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.

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.

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.

Whelp more later, but my own bed compels me.

TTFN

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?

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.

There was an interesting Android Sisters piece about this. “The past does not exist. The future does not exist.. .. Now is a very long time. Why live in a past [that does not exist] or live in a future [that does not exist].” Very profound when you think about it, eh?

To those I say unto you, “Learn from the past, plan for the future, but live in the now,” or in the words of the doctor, “Now. Now. Now.”

Thank you, Mr. Fulton.

I drifted, for how long I can not say. All I know is that I was in a quiet place where I was at peace, but the peace troubled me. So here I floated, alone in a dark, a peaceful yet troubling fog. Yes, peace. I focused on that and drifted farther into the depths.

“Patrick!” came a voice out of the fog. “Wake up, Patrick!”

No, I don’t want to wake up, can’t they see I am at peace finally? Leave me be! Let me drift off stage.

Pain, sharp and distinct, with the pain came a crack of skin on skin, like someone being slapped.

“Don’t you dare leave me here, you bastard! Wake up, damn you” followed by another slap. My head lurched sharply to the side. I was the one being slapped and now I felt the pain instead of noting it in a peacefully detached manner. And I knew that voice, Edith, my beautiful technology angel. I hear the stress in your voice, almost to tears. That was wrong, she would not cry.

“John, stop the van! He is coming too.” Said a not Edith voice.

He is? Why is he not awake? Can’t he see how peaceful it is here? Pain again, and again my head is twisted to the other side.

“Pat, can you hear me? Wake up, please wake up…” Edith said again, her voice drifting away in a veil of despair.

“Edie, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” I managed to speak with a voice that creaked like an old man. “And who let John drive? I thought you wanted me to live.”

With a great sigh of relief, suddenly I was being hugged while still strapped into the bench of our RV. I heard the engine roar dull to a low rumble and finally a low idle as our breakneck speed was finally ground to a halt as we pulled over to the side of the road.

“Oh, yeah, he’s back.” I heard from the driver’s seat.

My body felt like it was a hundred years old and my mind began to force its way out from the black, warm silence that was my unconsciousness. Counting the voices I had heard, I accounted for everyone except for one, Rebecca.

“Where’s Rebecca?”

“Knocked out, near death and he still keeps track of us,” came Peter’s voice from his spot in the back of the van. “She’s back here with me.”

“After we got you in the van,” Edith started, “she was supposed to be the last one in, but she stopped at the door and screamed. We found her lying just outside the door. We thought it might be what attacked you, but that thing high-tailed it for the building when we got there.”

“How is she doing?” I asked.

“Physically she seems okay, her vital signs are steady, but it’s almost like her mind snapped.” Edith continued.

“So, where are we now?” I had tried to sit up and look out the window. At least the window was my goal. I found that my body was as sore as my mind. I had managed to get my body upright, as I glanced out the window, I saw a parking lot, with the ocean in the distance.

There were heavy foot steps as John came back from the driver’s seat. “I parked us at some mall; Edgewater is the name of the place.” Edgewater Mall, I knew the place from years ago. The mall was just down the highway from Beauvoir, about a mile or so, I had not been out for long. It just felt like an eternity; time to catch the team up on current state of affairs. “It would seem that your timing is as impeccable as ever.” I nodded in John’s direction. “How long was I out, then?”

“We had just pulled up when we saw you fighting that ghostly thing.” said Peter, moving forward from his seat in the back of the RV. “It was a good thing we decided to push it a little to get here. I know you didn’t expect us for another hour or so.”

I turned in his direction, “How is Rebecca?”

“She seems to be recovering, her vitals are strong and brain waves are back to normal, too. She seems to be just sleeping now.” He replied, taking a seat towards the back, well away from any technical devices.

Settling down in his seat, John asked, “So, what’s the op, Top?”

“Well for starters, let me catch you up on my vacation. I had been visiting a few of the tourist traps in Biloxi when I overheard someone talking about the deaths at Beauvoir.” I could hear Edith typing away at her console, as I started. John had a puzzled expression on his face as Edith turned her monitor towards him. I knew she was answering his unasked question about what Beauvoir was.

“The people I had been listening to were talking about the mysterious circumstances the body had been found and that it had been the third body found in two weeks. I figured it was worth checking into. The local police were only too happy to share with a federal agency as they really had no clue how to proceed.

“The bodies were found on the grounds at Beauvoir, near the main building. There were no signs of a struggle; it was as if they had simple stopped living. I scanned the bodies and did not find any magical residue; in fact I found exactly nothing, just a big empty vessel.”

“Did you scan them for any residual arcane energy?” Peter interrupted.

“I only did a surface scan, but I did not find anything out of the ordinary there.” I said as I turned back to Peter, “Did you find any arcane energy on Rebecca?”

“Actually yes, that is what is curious she fairly reeked of the stuff. All I can figure form the energy levels is that she got hit by some sort of massive arcane stun gun. If it was a spell, they may have been shooting at you and she caught the edge of it.”

With his last words, I felt all eyes turn to me with one big question: What was I doing poking at hornet’s nests without proper backup.

I lowered my head and refused to offer any excuses for my actions. “Yes,” I coughed a moment and looked them each in the eye, “I made a very grievous mistake. Luckily I was allowed to live and learn from it. I will put myself on report later.” This brought a smile to their faces, I was known for my putting people on report.

“I had originally thought, from my own scans, that this was a simple ghost I was facing and I could get some quick answers. If the ghost pushed, I could banish it. However, it would seem that that was no simple ghost I was facing, but some sort of arcane specter. We need to do some research in the archives and see what has been going on in this area since the Civil War.”

So this, Edith piped up, “On it boss, now checking for any arcane or religious significance in this area for the last 150 years. Do you think it is limited to the Civil War?”

“Actually yes, it or he sounded very authentic for the Civil War time.” I thought for a moment and turned to John, “If memory serves there is a large shopping plaza just north of here, at Pass Road. Since Rebecca is out of service this leaves you to drive us there. No combat maneuvers, Rebecca is still out and I have a hangover from the grave. Right, John?”

“Yes, sir, boss man! You can count on me!” John said, standing to his feet and sharply saluting before turning on his heel to make the driver’s seat.

“But Dad,” Peter piped up from the back seat, “You never let me drive!”

“That is because of your sparkling and magnetic personality, Prince Peter.” I replied, which got me a healthy raspberry before he went back to his seat in the back of the bus.

Yes, this specter is in for a fight. What a wonderful way to spend one’s vacation.

Also, I got a couch! My vacuous space of a living room is growing up and it is good to see.

Just had a dear friend come back into my our lives, after being gone for awhile. I say “our” lives because she came back to visit her other friends, too, Ben and Jeremy. It is good to see here again.

Whelp, later folks.