to expect that of me anyway.

When I first arrived at my secret location I was informed that, among other things, a haircut and some pants that actually fit me might be a good idea. I was frightened when a pair of 31 inch waist jeans fit and I found that I had lost even more weight (hopefully a difference between scales.) I am pleased to report, however, that during my stay here I have gained over ten pounds. I see a possible correlation between this weight increase and eating real food rather than the easy, pre-packaged things I had been used to. This weight increase has occurred despite the loss of several pounds of hair. (At least it felt like that much.) You may judge for yourselves in the "before and after" shots below.

I don't know if you are able to see the difference of eyeglasses between the two pictures, but I certainly can, from the inside, out. The new ones in the picture on the right arrived a day or two after I did. I was more than pleased with their new look, weight, and the fact that I could again see. I didn't realize how much a cataract in my right eye had impaired my vision as it had developed slowly, over a period of 11 years, since first being detected. The correction to 20/25 in that eye gave me headaches for a few days but is well worth it as I am again able to see such things as signs, yellow highway line "suggestions," and people accurately.

Following the purchase of some new boot cut Levi's, a dressier shirt, a sport coat, and a few other items, I was deemed almost acceptable to appear publicly. All things considered, this "makeover" has greatly increased my self-confidence and my belief in my ability to return to doing what I am still intended to do; work more actively as a psychologist.

More later. I apologize to all for not returning emails or commenting on blogs for a while and I am astounded at what little cyber-withdrawal has occurred while returning to the land of the living. I know now that leaping out of my box and far from my comfort zone has been absolutely the right decision.

Peace, Doc

"It ain't what they call you, it's what you answer to." W. C. Fields

Well, Maybe It Wasn't An Alligator

Sat, 19 May 2007 02:03:28 GMT

It sure sounded like an alligator to me, though. And it was the biggest, loudest, roaring-est frog I've ever encountered! And it was close. It was about ten feet, or so, away from the pier on which I was sitting, watching the local pond society. As time passed, I heard four other large frogs, all presumably letting their presence be known to the ladies. My frog bested their attempts by adding a melody line to his roar, all the while lurking there unseen amid the rushes and lily pads. I saw egrets, a Blue Heron, Red-Shouldered Hawks, Scissor-Tailed Flycatchers, dragon-flies, and more. Of course I didn't have my camera with me on that trip.

My friends said I got lost. I looked at the situation differently, as I knew perfectly well where I was the whole time. It was they that couldn't find me, rather than the reverse. After an academic discussion of the meaning of the term "lost" from differing psychological and systems perspectives, we agreed to disagree and that I would tell them when I planned not to be lost the next time. I very much wanted to return to the pond with a camera to photograph what I had missed, and did so a few days later. Unfortunately the return was not at a prime time for raptors or water birds so I didn't get some shots I wanted. I captured one that I would never have expected, though, when a female Great-Tailed Grackle (?) walked up beside me, about three feet away on my right, and stood on the edge of the pier. Until I moved my camera and she noticed that I was alive and not a piece of the structure, it was as if I wasn't even there. Not only was I surprised but I got a photo of one very startled looking bird. Grackette had vanished by the time I lowered the camera to have another look.

More ludicrously interesting adventures to follow.

Peace, Doc

"When you see it, you think this is what makes life worth living." - Miyoko Chu

This Started As A Post About Frogs

Tue, 15 May 2007 20:18:44 GMT

It is my pleasure to announce that this vacation hasn't killed me yet and I find myself actually having fun. It is the first I've taken in far too long and I didn't realize how asocial I had become. Many of my "real life" social skills had simply gone South from disuse. I hadn't lost them entirely. I remembered that they existed. Bittle and Stinky hadn't required that I use them, however.

Cats don't require polite dinner conversation, that the forks and napkin be used properly, or even that dinner be eaten at a table while sitting in a chair. They don't require one to maintain a proper weight. I'm certain that I'll return from this God-sent interruption of my usual routine at least 10 pounds heavier, hair shorn to an appropriate length, (yes, I did get a "before" picture,) or that I shave every day. I was surprised to find that the haircut was free as the ponytail was again being donated to Locks of Love. The Super Cuts hair stylist received what I had expected to pay for both haircut and gratuity as a tip, a good organization will receive some slightly used hair, and everyone concerned is pleased. My pony tail was far more attached to me, in a physical sense, than I was to it, in an emotional sense.

My clients had been far too polite to tell me how cadaverous I looked. Fellow mental health professionals have had much less difficulty in revealing the truth to me. They have also found appropriately shrinky terms to tell me to shut up when I start blathering, something that The Boys had little problem enduring as long as the Fancy Feast kept coming. I had been to Pearl Vision for an eye exam and new specs before embarking on my great adventure (so I could see it.) The lenses were mis-cut on the first try, due to a mechanical failure, so I was not able to wear the new glasses on the drive or upon arrival. The new specs were shipped to the counseling center I am calling home base and were delivered the first Tuesday day following my arrival. Now I am being blamed for walking into things deliberately rather than because I can't see them.

I have been shown some of the sights in this very pleasant college town and had many conversations, both professional and much less formal, with the people I have met. I've taken pictures of landmarks, preserved regional architecture, people, interesting signs, and am looking forward to catching some of the nature photos I want. I have toured two colleges and am planning an interview and tour of a very specialized addiction center later in the week.

Next time I get a chance to write, I may tell you about the alligator that almost ate me, or not.

Peace, Doc

"Rule A: Don't. Rule A1: Rule A doesn't exist. Rule A2: Do not discuss the existence or non-existence of Rules A, A1, or A2." - R. D. Laing

Trippin'

Mon, 14 May 2007 16:09:33 GMT

I remain impressed with my Chevy Cavalier. Once I passed the dreaded Village of Elburn, I don't believe I traveled much under 70 or over 90 mph for most of the trip (except for tolls, gas, and slowing for a deceased armadillo on the road.) Despite driving at that rate and the use of air conditioning some of the time, the overall gasoline use was very close to 37 mpg.

Different states had different road "feels." Illinois' expressways produced in me the usual level of suspiciousness and paranoia. I had forgotten to put my good driver certificate in my glove compartment and I'm quite certain that no traffic officer would believe that to be true without printed proof. The electronic version will probably take another two or three months to travel from the traffic course's server to the police database. While mulling over these thoughts, my body hung a left while my brain continued straight, and I found that I had taken an exit at a "Y" in the road and was headed for "Shirley." This was either a small town or a very popular woman with a highway sign of her own. I never did find out for sure, but a simple right turn led me back to an expressway entrance without spending 18.3 minutes studying a map.

Missouri received the fewest complaints, but the one they earned was one that bothered the bejesus out of me through the whole state. They have rumble strips on the sides of their expressways, as do most states. However, they paint their yellow, "do not cross" stripe directly on top of the rumble strip rather than a foot or so in from it. I am somewhat more inclined to take a yellow line as a suggestion rather than as an absolute. Therefore I rumbled myself and the Cav unmercifully throughout the state.

Oklahoma earned lower marks, overall, even though their speed limit was higher (75 mph.) The charge was $7.00 to go five mph faster than in Missouri, an occasional overturned armadillo was present, and there were several signs with the same cryptic message, regarding which I have not yet determined the full meaning; "Do Not Drive Into Smoke." It seemed reasonable, though, even if there was no smoke. My major disgruntlement was traveling through Oklahoma City two and a quarter times while attempting to get around it once.

Once past Oklahoma City, I was again on my way to my confidential destination. The only hint I will give is to reassure you that it in no way involves another Spacer or blogger. You may all breathe a sigh of relief now. I am not about to arrive at your door unannounced.

Peace, Doc

Look for the ridiculous in everything and you will find it. - Jules Renard "And, it is fun." - Doc

Vacate(dun)geon

Thu, 10 May 2007 19:17:44 GMT

Well. How about this? Doc is on vacation. You are right, I didn't expect it either. After all my poor-mouthing abut taxes, grumbling about floods, traffic ticket complaints, and my other dissatisfactions with the world in general, driving off into the darkness before sunrise was about the last thing I expected to do.

Don't misunderstand, here. I certainly have wanted to go on a vacation for quite some time, but doing so has repeatedly taken a back seat to things more necessary to my immediate existence. Like cat food or Pepsi. I believe I reached a point where an invitation I had received became an offer I could not refuse. I gathered my $3.27 in cash and discussed with my credit card company why my card was being refused, as it should have had a high available amount on it. I had paid it off in full, electronically, a day or two earlier. Apparently, their machines were not communicating with my machines very well, so I called an actual, live person. (Just keep pressing zero until you get a warm body or the machine hangs up on you.) It was a somewhat convoluted conversation which, briefly summarized, concluded that, even though I had paid the card off entirely and had a current zero balance, it had been inactivated because I had not yet paid a late fee, which would not be charged against it for about three weeks.

"Is there any way I can get this fixed over the phone? I'm leaving in the morning."

"Certainly, Sir. Give us money."

"How and how much?"

"You can authorize a $28.00 direct debit from your checking account over the phone to us."

"Fine! Do that."

After rehashing all the information about bank routing and account numbers, which they already had in order to accept electronic payments in the first place, I was asked;

"Do you wish to have us withdraw $28.00 from your account, Sir?"

At that point, the decision was whether to emphasize the desire for them to do so by cursing in three or four languages, which would result in a hang-up on their part, or simply try to remain submissive, supplicative, and get them later. After due deliberation of at least 1/2 second duration, I decided I wanted the card activated much more than I wanted to vent the frustration and anger that had been building.

"Yes. Please."

"Very well, Sir. You should be able to use your card tomorrow."

I was indeed able to. I was quite pleased about that because it has a hefty gasoline rebate as a benefit, it was activated by the first fill on the journey, and I would be able to pay the innkeeper.

I will write more as I am able, but currently have limited access to the internet.

Peace, Doc

"To whom it may concern: It is springtime. It is late afternoon.” - Kurt Vonnegut