Work

My life is moving in the right direction. Yesterday the 3rd shift electronics technician job was posted for bid. I was the first one to sign it. It will remain up until at least the end of the week. Next Friday Taryn has an interview at the Kansas Soldier's Home in Fort Dodge. I will be taking a personal holiday that day and going to Hartford to pick her up, as her car has a bad transmission or somesuch. In my mind, it would be ideal if we both got our jobs that we are seeking (even though I would be working 9 PM to 5:30 AM and Taryn would be working 2 PM to 10 PM). Sure, the hours wouldn't be perfect, but perhaps the personal space would be ideal for now. I keep telling myself that I am going to clean up my house more before that day comes, and it isn't happening. I did a little work yesterday, but not much has changed.

Summer

It's full summer and the weather is getting progressively hotter. The past couple of days at work I've sweated profusely the full eight hours, soaking my clothes. After work today I went to the bathroom and there was blood in my urine. This has happened a couple of times when I have run very far distances (5+ miles), and I even had outpatient surgery in my teens to try to find out the cause. The doctors didn't have any good explanation, and even asked me if I tried to stick a foreign object in my urethra while masturbating. The medical name for this condition is hematuria. There are no fans back where I was working for most of the day. It is very hot and humid. I'm going to tell the nurse about it tomorrow and tell them they need to get a fan back there. According to my red hat, they have already requested one. Maybe this will light a fire under their ass so it will actually get done.

I went and looked at a house yesterday in Bucklin, KS. Bucklin is 27 miles east of dodge city on US 54. The house is for sale by owner for 24,000 dollars. It is quite nice for the price. It has a newly added screened in back patio, and a brand new bathroom in the basement with garden tub and shower. As a first time home buyer, I would get a 8,000 dollar tax credit, essentially making the house cost me only 16,000 dollars. It is definately worth it from what I can tell, but it is quite a drive from work, and even farther to Garden City (80 miles) where I will be taking classes in the fall. If I get this scale tech job that I am vying for, then maybe it will be within my means.

Diction, Conviction, and Lots and Lots of Questions!!!

I didn't plan on adding another post until I finished my two part Philmont epic, but I just haven't been in the right mood for that kind of writing lately. My life has taken some interesting turns as of late, so I will have to put the other stuff on the back burner for now...

I'm going back to school this fall! I no longer feel any fulfillment from the daily stresses of the hide room, and education is my key out of there. I am in the process of enrolling at Garden City Community College, which is 50 miles west of me on Highway 50. I will be taking a PLC programming seminar, which starts August 24, and runs through the week. I'm taking my accrued vacation days during this time, so I will be getting paid for this! I also will be enrolling in Electricity I and II, which are two back to back 6 week courses that run from September to November. I did my FAFSA online, and am eligible for $4900 in Pell Grants for the 2009-2010 school year. If i take the 9 credits that I am looking at, that means I will get $1837 for this fall semester. Not too bad.

In the mean time, I've taken it upon myself to score myself an electronics technician job at Cargill. I've contacted the appropriate personnel at the plant and made my presence known. I've supplied said personnel with relevant documentation of my work and educational experience, as well as given them a healthy dose of the best speechcraft (this doesn't mean dishonesty, just diction, conviction, and lots and lots of questions!!!) I could muster. This morning the bid sheet was posted for the Electronics Tech. job. I was the very first person to put my name on it, and I made sure to write the numbers down in a noticeably bold font. Later this week, I will be contacting the Electronics Superintendent again, following up on the status of the 3rd shift electronics position, as well as reiterating to him that I will be continuing my education this fall.

If I don't get the 3rd shift job, I will have no choice but to move back to 2nd shift in the hide room, which really wouldn't be that bad. Until then, I'm going to do everything in my power win that bid. 17.50 an hour would make me and my families lives a little easier...

Philmont (Part 1: Acquiring Funds)

This is my one hundredth post, so I figure I should make it a little interesting.

In middle and high school I was in the Boy Scouts. I wasn't an overachiever or anything, but it was practically mandatory for the boys in my church to go on Wednesday nights, and I certainly enjoyed it. The only merit badge I ever earned was the Nuclear merit badge. I remember taking a tour of the Wolf Creek power plant, including the control room and the generating station (or whatever its called). I learned the difference between uranium 235 and 237, and the *theoretical* method for producing fusion power. I really enjoyed learning all this, and I might have learned more, but circumstances weren't ideal.

My main passion was camping. Every month (most of the time), we would go camping as a troop. We were required to have two adult leaders go along with us, which was often the main fallback. Our excursions included places like Lyon County State Fishing Lake (Reading Lake), Melvern Lake, Brother Anderson's farm, John Redmond Reservoir, Clinton Lake, and probably a few others that I've forgotten.

When I was eleven or twelve years old, Brother Bennet Anderson held a meeting for all the parents of Boy Scouts after church. He is quite the character. He is a war veteran (a medic), serving in Korea. His white hair was always reluctantly parted giving a suggestion of civility. He also had a creeping gut, absolutely no ass, and a case of the mutters. He was already in his 60's at the time.

So after church, Mom, Dad and I gather in the seminary room, along with a number of other parents and their sons. Bennet came prepared. His goal was to convince the boys, the parents, and possibly himself to prepare for an epic "high adventure" in two years time. A high adventure is like a campout on steroids. instead of staying out for one or possibly two nights, we would be gone for over two weeks. The destination: Philmont Scout Ranch near Cimarron, New Mexico. The Boy Scouts of America website has this to say about Philmont:

"Philmont Scout Ranch, the Boy Scouts of America's premier High Adventure™ base, challenges Scouts and Venturers with more than 200 square miles of rugged New Mexico wilderness. Backpacking treks, horseback cavalcades, and training and service programs offer young people many ways to experience this legendary country."

The main focus of that meeting was to get the boys excited about the trip. I know I was. I don't think I ever wanted anything more in my life. There was one huge setback though: the cost. Admission into Philmont alone was over $500 dollars, not to mention the cost of the equipment. Between getting a large backpack, sleeping bag, camp stove, and many other specifically lightweight items, I was looking at another thousand dollars. I was only twelve, so I couldn't yet get a job, so it was up to me to find other ways to earn my way. I knew my parents wouldn't/couldn't do it for me.

I had two years to earn 1500 dollars or so. It seemed pretty daunting, but there were a couple of things that would help significantly: First, there were the pancake feeds. Every January, the Boy Scout troop put one on at the National Guard Armory in Emporia. Because it was a group effort, all proceeds would be divided between us boys for a general "Philmont Fund" This money would help reduce the admission cost. Even though I wasn't directly benefiting from the sales, and was encouraged not to do so, I went door to door in my neighborhood and around town selling tickets. I don't remember how many I sold, but I'm positive I earned more than my fair share of that Philmont Fund when it was all said and done. Then there were the chocolate bar sales. Unlike the Pancake feeds, I could make some direct money off of this venture. Each candy bar (they were very large) cost two dollars. Of the two dollars, I could keep one. Once again, I went door to door, hocking my wares. This was a little more difficult than selling tickets, mainly because it was Mid-July. Our house wasn't air conditioned at the time, so we had to keep all the chocolate bars in the deep freeze. Each case had something like 24 candy bars in it, and when frozen solid, took a couple of hours before it reached a melting point. I would take the case with me and go door to door on foot, sometimes selling a case quickly, sometimes not at all. I did this every day for a couple of weeks, and easily knocked on more than half the doors in Emporia. I sold 18 cases. This paid for the rest of my admission fees, as well as a few pieces of equipment.

The next year I was able to earn even more money, by the way of hauling hay. I'd never done it before, and was only getting paid five cents a bale, but I managed to earn several hundred more dollars that way. There is so much more I could say about hauling hay, but it would be another post in and of itself.

When all was said and done, I managed to buy all my equipment myself, pay for my admission fees, and still have a few bucks left over to blow on the trip.

Tongueless Shoes

I have a co-worker who frequently asks me to tell him some of my more interesting childhood stories. He's gotten me to remember a few that I haven't thought of in a long time. Here is one of them:

After getting out of foster care in first grade, Rachel, Rebecca, Lydia, Jesse and I were reunited with Mom and Dad in Emporia. Jacob was forced to stay in a state institution from this point forward. I remember right after getting to Emporia, before I had gone to school yet, mom took us kids to K-Mart to buy clothes. The money for the clothes was somehow acquired through the SRS. I remember getting new sneakers and a pajama jumpsuit with a Batman cape. I thought the sneakers would make me run faster. They didn't, but the Batman suit fully lived up to my expectations! Every night I would put it on and race around the house. The bottoms were flame retardant black pants of the polyester-mix variety. The shirt was equally made, long sleeved, with a large yellow Batman logo on the front. On the back it had two Velcro stickers, which is where the little cape detached. I remember having to take it off right before bed, as it was supposedly a choking or suffocation hazard or somesuch.

That was the last time I remember having new clothes for a long time. With five children living at home, plus dad paying child support on Jacob to the state of Kansas, we were desperately poor. I was oblivious until third grade, but that is another story. From that point on, I wore garage sale clothes or donations from kindly church members. As we all can remember, fashion and branding is an important part of public education, so I didn't fare well. I was always the one who was picked on. Some of the children were merciless.

In the eighth grade, I got new shoes again. I went with my mother to the "1/2 of 1/2" store, where imperfect or otherwise unsatisfactory clothing is sold for a drastically reduced price. There, she bought me a black pair of old man style walking shoes. They were unbranded and totally black, the soles, the uppers, the laces, everything. I knew they weren't cool or anything, but I was grateful to have a pair of shoes that didn't have any holes in the sides like my last pair. The next morning when I am getting ready for school, I put my new shoes on. When I pull the tongue up on the right shoe, it pulls completely off, leaving my white socks to contrast with the black laces. In my mind it would be pointless to put the tongue back in without it attached, as it would more than likely fall out, so I just had to go to school that way.

I was quite the introvert back then, which probably made me an easy target. Nobody said anything until fourth hour. P.E. Immediately, my new shoes were noticed, and commented on. I don't remember any of the specifics, but it was cruel, ceaseless, and continued every day unpunished by the teachers. Some of the girls even joined in. Before it was the blue sweatpants I wore to school every day. Or maybe the fact that I didn't shower for weeks at a time. But there was something about them shoes that caught the interest and brought the worst out of those kids. Maybe it wasn't really like this, but I remember everyone joining in. I don't remember this kind of thing happening to anyone but me. And I just looked at the floor.