tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63084323676232920752024-02-07T21:44:17.379-08:00Hop-ala! - a pyro's journey through lifeThere are three things that will not be satisfied...the barren womb, Earth that is never satisfied with water,
and fire that never says, "Enough." --Proverbs 30:16London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-40424965224282107252009-03-19T09:19:00.000-07:002009-03-19T09:36:01.045-07:00Spanish and the Bleed<a href="http://shop.ypproducts.co.uk/acatalog/desc_colon.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 254px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 425px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://shop.ypproducts.co.uk/acatalog/desc_colon.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/ad/Colonoscopy.jpg"></a><br />So my job does not entail anything below the stomach; yet, I was pulled into a room the other day because I speak a very limited number of Spanish words. Needless to say, my client was put on hold as I ran to do my duty and assist the physician.<br /><br />The patient is lying on his back and the doctor begins firing a million questions for me to translate so we can obtain his medical history.<br /><br />The patient, growing uneasy, responds cautiously.<br /><br />The doctor then snaps on a latex glove, searches out his KY Jelly, and then asks me to tell the patient he is going to roll him on his side and check for a rectal bleed.<br /><br />OMG! How do I say that?!!! [deep breath]<br /><br /><em>"El va a poner un dedo en su nalgas."</em><br /><br />Patient's eyes bulge. Finger in. Finger out.<br /><br />"It's green."<br /><br /><em>"Es</em> <em>verde."</em><br /><br /><p>"Good"</p><br /><p><em>"Es bueno... porque no hay sangre?"</em>[I think]</p><br /><p>So because of this wonderful inopportune time that I was provided to demonstrate my skills I have decided to try and learn Spanish. I SOOO did not sign up for this!</p></div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-41874702517635305262009-03-08T08:26:00.000-07:002009-03-18T19:51:40.163-07:00Learn to Live with It...<a href="http://akaixi144.googlepages.com/Altar.jpg/Altar-full;init:.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 599px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 784px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://akaixi144.googlepages.com/Altar.jpg/Altar-full;init:.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://akaixi144.googlepages.com/Altar.jpg/Altar-full;init:.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://akaixi144.googlepages.com/Memorial-2.jpg/Memorial-2-full;init:.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 475px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 698px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://akaixi144.googlepages.com/Memorial-2.jpg/Memorial-2-full;init:.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">Death will always be there. Whether there has been months, weeks, or days of preparation. What if it is sudden? I have realized that no matter what or how, it will always be tragic. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">The tears will come without remorse. They are so unforgiving and have no predjudice for who may be watching as they fall. </div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">The body physically ill as a part of you goes to the grave with the one you loved.</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">The spirit finally broken, my soul mourns for the one I lost ... but for how long?</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">I ran away. I left the town that brings forth nothing but death and destruction. I wanted to heal.</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">I want to forget!</div><br /><div align="left">It will never go away. This will always be there. The hell with the stages of grief!</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">Refusal</div><br /><div align="left">Anger</div><br /><div align="left">Depression</div><br /><div align="left">Acceptance<br /><br />Bullshit! People die when the shouldn't! So tell me, how long should this mourning last?! When should I stop being brought to tears! Why should I not be sad?!!<br /><br /></div><blockquote></blockquote><ul><li><div align="left">"He was shot last night." Why?</div></li><br /><br /><br /><li><div align="left">"They can't do anything more for her cancer" Why? What makes everyone else so special that they get to live and receive the latest and greatest treatment?</div></li><br /><br /><br /><li><div align="left">"They found your cousin dead at grandma's house." It's Christmas Eve! Really! Is this how Christ intended for me to celebrate His life.</div></li></ul><br /><p align="left">That was my Friend! My aunt! My cousin! The news keeps coming, yet no one has answers.</p><br /><p align="left"></p><p align="left">How long will this mourning last?!</p><br /><p align="left">It does not go away....the thoughts will always be there...but there is an even bigger fight.... learning to live with it</p></div></div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-25339508459606415642009-02-23T20:15:00.000-08:002009-02-23T20:38:17.215-08:00Grandpa and All That Jazz!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9OlHIRxB7DdDT7QDVEHXHzR4ma8Y-DQ5p-nqmyVYS4QbopPd59f4SBfxoiyZoH6k5j_AMGoYDr-B17LTskJywX9Sd-uA4yHGuQU9Xbj9l5HI9ebF4m-1HSEee6sCm9ZYzPfMSY1iu2tA/s1600-h/Grandpa.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306213213979749874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9OlHIRxB7DdDT7QDVEHXHzR4ma8Y-DQ5p-nqmyVYS4QbopPd59f4SBfxoiyZoH6k5j_AMGoYDr-B17LTskJywX9Sd-uA4yHGuQU9Xbj9l5HI9ebF4m-1HSEee6sCm9ZYzPfMSY1iu2tA/s320/Grandpa.jpg" /></a><br /><div>So I went to see 'Ella' at the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Laguna</span> Playhouse. There are no words to explain the sheer genius and talent that I was able to indulge in. I was in awe of the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Skat</span>-queen ... yet felt compelled to share this moment with those nearest and dearest to me.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>My grandfather was a musician back during a time when segregation was alive and thriving. Many of times he has shared his stories about how he was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">privileged</span> to be around great talent despite his Chicano background.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>He has always told me, "Don't ever feel inferior because of your race. They are just people like you and me." So as I sat in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Laguna</span> Playhouse, with my non-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">blonde</span> hair and inadequacy of social etiquette, I felt right at home in the familiarity of the music of my soul. The music he played. The music that existed before me.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>I was enthralled ... and wished so much that people could experience Grandpa's music one last time. And there it was. On stage. Grandpa's music. During my Sunday visit with him I was bubbling over with excitement just sharing with him my experience at the play. Then..........a deep breath........afraid of the rejection........I asked him if he would like to go. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>His 90 year old wise face turned towards me, and he softly replied, "I would enjoy that."</div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-51148454651633557702009-02-18T20:37:00.000-08:002009-02-19T17:38:16.569-08:00The Basement and ForgottenSo it's been awhile, right? Well, I have found that being out of school makes me a nice person... I think. Anyhow, I started working in a basement with the nonverbal. Their ages vary. The workers have time warped and are stuck in their old ways. They are not inclined to move forward... just remain static...IN THE BASEMENT!<br /><br />I am not satisfied ... I have suddenly become bored (go figure). So I am moving on. Let me back up a minute. My other half finally moved me away from a town that thrives on murder to 'Pleasantville'. He must have finally got the hint after I played 'Cowboy Take Me Away' by the Dixie Chicks like a million times. So now I live as a Stepford Wife, and will be going back to Death Town to work.<br /><br />I am a freak of nature ... In a few months the wind will change direction and I will want to follow it (of course). And like the fire, I will raise hell in a new place until it is time for me to burn elsewhere...London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-18200501352518934462008-08-07T07:46:00.000-07:002008-12-10T04:53:20.309-08:00The World of Music & Art<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxzjzpx5pCpmi0OvrE5hmf9Hx_c0cYnsfERDXk52C244JZXyGLYCmxxt2UX8Jw5PcLuImje82pBy6nPwdAev3gF9sLhG4gs8NO01OhtBTekjoEW6UrWtU6YQe5RoYdoLrocWZIYX0bq2kj/s1600-h/Yezve+CD+label+1.jpg"></a><div>Kudos to my Cowboy and <em><strong>Yezve </strong><a href="http://yezvemusic.googlepages.com/home"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://yezvemusic.googlepages.com/home</span></a> </em>for their collaboration <em></em>in the production of the CD artwork for the release of <em><strong>Monocultura</strong>.</em> <em><strong>Yezve</strong></em> has been carefully articulating this compilation for sometime, and with satisfaction with the fruits of their labor, they are ready for production. To convey the spirit of their music, they came to my Cowboy (<em>Akaixi - </em><a href="http://akaixi144.googlepages.com/"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>http://akaixi144.googlepages.com</em></span></a>) to create the art.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It is a beautiful thing when the arts community can come together and achieve the vision.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">See also <a href="http://reeltoreal.blogspot.com/2008/07/reel-2-real.html">http://reeltoreal.blogspot.com/2008/07/reel-2-real.html</a> for more information regarding the production.</span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-82425217435575345832008-08-05T12:31:00.000-07:002008-08-05T13:44:28.283-07:00The 'Don't Shut Up' Quote<a href="http://www.aetv.com/the-cleaner/downloads/cleaner_wallpaper1_1280x1024.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.aetv.com/the-cleaner/downloads/cleaner_wallpaper1_1280x1024.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>So, if you ever talked to any member of my family, they will tell you that I always have an opinion to share. If anyone of them were in trouble, I would offer them ideas of available opportunities. If they were on self-destruct, I would try to intervene. AND if you were just plain screwin' up then I will just as plainly flat out tell you. I'd like to think of it more of as being a do-gooder vigilante type, like the extreme interventionist Benjamin Bratt on <em>The Cleaner. </em>ha ha<br /><br />Maybe it is not my place. Matter of fact it is never my place, but this verse compels me to not shut up!</div><br /><div><div><div></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>"<em>Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter. If you say, 'But we know nothing about this', does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who guards your life know it?"</em> --- Proverbs 23:11-14</strong></span></div><br /><div>At least I stood for something, right? For some people, the above quote is an excuse for remaining with those who are detestable, and they themselves fall into a lifestyle of self-destruct; however this quote seems quite fitting:</div><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>"Do not answer a fool according to his folly, or you will be like him yourself'...[for] As a dog returns to his own vomit, so a fool repeats his folly." </em>Proverbs 26: 4, 11</span></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-71535281615757551792008-07-31T13:29:00.001-07:002008-12-10T04:53:20.573-08:00A Quote to Ponder<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBaY1-TpN4dvk52jytXUUzt53X1uecoUrZto5hAmonUFtiogh72lDOAikiPlsCcLNlzaB99vg9KS1LJoZlp2pwlBPsQy9ymyd6SnUuOVirIapAEmhe2C5lPIpPTeCT6Fcig1DC4xzL9u4/s1600-h/last+lecture.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229287565915533378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBaY1-TpN4dvk52jytXUUzt53X1uecoUrZto5hAmonUFtiogh72lDOAikiPlsCcLNlzaB99vg9KS1LJoZlp2pwlBPsQy9ymyd6SnUuOVirIapAEmhe2C5lPIpPTeCT6Fcig1DC4xzL9u4/s200/last+lecture.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>"...<em>when you're screwing up and nobody's saying anything to you anymore, that means they gave up. And that's the lesson that stuck with me my whole life. Is that when you see yourself doing something badly and nobody's bothering to tell you anymore, that's a very bad place to be. Your critics are your ones telling you they still love you and care."</em></div><div><br /></div><div><em></em></div><div><br /></div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:85%;">Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture (2007)</span></div><div align="right"><a href="http://www.cmu.edu/randyslecture"><span style="font-size:78%;">www.cmu.edu/randyslecture</span></a><br /><br /></div><div align="right"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div><br /><br /> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div></div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-3028363909010176652008-07-24T18:00:00.000-07:002008-12-10T04:53:20.829-08:00Not a Good SamaritanLuke 10:30-37:<br /><blockquote><p>"A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who<br />stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half-dead. Now by chance a<br />priest was going down that road; and when he saw him he passed by on the other<br />side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on<br />the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was; and when<br />he saw him, he had compassion, and went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring<br />on oil and wine; then he set him on his own beast and brought him to an inn, and<br />took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the<br />innkeeper, saying 'take care of him; and whatever more you spend, I will repay<br />you when I come back.'"</p></blockquote><br /><br />That is how it should have gone down, but this is really what happened:<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226767636082483570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgbElxIBRshc7OGCdlpaVPZh08ZG36Q4JwNnbcdpc4XmBQ-wje7_ya_2BTcLDtOkWoIKlVdYV68Cq21hrhWloyRQF98ZorAQsKbETlSCYo0EzEdju7rMa_F_piZvr-8SDQOSwnQ_-IP4/s400/JAPAN+CAMERA+1+538+(2).JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br />SO, I have graduated from a well-established private University and have obtained my studies in an area that is in great demand. Being that I am a Type A, I began interviewing for jobs 3 months prior to graduation and was offered the position THREE MONTHS BEFORE GRADUATION. In order to begin working, I have to have a temporary license issued by the state. So I diligently took care of all of the paper work, and upon the nearing of graduation, I sent it off to the state so that a file was opened and the process started.<br /><br /><br /><br />I knew that it would be about 4 weeks before I could start working, and I made sure I contacted the State to ensure that I had not missed a step. Then a few weeks after the packet was mailed, I receive a letter stating that they are missing items. I call and they confirm that they have all the required components as of 2 weeks earlier, BUT because they are barely confirming this over the phone NOW I will have to wait 4 - 6 weeks from the time of the call.<br /><br /><br /><br />Two weeks pass and I am not making any headway with the state; therefore, I drive several hundred miles to the state capitol. They take my name and tell me that they already told me over the phone what date I could expect to be issued a license, AND that they can't tell me where we are in the process.<br /><br /><br /><br />I go home, sit tight for 2 more weeks, begin to exhaust the last of my savings, AND THEN receive the ultimate smack in the face. In early June the FBI advised the state that my fingerprints were not readable.<br /><br /><br /><br />A 3rd call is made with the following questions:<br /><br /><ul><br /><li>Why wasn't I advised of this 2 weeks ago when I was in your office?</li><br /><br /><li>Why wasn't I advised of this 4 weeks ago when I called your office?</li><br /><br /><li>What kind of time frame are we looking at once I get reprinted?</li></ul><br /><p>THE STATE says that they don't know why they never told me, and that it will take another 10 -30 days before they issue a license, and that they just realized I had another license with them and they failed to tell me that I did not need new fingerprints from the get go.</p><p>Needless to say, I had to suck it up before they bent me over again for one last SCREW....then I cried. Sitting, not desiring to leave the house, take calls, or....whatever (not even finish the sentence).</p>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-75897466888582588312008-07-23T13:14:00.000-07:002009-02-19T17:30:51.920-08:00ENOUGH!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NuSaqMcUAt1pFdVh-u-XoUGbDqo2Ie4ioSU_gM6XoCpgl2uNL8tbeAMgiSL_GZLWu2dQnCFo7SfI82miMU_wi-2lRYpdpHWt76oTGYgIJrfD43tAvgMfF43c9fFz8z37rjbuXSAMpu4/s1600-h/DSCN1724.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226758560786145666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NuSaqMcUAt1pFdVh-u-XoUGbDqo2Ie4ioSU_gM6XoCpgl2uNL8tbeAMgiSL_GZLWu2dQnCFo7SfI82miMU_wi-2lRYpdpHWt76oTGYgIJrfD43tAvgMfF43c9fFz8z37rjbuXSAMpu4/s320/DSCN1724.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivuvuoy6XHvh_wRINzxCmHUtRHFDbLatlyNB_e8N0YKvsLrfhYHknO1OUcYvbSukpk2ypPuXswZgfcbIzxMauDE7YWDUB7L_71rAabJZ7ikJOGCT-8ZuSezK0haJl6I8MsMhCKEug3WUg/s1600-h/Where+is+London.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div>So, I live incredibly close to a cemetary. </div><div></div><div>On Friday morning, 7 am to be exact, a female parks her SUV, turns up the Spanish music (the kind you play when you are drunk), and begins to clean her car! After cleaning her car, she sets out a lawn chair, but does not sit in it. Instead, she lays out in the grass next to an overly decorated grave. Who does this?!!!! Obviously someone who has no discretion, right?</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The maintenance men are on the property, so I assume that the facility is open and call to make a complaint. Mind you, this is not the first time that I have complained about these patrons who party weekly on this grave site. From 7am - 830am I get the business answering service who cannot do anything but take a message. In a mad rush, I finish getting ready and drive over to the office to make a complaint. I am greeted by two snotty, entry-level secretaries who are bothered at the fact at the first words out of my mouth are "I would like to speak with a manager please."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>They respond by sending me a grounds keeper supervisor, and I follow by stating my reason for my business (e.g. the neighbors are tired of the loud music, parties, and garbage in our yards on account of these patrons; AND this is one of many complaints that has not been resolved). This towering man responds by stating that <em>I NEED TO CALL THE POLICE</em> because it is not their problem. In response to his attempt to side step responsibility I retort:</div><br /><blockquote>"So you are telling me that the actions that are conducted on your<br />company's property are not your responsibillity? You are telling me that<br />you are not accountable for maintaning the integrity of this nieghborhood,<br />correct? Are there not noise abatement laws that your business is<br />responsible for adhering to should your conduct effect those in your<br />vicinity?"<br /></blockquote><br /><br /><div>With a perplexed look on his face, he stated that he would address the issue promptly and that I was welcome to contact him anytime.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Needless to say, I have had enough! Enough of the side-stepping of responsibility. Enough of those who have never been raised to have consideration for others. AND enough of keeping my mouth shut so that I assertive confrontation is avoided.</div></div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-61075610093600706032008-07-16T15:21:00.000-07:002008-07-16T16:10:30.702-07:00Pure Insanity<a href="http://www.treasurekingdom.com/mm5/graphics/00000001/queenhearts333.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 196px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="235" alt="" src="http://www.treasurekingdom.com/mm5/graphics/00000001/queenhearts333.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>As the fire, here is the latest thing that I would like to 'burn' and bring back to its simplest form. I mean, where have the days gone when family is a support mechanism and not a 'co-dependent' relationship? I live in a world where all of the characters are the Queen of Hearts, and some one is a subordinate to someone else; therefore, there is no compromise.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So a girl sends me a text saying she is marrying a guy from a far off land and her sibling is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">irate</span>. Invitation or sympathy outreach? I wasn't able to decode the meaning either, so as a defense mechanism (uh, in an effort to not react), I respond with "Let me know when you are moving so I can say goodbye." Rude or clever? I really don't care what you think, it's my issue, I just like to ponder another person's means of dealing with the situation. My reasons are mine, pretty much meaning it is not my problem to take ownership of.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Then I get a call from a Woman asking to pick up a child for lunch from school. The child is given fast food meals everyday so how can I argue with an established routine, right? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Anywho</span>, the woman on the other line has poor health and is huffing and puffing because she is caring for her brother who is ill, and she is also in a rush to get to the hospital to care for another gentleman who is in the advanced stages of a degenerative disease. All the while, this child's father had come from across town to pick up the child's younger sibling at the same school.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>THEN the Woman invites my spouse and I for dinner; however, we must be there early because a boy would like dinner by a certain hour, AND an Elderly Man is expecting her to arrive that evening to prepare his dinner and settle him in for bed. (I declined the invitation even though I know how much it means to the Woman that I join her.)</div><br /><br />I truly do feel bad about the whole situation (running around rampant and the Woman not being physically well herself), but I can't change how things are. It is what it is, So I am here, waiting on the <em><strong>world</strong></em> to change...<br /><div></div><div> </div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-78172338574706755612008-07-15T18:56:00.000-07:002008-12-10T04:53:21.313-08:00The Many Adventures of BerdooSo here is how they would like <span style="font-family:lucida grande;">you</span> to see it:<br /><br /><div align="right"><a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/imageviewer.asp?ean=9780738555812"><span style="font-size:78%;">http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/imageviewer.asp?ean=9780738555812</span></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNr1nwOZYTVDDCxBPj7Gxr4Pm8LyVX1rbw_7yMLDdt7ejkAnJnkGwXLgb21BXKAZ7s6rDsxNas1TiNP1qSEeGJG6fy7mzRFghFnEPIFev4I3y_yp6HPZbOHLmGUwkUsc2NllvB4_7viog/s1600-h/berdoo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223427573681025442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNr1nwOZYTVDDCxBPj7Gxr4Pm8LyVX1rbw_7yMLDdt7ejkAnJnkGwXLgb21BXKAZ7s6rDsxNas1TiNP1qSEeGJG6fy7mzRFghFnEPIFev4I3y_yp6HPZbOHLmGUwkUsc2NllvB4_7viog/s200/berdoo.jpg" border="0" /></a> But this is the reality of it and how it will be remembered:</div><br /><div align="right"><span style="font-size:85%;">An Excerpt by Sam Quiniones, LA Times (June 29, 2008)</span></div><br /><div align="right"><a href="http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-deadprez29-2008jun29,0,5220060,full.story"><span style="font-size:78%;">www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-deadprez29-2008jun29,0,5220060,full.story</span></a></div><br /><blockquote></blockquote><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;"><blockquote><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">"They grew up together...Nobody ever anticipated this."The story ... is a tale of neighborhood bonds torn apart by power, betrayal and greed... 'You grow up with somebody 15 or 20 years and he<br />tries to kill you,...Something's wrong there.' San Bernardino's West Side is a flatland of wooden houses, small markets and vacant lots that has always been separate from the rest of the city.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">The Santa Fe railroad, built in the late 1800s, divided the West Side from downtown. In the 1960s, the 215 Freeway, with offramps only heading east, 'strangled the business district here, which was<br />extremely active,' said Esther Estrada, a city councilwoman who grew up in the neighborhood. But the West Side hung in.Santa Fe's train repair shop employed more than 1,000 people, most of them West Siders. Men also worked at Kaiser Steel's factory in Fontana, or at Norton Air Force base.</span></p><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">Yet the neighborhood united against outside threats.</span></p><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">In 1983, the school district moved to close Pacific High School. The West Side loved the school. Barrio kids anchored its top-flight wrestling team... But the district prevailed, and the school closed.</span></p><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">Then in 1984, Kaiser Steel closed, laying off dozens of neighborhood men. In 1992, Norton Air Force Base also closed, taking 10,000 jobs. Then, Santa Fe Railroad took its shop and a thousand<br />jobs to Topeka, Kan.</span></p><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">New drugs arrived in the barrio.</span></p><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">In the early 1980s... 'the thing that really destroyed a lot of families was PCP' -- an animal tranquilizer that makes humans impervious to pain. </span></p><div align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></div><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">Crack came in the late 1980s. Kids dealing dope replaced men with union jobs.</span></p><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">Youths stopped dancing to form gang cliques and feud over street corners. Families fleeing the L.A. gang-and-crack nightmare brought more of it to San Bernardino.</span></p><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">Violence skyrocketed. Many West Side youths went to prison...</span></p><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-family:arial;">New immigrants began moving in. They took the menial jobs that neighborhood youths had counted as theirs. Old-time Mexican American families felt invaded."</span></p></blockquote></span></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div><div>So in my pursuit for something greater, I have resolved that this is not a place I would seek out FOR ANYTHING WHAT-SO-EVER.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223437887240946994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhaxNZrr5PPL-sJt_eNImNqdAVwclgs4Zj5Qs6XeGHhZHn3rIRaJ_Rkce8zeYzldMKgBkQ7_k1Sty_dkhJcymWvV3mnpm7iSVJDLADf7yD_e69C-Nh0U-NuCy3_P9x1TdC1Y1cACpb6Uk/s200/seuss.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div></div></div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6308432367623292075.post-47634911585968766042008-07-15T15:09:00.000-07:002008-12-10T04:53:21.474-08:00UNDER CONSTRUCTION<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgIK2KN2v1XXUzXmOxHngxDotCPhG_xks3Q0XxVuP0HRPRuVRJX-CYnbkIs9zu6KS_DV3RmiHPnjTRjR1ZgfY874cmleVPc24NJeHKupTR-RcR5xUCYLYpuzjiw4Gzz4bkiCyhWLY-as/s1600-h/Japan1501.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223368271982333874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgIK2KN2v1XXUzXmOxHngxDotCPhG_xks3Q0XxVuP0HRPRuVRJX-CYnbkIs9zu6KS_DV3RmiHPnjTRjR1ZgfY874cmleVPc24NJeHKupTR-RcR5xUCYLYpuzjiw4Gzz4bkiCyhWLY-as/s320/Japan1501.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"><em>YOU'LL SEE!!!</em></span><br /><br /></div>London Heartshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03361552675903845551noreply@blogger.com0