Tygger Tracks

What, Constellation dead? In case you are wondering what I am talking about, I am talking about NASA’s return to the moon space flight program, Constallation http://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/constellation/main/. It is slated for cancelation in President Obama’s proposed 2011 budget. But really, why should be sare?

Should we care about prosthetic limbs that have drastically improved peoples lives after they have lost a leg or arm due to injury or birth defect? Should we care about modern computer systems that allow us to search for anything of interest, or read this blog? The internet and World Wide Web has allowed us to connect with each other in a fashion we had not dream of even twenty years ago. Should I care that

I looked up NASA technology spin offs and found there site dedicated to maintaining a database of just that http://www.sti.nasa.gov/tto/Spinoff2008/index.html. This is an excert from there 2008 Spinoff document:

“While NASA does not manufacture, market or sell commercial products, many commercial products are derived from NASA technology. Many NASA-originated technologies are adapted by private industry for use by consumers like you.”

Are we ready to see the death of the dream spoken of by President Kennedy? President Obama had used ideals to promote a return to space on his campaign trail, but a lot of people feel betrayed that he has signaled for the end of the in progress project, Constellation. A lot of people thought his words on the campaign trail were his promise to follow through with President Bush’s statement to return to the moon by 2020. Is this a sign of the end for our space program? Will we now fall behind in the space race? A lot of Americans are concerned that without a space program we will be celebrating a Russian or European Space Agency conquest of space. Of course I find this curiously ironic as most of America is full of European decedents, but that is another rant.

I mentioned the end of the Constellation to another friend of mine who is a strong proponent to a return to space. In fact he has been active in many project over the years, form the Millennial Project by Marshall Savage, to its current child, the Living Universe Foundation. Well, okay Mr. Doe has credentials and I trust his judgment, but guess what he said? No, go ahead and guess, I’ll wait.

Insert dramatic pause here

Oh, okay, I  will tell you… He words, “Ares-1/V and Constellation (the current bloated and underperforming piece of crap it is) needs to die.” Whoa. Hold on, as stunning as his words were, I can see a truth behind them. Is he right? Is the project bloated and under performing? There is always that possibility. That is the danger of running a government agency with all the bureaucracy that that implies. After all what is an elephant, but a mouse built to committee specifications.

As you can see my view has undergone a change over the course of the last two days since I heard that the project was having its life’s blood cut off. What is the truth of the matter? There are always more than one side to any discussion.

I had a dream last night. I dreamed of a large house. The house is something you would have seen built in the early 1900′s, large high ceilings and many rambling rooms. It’s a mansion really, and I live there. It has seen better days. In my mind it is old, the siding on the exterior is grayed with time, the interior has older, worn and faded wall paper and everything about it is held upright with hopes and dreams. There are times when I see a huge living room in back, with its ceiling that extends for several floors and other times when I walk though the halls just peeking into the many rooms and wonder what is in there.

Last night’s dream was different. As I walked I realized I needed to demolish the building and start over, brand new. Yes, I would tear it all down and build something new, maybe even better suited for my current life.

There were several people in attendance, looking on. I knew everyone of them and at a time identified several people I knew among them. They all looked on with no particular expression on their faces, just an overall support, though from a distance. They represented the ‘safe’ distance from the demolition that was to come.

After the demolition was planned and I started looking back, I set eyes on a shelf with some books on it that I wanted to keep, so I dragged them out and away from the demolition site. Next I spied a few of my Bocci balls lying about; I bowled them over to the ‘safe’ area. After I looked back into what appeared to be the garage, full of things that I would need, I realized that I did not want to demolish my old house after all; I would start with sorting through things and rebuilding, after all. I had the impression that I had demolished this house before and started brand new several times in the past, but this time I had too many things that I would loose.

Yes, I would not demolish this house, I set my mind in motion and walked around into the kitchen, that I knew so well, and opened the windows only to feel a strong breeze blow through, helping to route out the stale air and bring in the fresh. As I walked past the kitchen I noticed someone in there, a woman. She was smiling a knowing smile as I asked her how she was doing. She replied that she was content and went back to what she was doing at the table.

Now, I know there was some who will be alarmed at the revelation, but I do want everyone to understand that I am fine; these were signs and portents, not a reflection of any unhealthy desires. That being said, I have accepted over the years that this house represents my own self view. The demolition is not a form of ‘self harm’, but a desire on my part to rebuild myself into a different person. I have done this several times in the past, as I have moved from group of friends to another or moved from one stage of my life to another, such as moving from the Air Force back into civilian life. Remember that, though there was a demolition, there was a new house in the plans to be built. However, this demolition was finally passed over as I gathered up the tools and threw them away. In this house I will stay and I will sort through all my crap and rebuild. Well, I guess most people need to do that anyway, eh?

There has been a recent move in my life to find old friend, long time passed into the mists of time, and reacquaint myself with them. I know that there is shock and astonish out there when I say that the internet has been the tool that I have used with great success, but it’s true! It’s really true! Okay, I was getting carried away, but let me get back to my diatribe, here.

Yes, the house is a huge thing, at times it reminding me of the Addams Family home. Sometimes there is a store front on the first floor, where I know there was a thriving store, but that store has been closed for many years. Those of you from the past will know which store I most likely mean, even if, in my mind at least, the store bears no resemblance to that place. Perhaps that store will open again. I will see what more I can glean from the images in my mind, but I wanted to jot this snippet down and post, that seemed to be my driving thought as I woke this morning. No alarm, just a sudden shift from sleep to wake.

Have you ever reconnected with a friend from years gone by? So, think about that and then ponder what has happened in your life since you spoke to that person last. Whoa. . . I caught myself thinking about that same subject recently as I reconnected with a friend from my first attempt at college, back in 1982, or so. I believe the last time I spoke to her I was living in Gainesville, GA, and that was 1985(?).

Okay, so that was 24 years ago. Or had I joined the Air Force? I remember talking to her and she was intending on joining the Air Force herself, so maybe it was 22 or 23 years ago. However, that is not the point, the point here is, what has happened in my life in the last 22 years? Again, whoa . . . I joined the Air Force active duty, right out of being in the Marine Corps Reserve. I spent 9 years in the Air Force and moved to Oklahoma. I have been around the world (not as many places as some, but then my job was focused on a single Air Force base, mainly), never stationed there, mind you, just visited.

Heck, even after the Air Force, I have worked several jobs from telephone installer, to computer repair dude and even back into retail for several years working at an office supply chain. Been back to school and now have a job that has me travelling all over the country installing software.

We usually focus on the job at hand, and keep our ‘noses to the grind-stone’, as the saying goes. Maybe it is the last vestiges of a mid-life crisis, but at nearly half a century of years, when you look back it is like climbing a shear face cliff and looking back down from the top to realize just how far you have come, in what seems to be an incredible short amount of time. Of course at the time it seemed like the longest day of your life, but such is life, eh?

Oh well, back to pondering, Pinky.

I had a sudden realization recently, almost an epiphany, in fact. I react differently in the company of people than I do when I am alone. Now this is not such a revelation in that fact, but it is in how I react that stunned me.

You see, when I am alone (we’ill start there) I stop and look around more. I read signs; I appreciate the sites around me. I see more of what is there. I take my time and am more laid back about things. To be honest, none of us really does any of that enough, but this observance is in stark contrast to when I am in the company of others.

I noticed this when I was teaming with others on a new online game. It is a new game and I needed to stop and read things more to learn what was going on and learn the game. However when I teamed up, I was rushing around everywhere, not really seeing the content for what it was, I was trying to get my level up and keep up with “the Joneses”, as it were. I did not have to, in fact had I simply stated that I was taking in the sights, I am sure they would have taken the time with me, instead, I was rushing around and I could feel my tension growing and I was getting more and more frustrated. Gees..

You see, I have this problem; I suffer from the mental delusion that I must serve those around me. It is not demeaning, it is who I am and I do enjoy my time spent in this endeavor, but I am learning that I don’t have to do this “all the time”. In fact most people do not expect it, if they do then that qualifies as “unrealistic expectations” and that is their problem, not mine.

Now I have to admit that most of us enjoy (at least I think ‘most’ of us, eh?) being waited on. I enjoy when someone offers me a ride (at least now that I have a stable ride of my own, but that is another issue), or offers too cook dinner for me. It is just a nice thing to do. Now when that is taken for granted. Say I start expecting them to cook a meal for me every Saturday. Well, that is when it turns ugly and wrong.

Whelp, these are the things I am still learning as I continue to grow up into an adult. I guess now is a good time, eh? After all Peter Pan can’t be your hero all your life, right?

Pardon me, but there is a soapbox and I want to stand on it for a moment.

So, what the hell anyway? Back in 1989 I was in the military and donating blood on a regular basis. Then I received a letter, it seems that my blood was no longer good for donation. I was ‘deferred for life’. At the time, I did not think anything of it, actually I did not note the ‘deferrment’.

About five years ago, I tried donating again. I was told that I was not able to donate with the Oklahoma Blood Institute. If I wanted to donate I would have to have additional tests done to have the deferment removed from my name. Time and tide just did nto allow me to travel from Chickasha to Oklahoma City and visit the main offices of the OBI and have my blood drawn for these test. At least not during the week I was either in school, working at Staples or (at the time) trying to keep my failing marriage from crashing down around my ears.

Well it is 2009, my marriage crashed a few years ago, I am no longer in college and I am now living in Oklahoma City again. Yeah! Last year I tried again (I had forgotten about my previous failure) and was informed of my deferment. That’s okay, I can fix it this year so I go to the OBI offices two weeks ago and have my blood drawn for testing. Easie peasie, right? Don’t I wish.

When I first got to the offices I was told they did not know what I was talking about and could not access the main system to look up my records to figure it all out. However, they would call in the morning and straighten things out. So, they call be back, now they knew what they needed to test for and I could come back in the office to have the tests run.

I get back into the office and the man behind the desk looks up and says, “That will be $65.” I reply, “I don’t think so. These tests are for you folks only and only so I can donate blood, that you are constantly advertising you are in short supply of.” Gees. To this he replies, “Oh-kay, let me call someone to ask.” Can you hear the Jeopardy theme song by now? I could.. .

So he calls, I wait and it is all finally cleared up, they are now authorized to poke a hole in my arm and drain out 5 viles of my precious bodily fluid. They tell me it will take about a week and I will be able to donate, if I pass the test. I should I have been studying, right?

This all became and issue because my company has their annual blood drive and I want to participate. I know my blood is the same type as most of the country, but I want to help, ya know? So I get to my 10:30am appointment to have my blood drawn. At first the lady was at least ambivalent about my presence (I figure they poke lots of people and these people are not know for their drive and people skills), but after I am marked as deferred, I am told to call the number and make way for the next person. Even if I was cleared in the system, it will be next time around for me to donate. “Well fuck.” Yes, I know, a profanity, but I do want it to be clear, that was a very well placed, long thought out and emphasized expression.

Okay, so I call. And I wait. After the third transfer to talk to someone in another department, because they can not access the system, I gave up and hung up the phone. “Deferred for life.” I felt like I had a tattoo on my forehead, “Leper”.

Now I know, cognitively at any rate, that I am not any less of a person for my life sentence. Its not like I was placed in prison or anything. Hell, I have been trying to give blood, partly because they are always asking for donations. But it still feels like a slap in the face, in front of my co-workers. “There goes Thetford, he has been deferred for life.”

So I go to lunch and the restaurant I go to is only taking cash. And, of course, I do not carry cash much anymore. “Well fuck.”

Okay, better out than in and I am done with this subject.