I am beaded

Today is my Birthday ..for some reason I feel melancholy . Its one thing squandering money ..you can always make more money , but squandering time ? that seems much different. Even in my most optimistic moments I realize there are far more years behind me , than I can imagine in front of me .

Lori woke me up today , with a big happy birthday and a kiss , a wonderful start to the day ! Its Friday and we both teach at a local Christian school . Lori , teaches theater and drama to grade school and middle school children , and speech to the High School kids. I teach Photography to High School and middle school . Lori and I also team teach the High School theater class. While at school my daughter called and wished me happy Birthday , Lori read to me the scores of Happy Birthday salutations on face book .

Twice today Lori had her class poke their heads in my classroom and wish me happy birthday. Lori is great with that sort of stuff , later today she has organized a get together with many of our friends at the local Steak and Shake . She also insisted I slip away for a little bit and visit one of our local parks that is Hosting an Native American Pow Wow .

Im just back from that event , I had hoped to catch some of the dancing , but that will be latter..I wandered around the grounds , listened to some " new " Native American music ..didn't like it much. Met an interesting man in one of the craft booths . Seems he had been to the Sisters Quilt show , and had some interesting stories about some of the people I found interesting in Sisters. Small world .

I left the pow wow and took a short trip into the woods neighboring the Pow Wow Grounds ...while chasing shadows and light in the forest I could hear the sound of Native American flute music in the distance ..I Liked that .

IN the parking lot I ran across one of the park rangers ..he thought I was trying to photograph some deer , looked a little puzzled when I told Him I was stalking light instead . He offered a suggestion , apparently not far from us there was an Oak tree that was struck by lightning a few months ago . He thought I might enjoy shooting that ...Gave me directions , but I could not find it . Found the light dancing on leaves instead .

That's the way it goes ....you seek one thing you find another . You think you are alone , and you find you have walked the same roads stared at the same people with another . YOU wake up to God's greatest gift for ,you singin happy birthday ..you teach others what you know , and you spend a few wonderful minutes with friends and Family reminding you the years aren't wasted , you have value in Him , and He is pleased to share it with others ...

I guess we are like a beaded basket , blowing in the wind ..waiting to be taken home . We have the appearance of being solid , but a carefully look shows us to be many parts , carefully put together , a work
of art in the Master Craftsman hands .

Guess when I think of all this I realize I am not so melancholy after all...the reality is I am a blessed man !

Travels with Chevy Van

By the Spring of 1995 I was pretty miserable. The separation from Karen and Kaisa ,a steady decline in the business ..loneliness I was worn down . My business crystal ball was not fully functioning and I assumed that eventualy because of my astute business brilliance the store would recover from the change in location.

Oh yes that year I had moved the location that had been so good for us . Partially because of a tenant dispute and also as a money saving idea.

The new location was a stand alone place a former church that had an upstairs loft that I Could maintain as a Living quarters . Still no shower or tub , but I was on shift at a Local Fire Department and had access to showers there.

Anyway some time during the Spring I got the idea to travel ,and travel a lot . Initially the plan was to be on the road for over six months and follow in the footsteps of John Steinbeck , with out the dog , and using a van instead .

I set a date of the day after Labour day as my departure date. During the Summer I Purchased a Chevy Van , removed the back seats , and turned it into a makeshift camper.

I had been spending a lot of time on AOL ...and had made several friends , most of them women and had set up several appointments with them . The deal was in return for Housing I would cook dinner. I had no idea what this really meant to some of the people I would be staying with , but I would learn later in the school of hard knocks .

Usually after a long day of sales and stocking shelves I would pour over the rand McNally Road trip software I had and work out my route . There were some places I Knew I want to visit for sure ...Los Angeles , San Diego , Albuquerque , Chicago , Dallas , Baton rouge , Montgomery Alabama , and Albany Georgia . were all pretty much definite on the list

I had my plans but God had His .

The Summer was no where near my expectations , in fact it was dismal , but I still managed to get a hefty down payment on a new Van ..planning to make up the difference with the Christmas Business and if Necessary the Next Summer. That Summer I had also decided to get a small apartment in a nearby town called Bend Oregon , and for the first time in my life I actually was living in a genuine apartment on my own . I bought new furniture , now art work , new dishes ..everything according to my taste ...it was kinda exciting ..but as time would show me it would have been better to spend all that money on Car Payments.

Anyway ..Summer came and went , I did make one good decision I decided to scale back the length of time I would be gone so I set out in Early September.

I had set up the van with a makeshift bed , I had a cooler , lantern , and a sleeping bag, cook stove , some pots and pans . MY plan was to camp out at night with the exception of the nights that I was given Hospitality ..I would drive till I got sleepy , and then head off again . I had thought I would have time to explore and enjoy the counry as I passed by . But I had not planned on the demons inside of me to so totally dominate my thoughts my sleep ...if I left anxious and excited I returned close to suicide , worn out even more lonely and dissatisfied with my life than I have ever been. The trip that was supposed to be my Journey of a lifetime , became an odyssey of despair and worry.

I had no idea of all this though as I waved goodbye to Sisters on that Tuesday morning and Headed South ...this should have been my first clue ...My original plan was to head East , but inexplicably ..I found my self heading south on 97 ... through the Central Oregon desert , and the burned out hulks of lodge pole pine devastated by disease and fire .

IT had been a bad fire season , the smell of burned forest in the air ...the face of Central Oregon was scarred and changed .... That spring grass would return , new growth and rebirth ....Out of the window I raced South , marking the stting sun in the passenger window .

Memories , long roads and dark nights

Its not unusual for Lori and I to spend hours trying to fit in al the things we have done in our lives together in the time we know we have been together. Seven trips to Richmond Indiana , two trips to the smokes , one vacation to San Francisco , Four or is it five trips to Oregon ? ...When was that time I stepped in dog mess on the Sunset Highway ? What year was it Kiasa came to visit here in Nashville ? What visit did Lee and Corrine get married in , which time did we visit the Grand ole Opry ...the list is seemingly endless ...so many events and seemingly so little time to compress them into .

And then there are those years before we met ...all the way back to the first year I was in kindergarten ...Or was it the second ? Failing Kindergarten is not something to put on you resume , but I think I can put it on mine . But I am getting ahead of myself here .

Anyway , last night Lori and I went out for Sushi , a rare treat lately as we try to save money for an upcoming Oregon Beach trip. ON the way to the restaurant I was trying to put the pieces together of these trips that I have been witting about . the problem is they don't seem to fit .

Between the day when Karen asked me to move out , till the day I met Lori ..I had managed to get in four trips to Southern California and Two trips to Oklahoma , As best as I can remember this the dates fall between Early fall of 1994 and early spring of 1996.
There is something about the monotony of driving espicially in the evening that helps me try to sort all these dates into some meaningful folders in my mind .
I sort them out , then neglect to write them down. The trip south out of Los Angeles may have been several months later than I first thought .
I spent about a week in San Diego , I do remember celebrating my Birthday at Dicks Last Resort in the Gas Light area. I enjoyed my visit with Cathi , she provided me with great guide service in San Diego, and some good words of advice about Gods Wisdom, words which made sense but still left me unconvinced that I should accept Christ. The visit with my Cousins in Selma had created an urge to head East . East meant connecting with 1-40 , a thin ribbon of road that leads East from Barstow California . Slips Northeast toward Flagstaff , then heads almost due East past Albuquerque , Amarillo , Oklahoma City, and then as it almost leaves the Sooner State you find yourself in Muldrow Oklahoma. As I crept into the Hills Just east of LA once again I started to think more about my childhood , early roots and screen windows.
I know this much , I was born in Denver Colorado , at the time my parents lived in a mining town called Climax Colorado , it is true I was conceived in Climax. The mine was an open pit mine and the ore being extracted was Molylibdium , a metal used mostly for Jet aircraft because of its strength and lightness ..I am reasonably certain that my Father worked on the sides of the pit , placing explosive charges into the earth. Probably suspended by thin cables and dangling several hundred feet in the air.
I vaguely remember my parents telling me of that Winter in Colorado with snow literally piled over the house we live in. The snow and the cold was probably why Mom and Dad considered moving to Portland , which they did within 19 months because that is when my brother was born in Portland Oregon ...I am not sure if he was conceived in Climax or not , and that is one question I probably would not want to ask Aunt Alice.
When we moved to Portland we lived in Sellwood , a small suburb south of Downtown Portland, and about three blocks from my fathers Parents. Elizabeth and Herman Sitlger. Herman was an immigrant from Germany and work for the Blitz Brewery in Portland , Elizabeth an immigrant from England. My best recollections of Elizabeth was of her crocheting and making coffee.
My mothers home was far away in Muldrow Oklahoma , her Father was Native American , and her Mother was an Irish Immigrant. In those days there was little talk of " Illegal immigrants " and more talk about the sins of the Native Americans . so when my Mothers Father " registered " with the US Government he fibbed and said He was 1/2 native. So now legally I am 1/8th .
My first recollection /Memory of life was living in Sellwood , this Memory is more like a composite of many memories , and is more likened to the debris at the bottom of a large cliff where deposits are all mixed together giving no indication of Chronology.
I remember a babysitter who lived across the street , neighbors who become famous when they got the first TV in the block and we would go over to vist and take a look at the new device. I remember my brother and I shared a room and I had the top bunk until it was determined that my bed wetting was making his life difficult , so I ended up with the bottom bunk.
At first I was troubled by this but two great benefits soon extended themselves to me. The first was I found that by tucking a sheet or blanket into the top bunk I could make myself a private cave ..a cave that was my own private and personal fortress. and that my being on the bottom bunk gave me ready access to the bedroom window that afforded me an opportunity to relive myself with out hiking downstairs to the bathroom.
The screen in front of the window was no obstacle to me but I do remember a slight changing of color that soon gave me away , that and the fact that one night I urinated on my father who was taking out the garbage. MY father was understanding and only used his hand on my bare butt and not the belt , something that at the time I was unable to appreciate the grace involved.
We lived in that house until I was six years old ...I went to Kindergarten early , and I must have had some problems because the next year when we moved ..I repeated Kindergarten ...I am not sure if you can say that life is up hill or down hill after you fail kindergarten , but somehow I survived ...my only memory of my first school experience is accidental hitting a girl with a jumping rope and then being so frightened , and scared of the sure and swift punishment I hid behind a tree until the class went back into the school , then I waited until school was out and pretended I had been in class when my mother walked down to pick me up. I am sure that in time the realization that my class had spent the rest of the day not missing me had some profound effect on my life , but I am not sure at this time what it was.
There was a park not far from where we lived ( Sellwood Park ) and my mother would take my brother and I there , and she would lay out a blanket and watch us as we played on the swings , and teeter toter . I have a picture I took of this place a few years ago and I swear that the teeter totter boards look like the originals we played on.
It was there that I first realized how much I could torment my brother , I would spin him so fast on the playground merry go ground that he was no longer merry , I would raise him far up on the teeter totter then let him fall to the ground ..all this seemed to accomplish two things , one he lived in fear of me , and two I learned to live in fear of my fathers belt when he heard about behavior when he came home.
It was at a very early age that I learned there were consequences to my actions , but learning that and stopping them seemed like light years apart ...I knew from a very early age what I should do , and what I should not do , but I was compelled and driven to do the opposite.
As my sixth year was winding down , I became aware that plans were being made to move away from this paradise ...boxes were packed , furniture stacked , and we moved to a Suburb of Portland on the west side called Multnomah..the new house was smaller , there was no upstairs ( this is fallout from peeing on your father ). but it had a garage , and a very large lot and an extra lot as well ...there was room to roam and explore and still be close to home. There were adventures to be had , friends to make and books to open , and it all lay ahead of me ...

ON the Road again ..the other side of Life

Four hours later I arrived in Selma ...that drive gave me a lot of time to meander down the pathways of my childhood and nibble away at the edges of my memory of life after High School life after High School . MY Anut Loy was fun to talk to , we shared some Ice tea and some conversation about when the Family had come to visit back in the 50's ...I spent some time with one of my cousins , and declined hospitality to spend the night , instead late at night I headed back out , moving my car closer to Los Angeles.
I would be there very late, but I would miss the traffic. The conversation with my cousin had really started me thinking. I went back to the thought about our lives being a tapestry, and I was realizing there is not much difference between a net and a tapestry, and the difference between them. I wondered how many people were caught in nets of their own. When we enter life, we are a part of someone’s work - the life we weave is a part of a larger work and often just our past traps us before we even have a chance to start our own work. Nancy had grown up in Selma; a child of Dust Bowl evacuees, her entire world had been formed around a hub of grape farming. She had inherited her mother’s smile, her father’s laugh and her family’s religion.

I must admit that this has been a huge stumbling block in my Christian life. It has always seemed to me that Christianity does have a cultural component to it, that many people who are Christians in the United States would be Muslim if they were born in Iraq. It has always seemed to me that there are loving and gentle people of good heart who are associated with most of the world faiths, and there are people who love to condemn others in most faiths as well.

Well, the drive from Selma to Los Angeles takes abut three hours, and I was up and over the Grapevine by 2 a.m. I had an urge to Cruise Sunset Blvd. I grew up with television, and Sunset Strip was one of those great icons of my youth. I have seen so many car chases down Sunset Blvd., I knew I would be no stranger there.

Soon I saw an exit that proclaimed Sunset Blvd /Hollywood, and I took it - and for a little bit, I did feel I was in the wrong place. This road of my teenage dreams wound unimpressively through a residential neighborhood, then squeezed past UCLA. I craned my neck, looking for the famous coeds, but none appeared. I drove past the Hotel California, past the famous neighborhoods of star worship - but I saw very few people or cars. Then I surged out of Beverly Hills and into the Sunset Blvd. of my remembrance. It’s not difficult to find temptation on the Strip, and everywhere I looked there were girls: some quietly and some sheepishly offering themselves for sale to the men and boys who flitted like fruit flies on the Strip and the intersecting roads. I saw lots of police, but they seemed hopelessly outnumbered. The words of the Paul Simon song, The Boxer, found their way into my mind: “There were times when I was so lonely that I took some comfort there,” and I wondered what drove the men to circle and the women to offer themselves up to strangers with such ease. I thought, “Somewhere there is a wife sleeping, comfortably unaware; and someplace else, a girlfriend fretting. Somewhere, a family room with a picture of a pert young girl with a flawless complexion looking out over the mantle. How many faces did I see that where in some living room in a distant land, framed with love and remembered in adoration? I wonder how long it takes for a policeman on this beat to lose faith with his or her fellowman, and distill all of us into a caricature of these evening immigrants. They are explorers and inhabitants of a world that borders Suburbia. Sedans and station wagons replace covered wagons and sailing ships - but there is only bitter harvest here. No minerals, no lumber - only broken dreams and passionless passion. I’m sure both seller and customer each will bear the marks of the blows that cut them down. I admit that I was fascinated by this swarm of people – the furtive looks, the outlandish appearance, the men in cars darting from lane to lane. Police with stoic understanding, stopping, questioning. Lights glimmering neon; proclaiming billboards elbowing each other; while in another world, not too far away, families slept and college students worked into the late hours forming paragraphs about social justice and world change. I suspect every major city has their Sunset Strip. It’s always a place on the “other side of the tracks,” just outside our understanding - but close enough to point at. I think each of us has our own Strip as well; it’s a place were we can occasionally blur the line between right and wrong. It’s also a place we can easily recognize in others. And just as it seems that those of us in Portland and Sacramento like to point toward Sunset Blvd. and Times Square, in our own home towns there are streets that slither through the gardens we have built.

I wanted to see Grumen’s Chinese Theater before I left, and I finally found it a few blocks away on Hollywood Blvd. The sun was coming up; the tops of the buildings were soaking in the light. There was a relay going on, and the people of the night were handing the baton over to the people of the morning. The bus stops were filling up with tired-looking people, most of them Hispanic or black, and most seemed to be headed into the richer neighborhoods of Beverly Hills and Belair. I suspect these were the domestics, the ones who mowed the neatly landscaped yards, who tended the dogs and washed the cars and a thousand other menial jobs. Some of these people stared at me with fierce pride, but most simply seemed to be asleep on their feet , thinking of the last moment of love’s embrace or of bills to be paid .

I pulled into a Denny’s for a cup of coffee and a quick breakfast. I know I must have had a book with me; if I eat alone, I have to have something to read with me. I’m sure there is something Freudian about that, but I think I will save the money on the exam and use it to buy more books. I was probably in Denny’s for about an hour, and when I came out I saw a new crowd taking the baton. These were the secretaries and the young executives, some at the bus stops and some in their own cars, filling up the Strip once again. As I looked at these people, I saw some staring back defiantly and others asleep, thinking of last moments of love’s embrace or bills to be paid.


My next stop was Chula Vista, just South of San Diego. There was a dear online friend I planned to visit there; her screen name was Quietedone, and her real name was Cathi.

Mom at Home

I do not know very much at all about my Mother and fathers Courtship . I do know that as were growing up , there were very few signs of Public affection between them , A hug and a kiss when dad came home from work , an occasional hug was as much as would see . I Knew some how instinctively that they loved each other , and loved each other deeply . Dad had no interests in other women , and Mother had only one man in her life ..when my father passed in 1974 , my mother never remarried , she missed him deeply for the next 26 years ..she never indicated to me she wanted to remarry , John , or Johnny as she called him was her one true love .

Dad was the visible one in our family , out front , the joker , the kidder , the one most inclined to be the life of the party . Mom was more than content to be by his side , a smirk followed by a smile an occasional right Jab when needed.

Once married Mom never worked outside the home , inside the home she was tireless. laundry , cleaning , cooking , gardening , shopping , help with homework and tutoring . Laundry was the real chore , we had an Agitator style washer in those early years , Mom hung the clothes out to dry either outside on the sunny days or in the basement during the rain.

Outside we had a impressive vegetable garden .Mom loved cucumbers and tomatoes , Compost from shredded trees my father cut down for Portland general electric , and fresh manure from Alpennrose dairy, provided necessary nutrition to the soil . We also had onions, radish , and green peppers . Salads were a big hit in our home. Most of our meals had meat involved , we had very little fish with the exception of smelt and the occasional Salmon, Meat was usually venison or Elk , my dad was a very good hunter in season and out . My mother would slice and fry potatoes to go with the meal , occasionally they would be boiled and mashed. Desert was either some baked goods or Jello, we ate a lot of Jello in those days . Plain , with fruit and with carrots . After dinner it was time for homework .

MY mother barely made it out of grade school , yet she had a great deal of respect for education . Some of my earliest memories are of her holding " flash " cards in front of us encouraging us with Math and sentence structure. She enjoyed Soap operas on TV her favourite was as the World turns ...she loved that show , but would gladly give it up for me when I stayed home sick from school so I could watch our miss brooks , or the Gail Storm show , often we would sit ont he couch and watch Perry mason together . and at night after Dad had gone to bed we would sit under a blanket on the couch eating stove top popcorn and watching Armchair Theater.


'Food shopping was family affair all four of us would pile int he care and we would go to the Fred Meyer store in Burlingame . a suburb of Portland . There Bob and i would be left in front of the Comic Book stand , where we would ravenousnessly read the latest DC and Marvel comics ,then Dad and mom would appear with these plastic numbers in their hands , we would go out to the car fix them unto the windshield then drive the car to the Store where , young men would place our Groceries in the car .

Clothes shopping was Mom , Bob and me . Mom did not drive a car , she never leaned that art and show very little interest in doing so . There were no clothing stores in the suburbs , we had to go downtown , which meant taking a bus . Public Transportation was very good in Portland those days . so Good I took it for granted . We would head off ot down town where we would end up at the trail ways bus station just a few blocks from our prime destination Meirer and Frank Department store . Staring on the fist floor then up to the fourth floor in an Elevator with a uniformed Elevator man handling the buttons . then a decent into the lower regions of the Department store and the " bargain " basement where we spent most of our time and money . Sometimes we would get separated , but we always knew to meet on the first floor by the Clock. the rallying point for scores of separated children from their parents which also happened to be adjacent to the candy Department

The First Floor of the Department store had a hardwood floor , the wood seemed to soak up the smells from the Candy department in the corner ,Popcorn ,Carmel Corn , fresh roast nuts , sweets and chocolates all available by the pound ...As tempting as these were , we would usually leave the store ..and cross to the Kress store across the street , where the candy and confections were cheaper.
Tired and foot sore we would all walk back up the bus station and take one of three buses headed back into our neighborhood hoping for the Capital Highway bus which would deposit us a mere two blocks from our home ...the Garden Home Metzger bus would leave us in downtown Multnomah a another Portland Suburb about 5 blocks from our home.
Kindergarten When we arrived home we had either fresh baked cookies or cupcakes waiting for us . For a few hours we would play in the yard or in our room during the occasional wet Northwest weather. In a very short period of time after we arrived home the scent of fresh backed goods would be overcome by the stronger smells of meat frying in the cast Iron pots and Potatoes frying next to them . Time for Dad to come home

Out of the Dust ..Moving West

I have a photo of my Mother on the wall in our den. She looks young ..probably in her twenties . Dark curly hair , eyes looking ahead , not at the camerman , but distant , but with purpose. Her mouth is slightly open as if she is saying " ok whats next ? " .

Life came at her hard .her own mother died early , Mom was the oldest girl , and by all acounts she took over the mother duties when her mother passed. Her father remarried , but what might have been a happy ending , turned tragic , when her stepmother gave birth to a severely handicapped child. The step mother abandoned all pretext of carring for her four step children , to the point of being abusive. The Step Children were parceled out to different relatives , all living marginally in poverty ridden Indian territory.


The Depression , racial prejudice , climate , all contributed to the living conditions . 1930 in the plains were dark days . Thousands of people had left Oklahoma , driven out by the economy and the frequest dust storms that lterally blotted out the sky. Dust so thick that newspapers frequently told of mass deaths of birds and rabbits who were unable to find shelter from the storm. The dust was a silent killer adding to respiratory deaths and tuburculous. No crops meant no food ...no food meant no hope.

It is no mystery why so many left the state looking for better pastures. Initially States like Oregon and California welcomed the refugees , but as the Westward Migration became a flood the doors were shut . State police in California waited on the Border , turning away any one who had no money.

What is a mystry is why so many stayed behind . Only a very small portion of my Mothers family Left Oklahoma , somehow against this dreary landscape they managed to survive , forming close bonds of family and holding onto the promise of better days ahead through a harden faith in God , forged in small town churches ..with tattered pictures of Jesus on the wall , and hymns ground out on dusty pianos for the affluent churchs and barely strung guitars for the poorer ones .

I do not know very much at all about this time in my mothers life ... I do know that in the 1940's she went west on a Greyhound bus ..a Journey that must have taken courage and resolve , ad difficult s times were as hard as her life was it was the life she knew and it would be replaced by a new state , and new vocation and ultimatly a new relationship.

Changing Directions

It was early morning when I was in Weed at the gas station, the cold air kept me awake and I turned left just out of Weed onto Interstate 5 ...heading south..its a downhill ride from Weed and soon the temperature was warming , there was no evidence of the sun rising , a few hours and I was getting tired ... I stopped and found a place in Redding California to sleep ..I like sleeping in a car , it feels safe and cave like ...when you wake up you simply tilt your seat up and go ... As I went to sleep then for the next several hours I started thinking , really thinking about the turns and twists of my life ...when I remove myself from all the distractions of life I start thinking about me. Selfish perhaps, but there are some times when you look back, you know how it is ...one day you are six years old , you are chasing dandelions during the day and throwing tantrums when you are told to go to bed ...you feel the first startling twinges of independence , and every thing is new ...so much new you simply can't take it all in , so your mind stores up memories which come flooding back to you when you least expect it. I started to think about my life in terms of memorable periods ...The early years from six to twelve , High School years , Sandy and the serious dating years , First marriage and college , Divorce , college , Student Body President , All Night Cast parties ,Diana , Karen , And my Daughter Kaisa , Store in Sisters , being a volunteer fireman , so many memories . It was like one of those beach cabin Jigsaw puzzles and like them there were some pieces missing ...somewhere around Redding California I made one of those decisions that would seemingly alter the course of my life ..without realizing It I went from driving for the sake of my pleasure to , driving for the sake examining what my life meant , what was my purpose and how did it all seem to come down to this , a lony middle aged man in a beat up car driving relentlessly down 1-5 with no apparent destination.
I did something childlike ..I called my Mother ..I had some questions and I think I was ready to hear the answers .
I wanted to know more about her and more about how she and my father came to know each other , we talked for a while on the phone , oblivious to the roaming charges I Must have racked up a hundred dollar bill on that early Morning conversation. My Mother reminded me that I was not far from some of Her family that had settled in Selma California . They owned land and had harvested Grapes for Sunmaid raisins , fleeing Oklahoma in the dust bowl years they were a part of that great group of Immigrants who settled in Californian in the 1930's ...they were Oakies , and I decided it was time to revisit some of my Kin Folk.

Road Trip

ROAD TRIP
Most business have cycles , in Sisters Oregon , the months of January and February are very slow , we would get a little surge on the weekends , and a nice bump on Presidents day weekend ..but other than that it was very very slow. Having survived Christmas , and having done better than I suspected. I looked at the money situation , I was able to pay another months Rent on the store the mortgage on the home that my wife and child lived in , I seemed alittle ahead , and the bills I should be paying seemed much smaller than those big bills and I could make them up during Spring break..so I did the only responsible thing for a financially irresponsible person, ROAD TRIP....
The Datsun which before seemed like it could barely make it to the Pioneer Market , now was perfectly suited to making a 3000 mile journey to California , How it made this change I don't know , it might of been the sun striking it on the dusty hood just right , or the little bit of rubber I managed to lay down when I peeled out in front of a speeding Log Truck , because I couldn't wait 5 seconds longer to get in on the wseeklong sale of frozen dinners at the Market ...no matter what, the car now looked fit to head South.
Sisters Oregon is near Highway 97 which is a North South route which pierces the High desert plateau of Oregon and somewhere near Shasta Mountain connects with the big asphalt river ..Interstate 5 , the drive takes you along side of the Cascade Mountains sitting on your right hand side ..the tall peaks were snow covered and at some place I would cross them , but far enough south that snow should not be a factor.
A journey of that length demands some careful planning ...I got the idea to go south around six pm on January 2nd, made a few calls to my employees, and by seven PM I was packing the car ... I decided against maps because well I knew which direction South was , and I just threw in the few clothes I had with me at the time , considered putting a Frozen dinner on the engine to thaw as I drove , but decided against it ..probably the wisest choice I made in those few hours of planning.
My first stop was in Bend Oregon where I filled up the tank , and provisioned myself with ample Coca Cola , Coffee, Beef Jerky and a few Snickers bars ...my philosophy on road trips is travel light and don't stop expect for bathroom and gas breaks. As I left Bend it was very late , the roads were snow covered , My snow tires would be sufficnent and would soon be clacking away on the Southern California Streets.
I had no real reason to head south , I wanted to meet an Online friend in San Diego , I needed to clear my head , take some time for me , I was concerned that Beverly and I were getting too personal and too close , I just wanted to go somewhere else ...I wanted an adventure , or escape ...
As I headed south I realized it might be a good time to decide where to stay along the way ... In the morning I would call my Mother and get phone numbers of my cousins that lived near Fresno California and at least stay there the next night , for this evening all I planned was to just keep driving . Five hours later I was in Weed California ..looking for a gas station , behind huge bearms of snow ..
in Oregon you do not pump your gas , there are attendants who actually do that for you ...California forces you to pump your own gas, and this required understanding the pumping mechanism which I discovered later was different with each pump. I didn't realize this at first , instead I waited in my car for the attendent to come out and pump my gas. I could see the attendent but he seemed to have no interest in comming out he was chewing on adonut adn c=kept looking out at me , but made no movement to the door. finally i forced open the car door , which has been frozen shut by road slurry .. I slipped across the icy parking lot , and politly asked if the pumps were oppend. The guy with the donut in his mouth mutterd "yeth" I looked quizzically at him trying to nicely say " well I need gas " when it suddenly dawned on him and me there was something wrong ...After a few moments of awkward silence the donut chwer swallond and said ..this is a self pump station ...and suddenly that light went on and I heard myself say " you mean self ? as in I pump it myself ?" Now I remembered so I gave the guy a sheepish look and tramped out to fill up my car I tried to pump but nothing happened , I was standing out in sub freezing weather with a thin shirt on and I needed to pee , I was squeezing as hard as I could for gas and other reasons , and nothing was coming out ! well nothing I wanted to come out ..I was doing this little dance trying to forget that really insistent feeling and alsotrying to pry my fingers off the frozen nozzle so I could go back in the gas station and find out what I had overlooked . Back in the Gas station the attendant has plugged his mouth with a maple bar I asked him for help and he said " how muth " " I don't know" I need a fill up ..." you have to pay futh " he saids ...now my mind was racing at the speed of discomfort and I realized that I needed to pay in advance , but how much should I pay .. if I paid too little I would just have to do this all over again , sooner, if I paid to much I would have just tipped the guy with maple frosting smeared over his chin, I reached in my pocket ..shoved a twenty dollar bill on the counter and walked out to the car ...then it hit me I had forgot to pee...there are times that life can overwhelm you ..I had already paid for the gas , that pump was sitting there like a ripe melon , anyone could use my paid for gas if I raced back into the Gas station , yet there was no denying the insistant cramps that where now making my entire body convulse ..I had no choice I had to find the bathroom and I had to trust that no serial gasoline thief would be watching this from a distant perch on a snow berm ...I went back in to the Gas Station , the attended was chugging chocolate milk from a carton ... " bathroom" I squeaked out ... " in back" he said with a mouth filled with uneated maple bar and chocolate milk...I squirmed out the door choose right , should have choose left when I arrived , the door was locked ...I just about crawled back the the Gas Station , I Looked the guy full in the eye and noticed he was having a Snickers bar he said " you need a key " ..He handed me a key which was attached to a Car license plate which was in turn teathered to a 40 foot chain wrapped around a beer cooler ...at least it seemed that way ..and again I struggled out the door turned left and entered the bathroom, I should have got a clue when I noticed that the Bathroom also doubled as the Ice storage locker ...it was cold very cold , so cold you would want to go out side to warm up ...It was four AM and I just left the door open ... sometimes you just have to go native .

The Letter

New friend on AOL Part 2
The letter was friendly and warm , Beverly said based on our IM conversation she had already figured out I was not as young as I said I was , she also indicated she might be a little older as well , she was gracious and understanding and her letter was filled with grace and forgivness ..all of which I soaked up like a cheap paper towel soaks up spilled coke ...For the next several weeks Beverly carried on an ongoing conversation , sharing our dreams , our desires and our failures , after we got the age thing sorted out we realized we were very close to the same age , I was going through a divorce and she was contemplating one ..she had two grown children both heading off to college and a husband who as she explained it was very demanding , overbearing , non communicative.
We both realized that in another place and in another time we might have had a go at each other and based on the openess of our Compter conversations we realized that in fact we might make a very good go of it , but several thousand miles apart , and more hurdles than you find on a High School Practice field we were mature enough to understand having a go would have to pass ... I was hurtling toward the holidays , and I had started to dread them ...Thanksgiving would be the first holiday alone for me in some time ...Since the day after Thanksgiving is a huge shopping day I couldn't leave the area , so I planned to dine in alone and try one of the Marie Calanders Turky Dinners , spend some time on AOL , and putter around the store getting ready for the next day...I called my mother , wished her Happy Thanksgiving and called my Daughter and wished her the same ...Karen and Kaisa were spending Thanksgiving in Portland with her parfents.
AOL was kinda quiet with most of the people even the lonely ones having a brief interlude with real people ...the Frozen dinner was ok , just seemed odd eating your thanksgiving feast off of an aluminium plate ...somehow the meaning and vibe of Thanksgiving was lost , it became just a quiet day with little human contact , the local grocery store was closed , the tavern was closed and as the snow piled up it was a possibility that the mountain passes would be closed as well , meaning a poor sales day and even more worries ...somehow I stumbled into sleep late into the night or early into the day , not sure which.
All the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas became a blurr , buisness was doing ok , not great but better than expected considering the weather and my all nighters on AOL ...about this time I got my first bill from AOL ...I am not sure of the exact amount ..but I remember it was over $600.00...and that was the month woth all my free minutes ...I was a little shocked but so addicted to the chat rooms that I knew I was just going to have to find a way to keep online...bottle collecting, selling blood or other fluids , a host of ideas some good most bad ...
What I feared most about Christmas was simply being alone ...I needed to keep the store opened and I couldn't drive to Portland to be with my Mother , my brother lives even further away, Kaisa would be gone to Portland , and no one had offerd to take me in on Christmas ...partially because I was letting everyone know just how miserable I was and while they understood I am sure they wanted no part of my cynical , crankyt whiney , self to darkend their Holiday ...so as I watched Christmas sneak up on me I planned , and I hoped I had planned well
I had planned the next two days very well. I had food and treats and a new book to read, and several videos - all designed to keep my mind off what my mind was really on. I was lonely and I was desperately sad and I was not even sure if I would make it through the next two days.

I fixed dinner - roast beef with baby reds - and decided to pick up my mail from Beverly. I knew it was there; she had sent both letters earlier, and had marked them Do not read till Christmas Eve, and day. I opened Christmas Eve’s; it was a wonderful letter, heartwarming and encouraging. It ended with this exercise: Beverly asked me to describe myself in ONE word and then write why I chose that word. Looking back, I think this simple exercise was a gift from God. It helped me focus and helped me to take a good look at myself; after discarding COMPLEX, LONELY, and many others, I settled on TAPESTRY. I realized my life was a tapestry, woven together with the threads of many people. This is an image has never left me. Our lives are a measure of not only what we contribute to our work of art, but what others add to it also. Some of our tapestries are vibrant with dazzling contributions from ourselves and others. Some of our tapestries are bland from lack of color.

While working on my homework from Beverly, just on a lark I started exploring AOL. That’s when I found the Religious and Ethics Forum. This area was a multi-faith chat and message board area. I started to look at the message boards, and was amazed at the diversity of thought and, unfortunately, intelligence. The boards seemed to be dominated by far right Christian types, and it was not long before I was entering the cyber fray.