Thought for the day

Thought for the day

Day Seven and Plan D completed

Yellowstone is a busy place.  Despite the incredible scenery, you have to search for some solitude.  You also have to search for a camp site. 

When I rode into the park there is a sign with camp ground vacancies.  There was not much open and they were on the north end of the park. 

So after the geyser show, I went on my quest to find a campsite.  I passed three that were full.  I headed north past the West entrance to Norris campground.  It was full.  I checked the walk in sites.  They were full.  I ate a granola bar and pondered my situation.  I was tired.  The nearest campground was an hour away and there was not guarantee that there would be any room there.  The north road was under construction and was now unpaved.

I think I was on at least plan D by this time.  As plan A,B and C had not worked out.  I decided to use my charm.  I rode around the campground until I found what I was looking for.  A truck, with a motorcycle and  a very large travel trailer.  It had Texas plates.  I used to live in Texas.  They owned motorcycles.  They were not using the tent area. 

I went way out of my comfort zone and knocked on the door.  George answered and I explained my situation.    After a brief inspection that I was not obviously an axe murderer  and a discussion with his wife in the trailer he agreed to let me stay.

I set up my tent.  A modest home but I will sleep well tonight.  I eat the second half of my Jackson Hole sandwich.

 

Yours truly

George comes out.  He is a member of the Christian Motorcyclist Association.  We talk. I have not talked to anyone for more than a few minutes in a week. We talk a lot. His focus is on proselytizing.   We talk about  families and divorces.  He is on wife number three.  She is unhealthy and never left the trailer while I was there.  We talk about Texas and motorcycles.  He travels for six months of the year.   In his experience men who ride motorcycles solo are running from something.  He has seen a lot.  He has a solution.  It is Jesus.  The highway of hope…

George is an interesting guy.  I am not convinced I need fixing but keep some of these thought to myself, not to debate my kind host. 

Plan D is a success.  The air is crisp and cold.  It will be a nice night.

Dating adventures, a legend in the making

At least I leave an impression.

Once upon a time I dated a woman.  She had good taste in music.  She had her own motorcycle. We got along pretty well.  I make pretty good company.

I analyzed her musical tastes and made her an awesome mixtape. She loved Robert Earl Keen and Bruce Springsteen. She was very pleased.  It was not hard for me to do.   I enjoy my music.

I was lonely and she was lonely. I think she was falling in love with me, but my mind reading skills are weak. I am patient and in no hurry. There were some red flags.  It takes some time to gain my trust.

I was not yet divorced.  I was still pretty, make that very, naive.

Theresa called one night with a sense of urgency.  She had to come over.  She told me she that she was thinking about sleeping with me.  All good at this point.  But.... she has herpes.
I reassured her and told her that I would need to think about that for awhile.  I really needed time to digest this information and sent her on her way.

After some due diligence, thank you google, I decided that was not something I wanted to deal with.  I let her down as gently as I could.

She was hurt.  That is understandable.  It is tough to be a 50 year old with baggage.  We all have some baggage. I tend to try to hide mine.

I got a nice card from her in the mail.

Then I received some vicious drunken texts.  F bombs away.  Personal attacks.  Theresa, that is fucking scary. I think that puts you in the category affectionately  known as bat shit crazy.

Fast forward three years.

I have been trying to meet with a woman who lives near by, let's call her Linda.  She has an interesting profile and seems sane.  She has befriended me on Facebook. Based on the superficial social media information, I thought we could get along fine.


We are texting back and forth.  Then silence.  Then a strange response.


Linda is best friends with Theresa.  Cincinnati is a damned small town sometimes.


Apparently Theresa still talks about me.  Apparently she still likes me. She regrets sending the drunken texts.  Three years later she has not found anyone nearly as interesting.
She is screwing up my dating adventures. I am a legend in the making

A great INTJ description

This is probably the best description of my way of thinking I have seen online.  It is spot on.  The only significant difference is that I find myself surfing the web more and reading books less.  Thank you David Boles

http://bolesblogs.com/2005/06/24/mark-of-the-intj-rational-mastermind/

Mark of the INTJ Rational-Mastermind

My temperament type is INTJ or Rational-Mastermind and I’ve known that over many tests over the arc of my life and here is a fun link to a fancy online report on my personality type that makes it really easy and clear to understand how your type affects you and others around you.

If you decide to get tested for your personality type for the first time, please have it done in person by a professional so your results can be deeply studied and then explained to you.

Now I will make a brief attempt to explain some, but not all, of the oddities of the INTJ personality type. I am not making any excuses. I am just telling you what many of us are like and where we are coming from.

We are kind of rare. We make up less than 1% of the population. These “Marks of the INTJ Rational-Mastermind” are from my experience. Not all INTJs are created from the same bolt but many of us share some suggestions of these marks.

Oh, and when I say “we” let’s say I mean “me” because if I don’t I will be attacked by the other INTJ Rational-Masterminds who see themselves as independent and above being included in this prattle:

We are Information Hounds
We must know. We must always be learning and researching something new. I have 27 magazine subscriptions and my Post Office Letter Carrier is not happy lugging all that paper my way every week. I have 1,200 books in my bedroom alone. I read 12 online newspapers every morning. My books are my friends. I mark them up. I dog-ear them. I write all over them.

Books are tools that are friends. I listen to the TV, radio, my CD player and surf the web all at the same time. It drives people nuts! I promise you I comprehend it all. I am listening and watching and memorizing it all. Please don’t complain about wasting electricity or needing more room for your clothes in the bedroom. There are newscasts to memorize and friends that need shelves!

We Are Not Cold and Distant
We do not see ourselves as being cruel, cold, distant, unbending, unforgiving, mean, icy or impossible but sometimes people use those words to describe us. We are factual… some might say “lawyerly.”

We like references that back up ideas. When you accuse us of inappropriate past behavior and we ask when it happened, and where we were and what the weather was like and who was with us, please don’t take those questions as being argumentative or difficult. We are just trying to place ourselves back into that space and time to re-examine what you did not appreciate so we can fix it later.

We are not necessarily trying to catch you in a lie, or in a disremembered moment, in order to win the argument. We don’t live in the past or really even ruminate much on past events — unless we are actively correcting something for future use — so any clues and hints you can provide to help place us back in time and space helps us a great deal and we are probably not trying to give you a hard time.

We Are Viciously Loyal
We do not betray and we do not tolerate betrayal in others. Our word means everything to us because promises influence our acts. We do not collect friends or affection. We pick a couple of people and stick with them forever. We are not picky or choosy.

We just know what we want and we don’t want to waste an instant deceiving someone else’s good intentions if we are not interested. You always know where you stand with us. If we like you, we say so. If we don’t, we won’t have to say it out loud for you to know.

We Do Not Make the Same Mistake Twice
If we screw up it is rare if we willingly do it again. We are fixers. We are forward thinkers. We like to re-imagine the future with new behaviors that will result in errors not happening a second time.

Emotional? Heck, yah!
Sure we get angry. We are not emotionless. We have passion and magnitude and we express it when our values are violated (see Loyalty above) and that passion often gets misunderstood for anger.

Sometimes we are not great about sensing how you and others feel so you need to tell us so there is no doubt and if you are taken aback by what you feel is anger, ask us: Are you angry? We will likely be surprised at the question because we are probably just excited, hurt or trying to passionately explain the position we value.

Disconnected
We are sometimes accused of being disconnected from the rest of society. We aren’t disconnected to the present. We place the present past behind us because we are already in the future. Funerals, for me anyway, are a waste of time because we are not our bodies.

That thinking, I have learned, is offensive to many people on a plethora of levels. I am extremely connected to what is important to me but that interest does not sit looking back. Life stands in front of you and that includes everything that has already come before.

“Moving forward…”
As future thinkers, we have, at times, the uncanny ability to know what will happen in the future before most of the people around us. That ability is sometimes interpreted by others as being “arrogant” and we work on trying to keep our mouths from always saying “I told you so” because that doesn’t go over well even though we are right to say it.

In meetings I am fond of saying “Moving forward…” and “What’s next?” because getting stuck repeating the details of what has already been discussed is historic and problem-solving is anticipatory. INTJs are prescient.

We have the gift of, not predicting the future, but of knowing what will happen before it happens based on cultivating, chalking out and extending the current situation. Sometimes that can be scary for us because we can see something bad happening before our eyes before it actually happens.

We are not, however, mind-readers, so you can never assume we know something about how you feel unless you directly tell us. We don’t like to guess how you’re feeling so instead of playing with us, just lay it all out on the table.

No Living in the Past
The past is not of great interest to us. What’s done is over and what we think about today can change tomorrow, so let’s get a Plan and then a Plan B plus a Plan C and… so we can always stay ahead of the curve.

We live in the ether beyond the cutting edge and sometimes that place is a little isolating. We are often alone but never lonesome. We live without regret but that doesn’t mean we are content. What’s done is done. I find myself thinking two years ahead of others in what will be and what must be and what why be.

We Don’t Chat
We are not chatters. We don’t do small talk. We don’t need to drone on about the weather or our families. We are not terribly concerned about being liked or not. We are to-the-point. I tell people I work with that when it comes to criticizing me or my work to “be blunt and cruel, it saves time” and some people get offended by that statement because they think I am asking them to be mean and to insult me. I am not.

I am asking them to get to the point. Don’t poke around the issue. Stab at it! It’s okay to be direct and decisive with us. It’s pretty hard to hurt our feelings when it comes to work. We don’t like busy work. We like to get things done the right way first and move on… so know what you want before you tell us what you need.

Sometimes We Disappear
Disappearing is, perhaps, one of the most annoying things some INTJs do that people dislike. I promise you we are not trying to insult you or to hurt your feelings by leaving. We leave, usually without comment, from groups or meetings or parties or get-togethers because we become interested in something else. It’s that simple.

We decide to investigate elsewhere. No malice is intended in disappearing. We don’t see it as disappearing. We see it more like, “moving on…” When I get asked later, You said good-bye before you left, right? and I stammer out an Uhh as an answer, I realize my host probably wondered what happened to me.

Saying good-bye is a ritual that seems silly because I will see everyone again soon; but manners and societal norms require following particular stations of behavior in a standard order and I need to be more alert and adhere to those expectations in public where I can easily be misunderstood. We do great in one-on-one situations. When there are more than three people in the room we tend to hang out in corners by ourselves. Mingling is not a strong INTJ trait because it usually involves idle chatter.

When I warn people beforehand I am not good in non-structured group activities with people I don’t know because I am “painfully shy” I usually get laughed at for awhile because they think I’m kidding. A more helpful response is, “hang out with me and I’ll introduce you to some people.”

Right and Wrong
We generally have strongly-held values about right and wrong and “right and wrong” for many of us are defined in a social sense and not necessarily a religious one. We know the world is grey but doing the right thing — the promises we make to each other kind of morality — is important to us because it helps shape the world into the worthy and the unworthy of our involvement.

Seeing Justice done is a vital element for us because it carves the right stake in society.

That wraps up a quick glimpse into markers for helping you identify and, perhaps, better tolerate, INTJ Rational-Masterminds
lurking in your midst.

Don’t despair the one-percenters!

We may be awkward but we aren’t that awful! Don’t run from us. We make loyal allies, we can help you figure stuff out and we are really good at creating plans that stretch five years into your future… if you can find us before we disappear.

 

Thought for the day

Day Seven Continued

So where was I?  Oh yeah, Jackson Hole Wyoming on my way to Yellowstone National Park.  A gorgeous ride with the majestic Tetons on my left, sunny blue skies,  and Old Faithful ahead of me.    Something I had been looking forward to for days, months and years. 

I was surprised that I did not see more wildlife through the valley and into the park.  The park is busy.  When I pay my fees to get in I notice that most of the campgrounds are already full.  There are some in the north part of the park.  Something will work out, I tell myself.

I head towards the geyser basin.  Nature’s own Disneyland.  We have exploding geysers, wildlife and waterfalls.  I have read that the entire park sit atop an active volcano.  Sometime she is going to explode and life as we know it will be change.  Mt. St. Helen’s was nothing compared to this one when it goes.  It will happen, but not on my watch.

They have added a couple of new buildings since my last visit.  More parking as well.  More buses and more people. 

I am sensing a theme here.  So many people find a nice thing and then because of the popularity, they screw it up.

The Old Faithful Inn is a majestic building.  Open to the ceiling with trusses build from logs. An incredible stone fireplace.   A National treasure. 

I know where I am heading.  To the  deck overlooking the geyser.  The countdown is on.  20 minutes or so before the next eruption.  What a great day.

The geyser burbles and makes some small blasts of four to five feet.  Steam seeps from the opening.  Then it quiets down.  It repeats its burbling and small blasts.  Then it quiets down again.  Then we get a sustained blast of four to five feet.  Instead of quieting, it grows and blasts to its full potential, 100 feet in the air.  Old Faithful continues this sustained blast for minutes then slowly subsides.  The water drains back into the geyser leaving steam and an odor of sulfur.  Until the next show.  Well worth the trip.

Do not fall in love with me,a poem

Love leaves scars.  In some respects I am unique. In others not so much. 

This is a great poem. Perhaps I am being pretentious, but I would like to think, and at some level I know, that I am not the only one with scars. 

Full speed ahead. 

So sad

Sometimes I hate it when I am right

My intuition was correct.  It is over.  I knew it was coming.  It was pretty good while it lasted.

My earlier post from July:
https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7646236209855165689#editor/target=post;postID=3999270097508569843;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=53;src=postname


I have made my final mix tape.  It is awesome as ever, I am real good at communicating in that form.


https://itunes.apple.com/us/playlist/dave-has-the-blues/idpl.3f872501bb394a27baa1a1d4a2edb46d
Help me.  Women are tough to understand.  Sometimes Barb seemed so damned happy and proud to be with me.  That was a recently as three weeks ago.  The smile,excitement and love was sincere.  Barb is genuine.  I never caught her in a lie, perhaps an omission or two.  That is fair and expected. 


Then, it seem responsibilities, obligations, and worries kick in.  I become a chore and unnecessary in the space of a week.    


I have my flaws.  I think she still carries that wonderful Catholic guilt.  Her youngest son is a challenge.  I have been there done that.  Her perfect sister has convinced her that gluten is evil.  I am not into religion. and that bothers her that I will not likely be travelling to heaven.  It is hard to teach this old dog new tricks. 

Here is the main problem:  http://markmanson.net/fuck-yes

Fuck yes.  I only felt it at times from her and it scared her.


The sex was not fuck yes for me. 


The intellectual stimulation for me was not a fuck yes.


Best to move on.


I need a plan. I need some company.

Back to the dating pool.....

Some more thoughts on the final adventure from a rational mind.

As beautifully articulated in the last post by Elizabeth (Betty) Waite, death is the final adventure. It is permanent.  For some it comes much too soon.
I am agnostic.  I find some comfort in the thoughts of Aaron Freeman below.  Energy exists and can be measured but not destroyed.  Where that energy goes and what form it may take after death is the great unknown.  We will all find out in the end.
"You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy is created in the universe and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, ever vibration, every BTU of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid the energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.
And at one point, you'd hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off you like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.
And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue in the heat of our own lives.
And you'll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they'll be comforted to know your energy is still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone. You're just less orderly. Amen."


This is a transcript of a speech given by writer and performer Aaron Freeman on NPR News "All Things Considered". You can listen to it here.

Gone too soon

A beautiful post from my friend and writer Elizabeth Waite. 


Too often we see people choosing a permanent solution for a temporary problem.  I have seen it in my life. I see this in some of the school claims that I manage.  We have all been touched by this. 


Pain passes if you are patient.

My son's friend, Stephen, killed himself a week ago Friday.  His funeral was yesterday.  I hadn't spoken to the parents since I'd heard the news. They were neighbors of mine for 18 years. 

I was never close to the parents.  My ex husband got them in the divorce 15 years ago, and although we were always friendly, we were not bonded neighbors.  Our political and spiritual differences were stark and divisive. When I approached them, their child lying with folded hands in a coffin two feet away, my heart broke in half for them.  I clutched the mother to me, tears streaming down my face, saying the only words I knew to say.  "I'm so sorry this happened.  I can't imagine your pain."

I hugged all of my son's friends, hugged Stephen's brothers, hugged a few of the parents who came to be supportive.  When it came time to listen to the memorialization of Stephen, the tears continued.  Vague references were made to how Stephen died, but mostly, the stories were about his helpfulness, his industriousness, his intelligence and problem solving abilities.  I know his parents were proud.  I was proud.

The congregation in the church was mostly divided, with the pews on the left side occupied by Stephen's friends and the pews on the right by people his parents' age.  I debated whether or not I should step to the podium. 

Public speaking has never frightened me.  But this was different.  This was not about Betty, this was about those kids on the left side of the church, the young ones who I knew struggled, some with the very issues Stephen struggled with.  I pulled out my spiral notebook, always kept in my purse in case of inspiration.  I decided that if I jotted down notes and could mentally put them into a form that might be useful, I would speak.

I remembered a poem I had written when I was in the depths of despair 12 years ago, my heart broken, my spirit crushed.  That poem might work.  I made a list of the things I remembered about Stephen, things that fit with the tragedy lying in state three pews away.  This is what I said, speaking almost entirely to the left side of the room:

 

"My life is an ocean

with waves of tears

and spaces of glassy calm.

My happiness radiates

evaporates

and fuels the cloudy storms.

The salty sorrow of my tears

rains down with deep delight

replenishing, renewing

the ocean of my life.

The pain is stark, searing my heart.

I stumble on my path;

Eviscerates, capitulates,

and then, in time, does pass.

Pain passes.

Stephen chose a permanent solution to a temporary problem.  Pain passes, if you can just be patient.  When you are young, everything feels so permanent.  You feel lonely and it feels like you will be lonely forever. 

You won't be. 

You fail a test and you feel like you will fail at everything forever, but you won't. 

 
You will find success. 

You drink too much and do something you regret and you feel like you will never learn, but you will. 

You will learn. 

You get your heart broken and feel like you will be alone forever, and the pain will never leave. 

But it will. 

Pain passes. 

If you can just be patient.

Stephen spent 18 of his twenty years a block away from our house.  The Quigleys had three boys of the same age as my three sons.  Their phone number was 1 on our speed dial because if I couldn't find my sons, chances are they were at the Quigleys, and vice versa.   Saturday mornings involved wading through half a dozen little boys draped all over my family room furniture, with one, two, and sometimes three Quigley boys.  My sons often stayed at their house, too, accompanying them to this very church on Sunday mornings.

Stephen was industrious and polite.  I think he shoveled the snow in my driveway more often than my own sons, because he would actually do it and not whine about it. 

When I moved from Wyoming 6 months ago, his brother was one of my helpers.  Stephen had broken his foot, and Facebook messaged his apologies.  He stopped by with a bunch of Kevin's friends to say goodbye to the Waite estate after the last of the boxes were loaded onto the truck.  I hadn't seen him in over a year.  He had grown so tall, towering over me.  His hair was blonde, his face had filled out to the face of a young man.  A beautiful young man.  I almost didn't recognize him.  I hugged him when it was time for them to go, told him I was proud of him.

Stephen has now tasted the fruit of the tree of knowledge.  He knows now what we can all only wonder about.  Stephen never shared his troubles with me.  I hope that the fruit of that tree has finally brought him peace."

Afterwards, I was throwing my plate away after sampling all of Stephen's favorite foods, lovingly prepared by the ladies of the church, Stephen's mom pulled me aside and hugged me.  Her speech had been a thank you to all of the other women of the church who had been a mom to Stephen. 

"Betty, thank you for sharing today.  You know, you were one of Stephen's mom's, too.  I didn't say it earlier, but I should have.  You were there, all these years."


I hugged her, fighting back the tears again, nodding.  "And you were another mom to mine.  It takes a village.  Thanks for being part of mine. And my children's."

And now, life goes on.  That's the hardest part to figure out how to do.  Life goes on.  And there but for the grace of God, go I.

Need to brush up on my skills

It is tricky, good thing that the internet is there to show the way

Thanksgiving thoughts

 "This Thanksgiving, be grateful the universe’s physical constants are so precise that a slight variation in any one would render your existence impossible."

Day Seven of the ride

“The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready.” – Henry David Thoreau

There were a few moments from day 6 where I was feeling a little sorry for myself and missing some human companionship.  I got over it.  I wait on very few.  No one is waiting on me.

I am looking forward to this day.  To the Tetons! and into Yellowstone National Park.  I also want to ride the Bear Tooth pass.  I have fond memories of both places.  I was there as a kid twice, once early in my marriage and again with my sons.  I imagine myself sitting on the deck of the Old Faithful Lodge watching the geyser explode. 

As usual it is farther than it looks on the map.  I keep hoping that I will see the Tetons but it is not until I cross Togwatee pass and am heading down to the valley do I see the Tetons.  I stop as a scenic overlook to snap some pictures and take a break.  It is a fine view.  Some bicyclists, a middle aged couple,  pull in to the overlook whom I passed earlier.  They were riding across the country.  They were not taking the easy route.  The pass we just came over was 9600 feet.  They were heading to Seattle. 

 

Do they not know that it would be much more efficient if they just strapped a motor on those bikes?  They have more mountain passes to conquer.  What they are doing is impressive.  I prefer my ride.

I ride down the valley and into Jackson Hole.  A neat town, but expensive.  Again, there are a lot of cool spots in the world but then they get discovered and too many people lessen the attractiveness (screw it up) of the place. I think of California as a prime example.  But I digress.

Here is my lunch spot.

 

Vermin Supreme: When I'm President Everyone Gets A Free Pony

I love politics!  Free ponies

Thought for the day

Day six continued

“Stop worrying about the potholes in the road and enjoy the journey.” – Babs Hoffman

I ride out of Rocky Mountain National Park and into Estes Park.  Estes Park is full of development and traffic.  It is still a pretty area but congested.  That is a problem with nice places.  Too many people move there and then it becomes not so nice.

I head east towards Loveland.  I realize I am going the wrong direction but the mountains interfere with travelling in an efficient manner.  I ride down a Highway 34.  It is a scenic two lane highway that follows a river.  I am stuck behind a pickup towing a RV trailer for what seems like forever.  I get frustrated  to go so slow on such a nice road.  It has been a long day already.   He is apparently a proud ex-Marine.  Semper fi. 

After a suitable period of reflection (not a bad life travelling around in an RV at a leisurely pace), I get a break, kick the bike down a gear and blow by the Marine.  It is great to be freed from slow moving vehicles.

I regroup at a McDonalds in Loveland.  They have Wi-Fi and I am tired and need a break.  I review the maps.  Damn, it is over 500 miles to Yellowstone.   That seems more than a little daunting.  There are forest fires in Glacier so that is off the table.   I briefly consider continuing to head east to Minnesota to stay with my mother.  I would get a nice bed, some good cooking and a very pleasant environment by the lake.  She is also lonely and would like my company.  It would be easy.

That visit will wait.  The adventure will continue.  It is time for my second wind and to make some time and distance.

Full speed ahead, I will do this.   I am a road warrior, a machine.   I am back in the plains where the deer and the antelope play.    I see  antelope and more plains.  At one point,  being bored  and  on a lonely stretch,  I crank it up to 100 mph.  As some of my packing is suspect, I decide this probably is not a good idea.  Six hours and 300 miles later, as the sun is setting, I arrive in Riverton, WY and find a nice hotel.

A better timeline

Latin is hard.  I previously have posted about shenanigans of the ex-wife and her boss and used the term quid pro quo.  I am pretty sure some do not understand this term.  Some have trouble following my logic and timeline through the posts.  I can fix that.
Perhaps one of the advantages of keeping a land line, with the same number, is that occasionally I get inquiries on the ex-wife, Marie Hanna and her new husband, and boss, Raymond Lambert.  A few have stumbled onto this blog. 
Sometimes I rant.  Sometimes I vent.  In my opinion one should not act unethically and run a personal fiefdom at taxpayers expense.  If you do run a personal fiefdom you should produce results other than enriching your corporate sponsor.  I dislike hypocrites am happy to share what I know and why I am surprised they are still employed at Ohio Connections Academy.
First you start out with some clandestine business trips together. By the way they are married at this time.
http://dangerousdavidworld.blogspot.com/2013/03/women-are-sneaky.html
Then you go house shopping together.  Marie C. Hanna is still married.
http://dangerousdavidworld.blogspot.com/2013/06/lets-go-house-shopping-marie-and-ray.html
Then you move out and get promoted to superintendent of Ohio Connections Academy by Ray Lambert to for your excellent performance. Then for a little gratitude, or payback.  Marie Hanna buys a table and sends it to Raymond Lambert's house in Batavia, Ohio.
https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7646236209855165689#editor/target=post;postID=5985890008965023554;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=208;src=postname
Eventually you file for divorce.  At he divorce hearing you have your secretary, being paid by Ohio Connections Academy, testify.
Why does all this matter?  Failing to properly educate students cost each student $50,000 in lifetime earnings.  You cannot get those years back.
https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5970436030035544472#editor/target=post;postID=8776098659141932362;onPublishedMenu=posts;onClosedMenu=posts;postNum=85;src=postname
The results Of Ohio Connections Academy. 
http://logicalconsequence.blogspot.com/2014/10/a-375-gpa.html
I hate to see this charter scam perpetrated on the taxpayers of Ohio.  I hate to see unethical behavior rewarded with six figure salaries. 


To sum it she slept her way to the top of a failing school.


As one of my neighbors elegantly stated, "do not shit where you eat".

Thought for the day

Two types

More INTJ stuff- Abused in Fiction

Some good stuff here:


http://mandywallace.com/the-character-most-writers-get-wrong/


The magic elixir: perceived arrogance + perceived lack of emotion + perceived unpredictability + intelligence = prime fictional villain.

INTJs Are Wicked Smart

• “Smart” doesn’t really explain the INTJ’s thinking, though. Because they don’t just memorize data. They break it down to its principles to understand how it all works together and what it implies about every other fact. This makes them incredibly insightful by other people’s standards.
• Objectively, INTJs have the highest collective IQ of any other type.
• Their Se function constantly and unconsciously gathers data from their environment providing the INTJ with accurate “impressions.” These “impressions” sometimes appear uncanny or bordering on the prescient to others. It isn’t magic, of course. It’s just data gathering and analysis. But because the INTJ discards the data once he’s formed an impression and shares only the outcome of his thoughts, it seems to others that the INTJ picked up knowledge that he could not have because nobody shared it with him.
• You can probably guess that teachers love the INTJ, but people with secrets don’t.
• To some, this intuitive quality can be very intimidating. And it’s prime villain material because a foe who “knows everything” seems unbeatable. (This doesn’t mean the INTJ actually knows anything at all, but it’s how some perceive them.)

Videos too!


One of the best insights into the INTJ mind comes from YouTuber, Cztanu. He’s an INTJ who creates video advice for INTJs and the people who want to date or understand them. He covers topics like: how to know if an INTJ is interested in you, warnings to the INTJ’s lover, how to keep an INTJ interested, and what’s up with INTJ communication delays.

Day 6 Rocky Mountain National Park

The start of another beautiful day.   The parking lot is about half filled up with motorcycles.  I meet a rider from Germany.  He has rented a Harley Davidson and is pursuing a dream.

 I started by backtracking back through Granby, Colorado.  Some new developments are going up there and there is a fancy new McDonalds.  I hate to see the blatant commercialization of some of these small towns.  Developers, please be a little more subtle.   This is a little unsettling to me.  An example of hypocritical thinking by me as I think to myself that I would enjoy a nice little mountain retreat in one of these developments.

I only had a couple of scares on my trip.  Heading towards the park some idiot in a big pickup truck decided to make a left turn in front of me.  I hit the brakes pretty hard and cleared with no problem.  Fucking idiots, ruining my Zen (not sure if I really know how to define Zen but at times I think I can feel it), sense of security and serenity.   I am sure this is all part of my brain development.  Scientists believe that the extra concentration needed to successfully operate a motorcycle can contribute to higher general levels of brain function.   There are actual studies on this.  My brain is working pretty well.

I get to the park and pay my entrance fee.  You start out in a valley.  It is green and lush.  On my prior trip I had seen lots of elk in the valley.  Nothing on this trip or they are hiding very well.  Lots of other motorcyclists doing the same thing I am.  Many are working their way towards Sturgis, South Dakota.  It is an interesting way to travel.

I climb out of the valley.  Again, outstanding views and scenery.  I keep going up and up on wonderful switchback roads.  The bike does this without much effort.    Surely, the top must be near.  It is not, I keep climbing and climbing.

You go above the tree line and see snow on the top of the mountains.  There is an alpine visitor center which I stop to enjoy the views.  It is crowded at the top of the mountain.

I travel on.  It is cool and comfortable.  The road is busy.  I see three elk grazing high above the road.  They know how to get away from people.  There is nowhere to stop for a photo.  I file the memory away in my brain.

This is a wonderful park with a wonderful  road filled with spectacular views.  It takes me most of the day to get through the park.  A day well spent pursuing Zen or some such nonsense.

I make judgments but it save time

I couldn’t do it.  I do not have it in me.  A character flaw?  A lack of interest and will?  Poor upbringing?

While in Winter Park, on my motorcycle adventure, I observed perfection in dress.  A man was  at the trendy fish taco restaurant, looking perfect, preppy, pretty  and complete.  He had a white sweater with the sleeves wrapped strategically  around his neck.  Clean Birkenstock shoes, creased khakis, and beautiful  hair.  Each hair was exactly where it should be.  He looks prettier than the woman he is with.  The ultimate preppy look.

I laughed to myself.  Seriously, a white sweater?  How does he get it to stay in place?  Tacos? One splatter?  That would end badly for me.

I could never be that pretty.  Never be that vain. I would fail miserably.

Give me good enough.  Give me some sweat and an adventure.  Give me horsepower.  Give me the same good food.  Give me deep thoughts and good company.  Please don’t give me preppy clothes or expect perfection. 

I realize I am not like some men.  Some are entirely foreign to me.  Not to sound too arrogant, but I prefer substance over form.

I realize I am judging.  Can he change a tire or chop down a tree? 

Perhaps he has it all, form and substance.  I doubt it.


That is unfair.  I know it and judge myself.  I am guilty of making these stereotypes.  But it saves so much time. 


Here I go judging again.....

Back in the USA

Why Not.  Why not is the title of this blog.  Dealing with life on my own terms and writing about some of it.  It is a different and better way of looking at things from my perspective.  Writing and sharing what I want.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.” – Mark Twain

Mark Twain was a wise man.  I admire his wit and wisdom.  He was a world traveler.

My broad goal, acquire experiences.  Why not, in twenty years I may be dead, if not sooner. Or not.

I took a trip to Spain and Italy.  This view alone was worth the trip.

 

 

I ate well, slept well, and saw many wonderful things.  It was all good.  I got along well with my traveling companion. Planes, trains, cruise ships, taxis and a many miles on my own two feet.

 

Now back to work…..

 

Thought for the day

My other blog

http://logicalconsequence.blogspot.com/

The deal with charter schools was if you give us the money we will produce the results.  They now have the money and autonomy, but they no longer want the accountability.

The profit motive has destroyed whatever moral authority the charter school movement had.  They, or at least the majority of E-schools in my opinion,  are beholden to the financial interests who hide behind for profit management companies.    Private does not mean better.

Throw in some corruption, weak boards,  and lack of oversight and you have a disaster for the education system, students, and taxpayers.


Results matter.  Ethics matter.


http://logicalconsequence.blogspot.com/2014/10/a-375-gpa.html