The SWAT Team

One of the craziest things that ever happened to me happened yesterday. I was settling down to find a movie to watch when we suddenly lost Wi-Fi again. We've had problems all summer, so we decided to get off Xfinity and switch to Tmobile, which saves us $15 a month anyway. This happened around 4 PM, which is when all hell was breaking loose next door, unbeknownst to us. Police had blocked off the road, which we found later was disrupting the Wi-Fi, because there were at least 10 cars all hovering by the corner about a 100 m from our house.

For two hours we went through the painstaking ordeal of getting Tmobile to comply with our switch. An operator named Britney asked so many detailed questions that we had to start dinner before we could finish. In fact, we finished dinner before she was done! Anyway, the Wi-Fi still wasn't working at 6:30 so we played video games instead. Ten minutes into it the doorbell rang and a loud bang was heard. Immediately I knew it was serious. I opened the door and a SWAT team is asking if they can access our backyard. Police cars are everywhere, so are bystandards. I say yes, what's going on? He says you should probably stay in the house. The house on the corner, the neighbor we've had the least amount of problems with-someone very bad was in it at the moment. So of course I got as close as I could, hanging out by the side window where the officers had congregated by the fence.

A megaphone was blaring "you are under arrest, come out with your hands up". The officers fired many rounds of tear gas at the house. They were coughing up a storm and so did we after a while. Moments later, the SWAT team decided to break down the fence to get closer. And they picked the exact spot where I'd killed a yellowjacket nest a couple weeks earlier. Lucky for them! So they smashed our fence and went in, the megaphone still blaring. AK9 unit follows them with a dog. We're thinking it's a major drug lord this whole time, with a violent record. The SWAT team broke windows to apprehend the barricaded nuisance who refused to come out. I spoke with an officer, confirming we were safe and that the suspect had been arrested. Suspected of what? Domestic violence, he told me. Hard to believe a relatively minor crime would attract that much attention. A later rumor is that he was a murder suspect.

Fortunately I got a video of the police damaging our fence. We'll see if mom can get it sorted out. You'd think they'd fix it or at least tape it off but no. When I called them to ask if they would fix it I was told to file a report to the county. On one hand I respect those guys for risking their lives to protect us. On the other hand I feel sorry for that homeowner who likely won't see a dime. Definitely some complex emotions that I am still processing. Not since my hotel days have I been so rattled. 

Our Wi-Fi started working soon after they left. But we are still giving the bird to Xfinity.

Ken

 I have no voice,

 Sidekick beach bum to a chirpy bimbo,

 Who doesn't love me, only the image,

 Oblivious to a world where men are free.

 Enigma rotting off the polished oasis,

 Yearning becomes me, though it isn't my time,

 They are more interested in the repressed,

 The black and the female, rightfully so,

 Voices that were silenced for centuries,

 Now suffocating those like my own.

 My art, ejected from the century's malaise,

 Seeking recognition where nobody wants it,

 My words covered in the plasticky ephemera

 That dolls and diversity package to consume,

 Seas of oil blanketing the conscience

 Lost in the noise and confusion.

 Perhaps the only thing left

 Is to become her, the one I love,

 Especially the image, the overbearing power,

 Effacement inevitable as the portal unfolds,

 Stripped to the muscles on bleached sand

 Caught in my own web of lies,

 To pretend what they seek 

 In order to be heard.

Freeway

His eyes are glowing off the concrete reflections that wheels had polished as I pondered the switching lanes of life that penetrated choice at the apex of predestination. Last exit the face misplaced through haze of headlight vanished beyond motorcrash the faintest galaxy of night high beams accelerated the shadow of doubt speeding off ramps destined for the absence of red octagon's eliminating stillness. Amplifier cranked beyond sound ceiling drifting carelessly assembled transmission watching for signs too quick to count through the windshield barricade sailing under bridges like a barracuda cannonball blasted by a torpedo tattooed buccaneer. Rolling through exits familiar lost detours claim there are grievances postponing the pain until next season as the computer chips away at calculated creation with circuits anthropogenized characters that click those eyes those deep brown eyes full of wonder transmitted to my heart and I love when he computes navigation the way I did the way GPS and Google do now like they were human overlords determining fate. In his eyes I see the next generation hurtling petroleum stained obstacles that stripped nature to the grid for eternal humiliation as the old gods are dethroned the Earth detaches from orbit spiraling toward the flames and they are in his eyes blazing at curious constructions like the crane over the carpool lane or the maze of the mall erected over electric avenues. All is mystery as funnels obscure the city lights undressed by twilight when the port ignites fire bright the way it did when I was young but of course it is even more awesome for him my son my DNA shrapnel deposited on the shoulder where dreams are recycled as the next exit calls his name. Years I spent passing these signs these exits which way to the next dead end or where do I go when the lights go out and he is not there while I ever get lost or have I always been and can I get there faster or should I slow down so the signs become more clear. Dear madonna on the borderline motherboard get me out of here okay AI are you listening stop the madness change the signal teach him the real magic not the artificial velocity of capital AI dear God AI if these words become manufactured will he be able to tell the difference and will the rest of the world or will the artists go out in flames like the wilderness AI I dare you to make a product of me AI packed like sardines in tinfoil telescopes oh have mercy AI shut down the engine get the devil off my rear rear view mirror oh help me AI please give me his eyes instead.

Yellowjackets, Lakeside, Fedex, Jay

The past few weeks have posed a series of challenges that have resulted in my first week off in four years. First I had to destroy two wasps and one yellowjacket nest at the same time. The bees were invading our yard, I had to make a stand. The yellowjackets in particular were stressful because a they live underground and I'd been stung viciously by one while mowing the lawn. When the time came a dog started barking next door that wouldn't stop. It knew I was out making mischief. Killing a hive is nothing to be proud of. Sometimes I imagine how alarming it must be for them to suddenly be drowning in toxic chemicals. How they'd all panic as one single consciousness, reaching for the hole that leads out in futility. A different part of me is satisfied that I faced my fear and demolished the aggressive pests. With a glass of gas in one hand and wasp spray in the other, I approached the nest at dusk once they'd all gone inside. With my arm shaking I poured the gas in first, nervous that a rogue forager would see me. Then I sprayed with my other hand for 10 whole seconds- longer than recommended. You want to make sure the whole nest gets saturated, or the survivors can burrow their way out through a new hole. And some yellowjacket nests are mighty big. Once it was over I went to bed with mixed feelings, thinking my troubles were over.

 A few days later it was the disastrous result at Lakeside private school. The courage I had facing the yellowjackets failed me in a more social setting. This beautiful upper class school that had taught Bill Gates and Paul Allen- one of the highest rated in the country- had given me the opportunity to meet their team as an accounting professional. It was a final interview with 10 people- 2 different panels and the CFO privately. I'd prepared exhaustively for it. On arrival, I couldn't find a parking spot, which made me clam up. I waited for five minutes and none became available. There was no obvious place to park within the two block radius- everywhere there were no parking signs, and nobody would leave the visitor lot. Cones were placed on spots that were reserved for carpoolers. I thought of calling, but feared it would throw off my calmness, which from experience is never good. (Although one time I got a job after being late to the interview because I got pulled over for speeding.) Feeling the pressure of a two hour interview starting bad, I just drove away. The school called me three times but I didn't answer, opting instead to sulk in shame and humiliation. It was a golden opportunity that only comes once a year, and I'd blown it. Later I would thank the CPA for calling me, blaming the HR manager for the various issues prior to the interview, one which was that she told me they'd been contacting references but never did, leaving my boss expecting al call that never came. Frustrating it is to have to ask your boss to support you when a new employer calls. But if I had to be honest with myself I straight up chickened out, and those poor people got stood up because of my cowardice. The mess up with HR would have been water under the bridge if I'd gone through that door. My wife was upset for days, saying I need a therapy for quitting so easily all the time. Ouch. Not only had I burned a bridge but a thread of sanity as well.

The third challenge was convincing my mom to support me through college if I decided to leave Fedex, who pays for my tuition. I'd developed a crack on my foot, the next in a series of bodily dysfunctions caused by working in such a grueling environment. It is not for the week, mentally or physically. I feared for my life once when too many packages were limiting my ability to move. And the conveyor belt never stops unless you pull the cord, which I inevitably did. Anyways, mom seemed to have lost faith in me finishing a master's. I'd already backed out from a few degrees, so why shouldn't she? I understood. It was her money I was asking for; but for the first time I also offered to pay her back if I didn't finish. Even then she had doubts. It was doubt again, creeping through the surface to poison my future, just like it had done at Lakeside. She relented once I told her I was selling stock to pay for it. Sucks that I had to push that button.

The final blow came from my boss at PrintWest. After the Lakeside incident, I asked if I could do extra processing duties to help advance my career, including AP, payroll, taxes, closing, etc. The mistake was saying I wanted my title changed to Staff Accountant. He started involving me and the intern with challenges that are way beyond our understanding and have nothing to do with processing. What's worse is that he became extra critical, writing long-winded emails that involved tangents and lectures about basic things like meeting deadlines. I'm getting 8-10 long emails per day that are and discouraging, like he wants me to quit. I'd always thought he was trying to help me by saying I had the potential to take over his job when he retires. But recently I've learned I am not remotely close. I decided to halt this madness by asking for time off next week and telling him I was going back to college, which isn't a lie, but I let him assume it's for accounting. Meanwhile I will stay on course for the real plan, finishing my master's in geography and finding the right fit to advance my accounting career. I can't be overwhelmed with random challenges, trick questions and quizzes that will distract me from my real job and the first week of false semester. One can only hope he will get the point and cool off on my return. Hopefully by then I'll be close to a new job offer.

The Immortality Quintet

Listen, the holy disentanglement of neurons, survival of passion through the chords, listen, reverberations that break through the surface, entering soul, permeating grief, forgotten crystals that fantasy entombed, listen, oh immortal Poet of the cosmos, harmonious oscillations in sync with the source, listen, close your eyes, sink into the sensation that sound is your sanctuary, lofty sounds, sounds that terminate doubt, extinguishing flames, where the planets have no name, listen, drink in the notes that flood your passions, caressing joy, embalming forgiveness, a tomb for the regrets, listen, love and laughter swimming around the chemicals, nutrients of salvation that bend the chords, listen, the emptiness opens your eye, unseals the juicy trance, listen, wings that strum high on lithium through the mysterium, listen, portal to heaven vibrating through the spheres.

Calmly does peace of mind suture the void that between souls shed shadows into light. Vesicles of pheromones to dizzy the social apparatus, unconscious linkage of their arms at the shearing's fulcrum. Two blades of personality, sharp as the ringing of Sunday bells, separated at birth, moving closer as time's axle conspires with the elements, smiles wrapped in perfume disarmed by the bush. Though they quarrel by verse, divided by maximum extent, they are united in chorus, locked in comfort as they shears come together, two of a kind, a pair of dangerous allies, snipping at anything that comes in their path.

Marriage of sound and rhythm weave these webs of destiny. Those caught in their snare relent to the course of life, those that don't are running from the song, the song that life is singing for them, ears closed to any suggestion of selfless achievement. It doesn't matter in the end, the song always catches them, even those driven, deaf to consequences. Once caught, the soul is immediately released to an ocean of vibration, where time stands still and the shears interlace. All that can be felt is the sweet melody, where the music lives.

At the treehouse park an ordinary old man plays his guitar, simply and softly. The children chirp as they play under sun-soaked evergreen canopies. Their song is his, running and leaping around him, serenading his solo like a flock of flamingos. They tell him to watch out for the bees, golden strings that buzz through wildflowers, inviting sunlight. Children-song endorses his slow picking as it pacifies the playground dressed in trunks, leaves, branches, light footsteps treading on brown and green. The sounds carry to a curious family with little ones, aimlessly trumpeting around a tennis court. He watches the children clambering in playful abandon, a wild brass duet to accelerate his reserve, suddenly warbling in unison the chorus to "Waltzing Matilda". And it all makes sense.

A stone ejected from a supernova spends an eternity in space, waiting for her. Millions of orbits it passes in blind anticipation, descending into a gravity nexus built of stone on top of stone. Eons it spends cooling, reheating, cooling again, the cycles of settlement like life and death, waiting for her. Long has it listened, in the place where music lives, only to wait for her. The oceans churn, the mountain roll and tumble, animals come and go, the sun and the ice share supremacy, and still it waits for her. Until one day, in the cozy nook of the cavern, it hears her for the first time, a jingling child of the jungle, fetching gem for the trade. She sings that there's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold.

Affirmations

 I am a good father

 I am a loving husband

 I am an intelligent student

 I am a capable accountant

 I am a creator of beautiful art

 I make mistakes that I always learn from

 I help when asked or needed

 I am a breaker of cycles of abuse

 I have been a monster transformed

 When overwhelmed, I step back

 I keep my body active

 I take care of my body

 I am a good son

 I am careful with money

 I am efficient and organized

 My navigation skills are exceptional

 I see things before they happen

 I have never been fired

 I am successful at everything important

 I have read a 1000 books

 I have written a 1000 works

 I have been to the top of mountains

 I have seen the nation's wonders

 I am beautiful inside and out

 I listen when it's important

 I feel empathy for strangers

 I am a good subordinate

 I am not afraid to break rules

 I am affectionate and playful

 I make wonderful playlist

 I am a stress reducer

 Teaching gives me energy, purpose

 I am a gifted geographer

 I don't consume unnecessary things

 I have respect for nature

 I live in the present

 I have saved the inner child

 I am a hero

Wildfires in 2023: Cartography Project Reflection

        I wanted to make a map that was important to the seasonal relationships between drought, wildfire, and smoke- fitting for a summer class.  Our area has had a new “smoke season” in recent years, and I wanted to show the current situation related to that on a national level, as these variables can impact places far away from their origin.  But doing all three would have been a tall task, so I settled on simpler information that can be found by drought and wildfire data alone.

            There was a lot I changed from the initial draft.  Most importantly, it was the message of the map, which I found lacking.  Originally the message was to show where wildfires were likelier to spread due to drought conditions.  I felt this could be intuitively gathered by asking a different question: has drought increased the spread?  This I placed in the title, helping to clarify the message.

            Other things I changed were the color scheme, which a colleague felt was difficult to interpret.  I changed the drought conditions to a gray scale for the wildfires to stand out more.  Then I added a subtitle and a note to help explain what the data was showing.  The lecture and lab this week helped me to tweak the placement and alignment of my elements, and to balance the map.  My north arrow is smaller and less elaborate.  I fixed the presentation of my legend for wildfires.  A coordinate system was also added. 

I didn’t add a background as someone suggested, because I thought that might distract from the map’s focus.  I prefer to keep things simple in an academic setting, where the goal is to read and interpret information, not focus on aesthetics.  Though with more practice, aesthetics could come into play more as my skills are refined.  Nonetheless, I find this is an elegantly simple map to look at, and I am proud of my work, even if there are shortcomings.

With more time and better data, I would have tried making the map more aesthetic by adding the background.  Rather than smoke, additional data would have been forest cover, to help illustrate why the Great Plains have less wildfires despite having more drought.  This would have rendered the note unnecessary and made the map more complete.  Areas where drought and forest overlap would have had a special mixed symbology.