10° Fahrenheit

And windy again. Cold enough for sure. Downtown St. Paul is easy on
one's eyes, at least at this time of the morning, and from the angle
just across the street from the Xcel.

Company email yesterday said that J. Russell Jones died. No wallflower, Russell.

Dorothea is down. Liver, thyroid, knee, hand, incontinence, due for
colonoscopy tomorrow.

My coworker Ryan, who got kidnapped corporately from one building to
another, and away from riding the bus, gave me his Metropass. Should
be good til the end of the year. Will save me forty dollars perhaps.

--
David
www.schons.net

9° Fahrenheit

Officially cold. I walked from home to my dental appoint. Time to get
out a heavier jacket. I continue pondering about Hour Car. Both
Dorothea exclaim "That's a third car." Indeed that is exactly it.
Madeline was to take ski poles with her to school for practice.

--
David
www.schons.net

Hour Car?

Coming home Saturday from visiting my mom, the van made funny sounds
again. Scary sounds. Scary enough that it was back in the shop Sunday.
That's it. The van is dead to me. I missed the bus this morning--84D,
I was heading straight to work, skipping the Y, though that little
chain of events made me think I should just go out and walk thirty
minutes. It also reminded me of Hour Car.

--
David
www.schons.net

Day of Connections

What a day of connections. First a bit of housekeeping. I didn't ride
the bus on Friday as I needed to pickup Madeline and cohorts after
practice. So, I didn't jot anything down.

At the Y though--Mike, a lawyer, in the shower, a bit older, and
another fellow were conversing. Mike was saying how he felt tired all
the time, even with being bed by nine. His doctor told him that
testosterone treatments might help, with the downside being increased
risk of prostate cancer.

Out of the shower, I commented how that was a great line that Mike had
in response to his doctor--"No thanks. I'd rather be tired than dead."
to which I added it is not so much being dead that bothers me--or
maybe it does, the concept of none existence--but rather the living
with the prostrate cancer would be a problem.

So we're both standing there naked, me just out of the shower, and he
just about to turn to the sink to start shaving. This seems
significant. And he pulls out a couple near death stories. One: a
woman told him of watching from above as a medical team worked on her
during her having a heart attack. Another: people gathered at a home
after a guy's funeral, and a floor lamp begins sparking and does so
continuously for twenty seconds before stopping. The implication
being: he was there.

So, today. Kind of a busy schedule. One item is the Quaker memorial
service for Barbara Neal. Various people get up to speak. One woman, a
neighbor, mentions another neighbor's last. A unique name, one that is
known to me from college. Sure enough. We have eventually run into
each other.

She asks "are you in the phonebook?" and I can only answer that I
think so, but am not sure. My thought was "Google me." when I got
home, I did. Some Kinda Possible, my blog shows up. (I Googled
"schons.") but also near the top of the list was
christopherschons.com. I suspect that is my nephew.

--
David
www.schons.net

Day of Connections

What a day of connections. First a bit of housekeeping. I didn't ride
the bus on Friday as I needed to pickup Madeline and cohorts after
practice. So, I didn't jot anything down.

At the Y though--Mike, a lawyer, in the shower, a bit older, and
another fellow were conversing. Mike was saying how he felt tired all
the time, even with being bed by nine. His doctor told him that
testosterone treatments might help, with the downside being increased
risk of prostate cancer.

Out of the shower, I commented how that was a great line that Mike had
in response to his doctor--"No thanks. I'd rather be tired than dead."
to which I added it is not so much being dead that bothers me--or
maybe it does, the concept of none existence--but rather the living
with the prostrate cancer would be a problem.

So we're both standing there naked, me just out of the shower, and he
just about to turn to the sink to start shaving. This seems
significant. And he pulls out a couple near death stories. One: a
woman told him of watching from above as a medical team worked on her
during her having a heart attack. Another: people gathered at a home
after a guy's funeral, and a floor lamp begins sparking and does so
continuously for twenty seconds before stopping. The implication
being: he was there.

So, today. Kind of a busy schedule. One item is the Quaker memorial
service for Barbara Neal. Various people get up to speak. One woman, a
neighbor, mentions another neighbor's last. A unique name, one that is
known to me from college. Sure enough. We have eventually run into
each other.

She asks "are you in the phonebook?" and I can only answer that I
think so, but am not sure. My thought was "Google me." when I got
home, I did. Some Kinda Possible, my blog shows up. (I Googled
"schons.") but also near the top of the list was
christopherschons.com. I suspect that is my nephew.

--
David
www.schons.net

84 and Home

And now on the way home. Just passed the bright lights of "The
Village." pretty much brain-dead. There is a guy behind me talking on
a cellphone in what I surmise is Somali. A woman ahead of me is
talking about subsidized apartments. She doesn't sound like she needs
low income housing, but then who knows?

--
David
www.schons.net

54 LTD II

I tried something new. Actually still in the midst. Here is: I am on
the 54. So far all is good. I caught the 21 to St. Paul instead of the
21 to Minneapolis when I came out of the Y. Just threw myself on the
winds of fate with nary a schedule. The 21 stops at the corner of
Smith and whatever, in the midst of what was forever a vacant lot but
where there is now a parking lot. The 54 stops in front of the Xcel.

--
David
www.schons.net

54 LTD

There is across the side street from my bus stop a tree, of what genus
or species I do not know. It might be an oak tree. Tree identification
is difficult this time of year. I started to think of how the gnarled
main main branches divided into branches, in silhouette of mercury
vapor street light looked as arteries and capillaries. Pondered how
the trunk-to-branch system is the same answer to a design problem as
our circulatory system. How ancestrally are we related are we, tree
and I, across Darwin epochs? As the bus approached, I noted that tree
was read banded and surrounded with no parking signs.

--
David
www.schons.net

Shale Sands

Depressing. My weight continues to squirt up. Ugh. Also depressing is
reading an article about shale oil shades in Canada. I guess we knew
this was coming, but even a little taste of a description of the
mining and tailings and refining is stupifying. So being on the bus
with the sticky floor is a good thing.

--
David
www.schons.net

Ad Hoc Bus Committee

5:24 AM

Back on the bus. This is not the white bus. How's that for a start?
Lame. But it's a start.

I saw my cholesterol results from my most recent physical. Went back
up. Discouraging. The one thing that I have going on is the Clif
bar--they're probably high in saturated fat. So I think that I will
try substituting with Kashi bars. Not ready to give up bars.

Also I think I am ready for WW at Work. Thursday.

Yesterday was the Meeting for Business. The Ad Hoc Committee for paid
staff was last on the agenda, and wasn't allotted enough time. So
yesterday I got in a month's worth of church attendance.

11/11/07

My idea is that I should be able to sit here and write, in the vein of
the people who are sitting and knitting and crocheting. Facing
constantly my feelings of inadequacy, brought up first by Richard the
clerk and his opening comments--instead of an inspirational quotation,
he pondered on the ad hoc committee, and brought on second by Paul and
his announcing about his mother-in-law's death. All about me, isn't
it?

--
David
www.schons.net

Madeline sees first snow

5:25 AM

Ah, back on the bus again--with the MDA. I didn' t ride the bus at all
last. Yesterday, Monday, I did, but I forgot the cellphone. I read
some more from the beginning of Cold Mountain instead. Maybe that
wasn't such a bad thing.

Reading an article last night about Antony Flew. Got me to thinking
about life, death, the universe and all. One comment that struck me
was of his idea the concept of God is to general. Indeed.

Which leads me to bus seats and blogs. Some buses have old, ugly, but
cushy bad vinyl seats. Some buses--today's--have more modern, more
attractive, but harder seats. Bumpy as medieval cobbles.

And to blogs. All things come to an end and are ephemeral. Eventual I
will stop posting, the domain name will expire, and no one will know
it was here.

7:16 AM

Still too early. How ironic for the bus. My connection is 84D, 7:38,
University and Snelling. I caught the 7:12 in front of the Y. I should
get the next one. That'll give me more time on the elliptical, anyway.
Otherwise, I'd be standing around at Snelling and I-94 for twenty
minutes. Don't see any point in that.

Because I am getting on before the peak time starts, and make the
whole home to Y and back trip in one transfer, my cost $1.50. With gas
at $3.00 a gallon, a roundtrip of eight to ten miles at probably
fifteen miles to the gallon in the minivan, that's competitive.

--
David
www.schons.net

A Good Day So Far

I just hit the YouTube wall. I thought that I could watch videos on
the Wing, but no. Now I remember that there is some sort of mismatch
between their file format and the T-Mobile network. Perhaps that is
just as well, since writing, even as feasible as this is better than
watching videos IHMO.

In the tub I am. Liam is showering in the basement. Ah, just finished.
Dorothea has returned from dropping off at The Mall of America
Madeline and her friends, and is puttering about in the kitchen.

As the girls were leaving, Liam returned, dropped off from a camping
overnight with a friend's dad and five other boys.

The Led Zeppelin songs that I had queued up on the PC iTunes is finished.

I did not ride the bus at all last week. Two morning medical
appointments didn't help. I hope to get back in the groove next week.
I actually missed the writing time.

Dorothea and I had a bit of a tough time this morning. Me, for
starters--I didn't sleep well at all. So I slept in later than usual
for Saturday. Dorothea, bless her, wanted go to the Y. But by the time
that she was ready to go, I wasn't. And there were issues--she wanted
drop off her car for repairs and needed a ride, plus, since she had
made the effort, my backing out was slimy.

What didn't even realize (or remember) until was there is I don't like
the Y on Saturday mornings after 9:00. Kiddie ballet--Liam must have
done a session, probably as a four year-old; a super-packed water
aerobic--which must have raised the waterlevel in the pool by a foot;
a "train the trainer" class--well attended, and with lots of
merchandize for sale; yoga--this meant that all the studios were in
use; Madeline called during meditation--my attempt to meditate; a
little kid was annoying in the locker room.

Madeline called because she wanted sugar to make banana bread. We
stopped at Lulu's corner store to get it on our way home. The door to
the store was locked. A note taped to the door: "Back in ten minutes."
three little kids waiting outside the door told Dorothea that it had
been way more than ten minutes. As I was backing up in the little
parking lot of the little to leave, I backed into an elm stump.

The banana bread didn't turn out as expected due the out of
order--late--sugar, gotten by Dorothea from a neighbor.

All in all, it has been a good day so far.

--
David
www.schons.net

Elliptical Confrontation

On an exercise bike. Partly killing time because I am going into the
lab for a fasting blood draw at 8:30, partly recovering from an
elliptical signup sheet confrontation. A woman was on my machine at my
time, and she didn't want to leave. She thought that I signed up for
7:00 and that I was fifteen minutes late; actually I signed up for
7:15. "Sorry about being pissy," I said, and thought "but bring it
out." oh well--loving kindness.

--
David
www.schons.net