This is a blog for "people". You're not defined by your latest & greatest. You are you and that's great enough.
By: ricderr, 1:00 AM GMT on January 14, 2009
Man oh man, I wonder if I know how to write a blog anymore. Let me give this a try by starting with a few comments.
I’ve come to the point, that I miss this place and all the crazies, myself included. Life was simpler when I could park my butt in front of a computer and do my work and play to boot. Things are tough though over on that far planet called Florida, the head welder of where I used to work came into Becky’s work looking if they had a job open in their kennel. From welder to kennel clerk shows you how tough the job market is there. I also read today where in Palm Bay, just up north from us home prices have plummeted to where in 2006 a house selling for 236,000 is now going for 110,000.
A lady made me smile today. I was driving through a neighborhood towards a home we were reroofing and as I came to the intersection I was preparing to stop and a lady walking across looked up and I guess she was alarmed as she didn’t notice me, that I might run her over. It wasn’t a big deal as there was a stop sign at the corner, but still I raised my hand to let her know I saw her and she broke into a smile as big as life and waved back to me. That really made my day, nothing more than a smile and a simple wave of her hand.
Even though I haven’t been blogging as much I do enjoy reading MLC’s blog. The guy is crazier than a loon, nah, not really, but I figured he’d read this and his blood pressure just rose 10 points. He and I could not be further apart on our viewpoints and how in the heck he can believe what he believes baffles me. There’s a few guys here at the house that I work with that I feel the same way about and even though I expect to never change their point of view, I at least hope to understand their mindset. One of the guys here believes the government is one giant conspiracy regardless of party affiliation, we provide each other with hours of entertainment as we argue our points of view.
A little side note to the fictional story of Quatro. It seems once before he was caught and processed for illegally crossing the border and because of that coming over on a work visa is not a possibility. Through looking into this though I am amazed about learning how many come over on temporary work visas and then stay or how many use the same social security card to get jobs to the point that there is no way I’ll ever believe the government couldn’t easily remove them. We may read that illegal immigration is a drain to our tax dollars, but I’m becoming a firm believer that the government, through their inaction, has some reason that they’re not telling us about.
This all brings up the matter of police. I have never been anywhere in the country where I’ve seen so many police. Whether it be on the highways or city streets I see the police on bikes, motorcycles, cars a on foot patrol. No one has to worry about me speeding since I’ve got out of state plates and I figure that makes me a prime target. I’m also not saying it’s a good or bad thing since I’m not doing anything wrong, I've no reason to worry, it’s just that Houston and Harris County seem to have a whole bunch of police officers. Now, when I lived on Whidbey Island the police were a whole different matter. We called them the Oak Harbor Gestapo. They all sported flat tops and wore black leather gloves and in my opinion thought everyone who wasn’t a cop must be a criminal. Although not funny at the time, I think it as hilarious now, the first day I took over the Copeland I ran, I arrived at about 5:30 a.m. and I had the security code, but the day before for some odd reason my assistant manager had changed it. One minute after I entered the peaceful silence was shattered by the blaring sound of sirens. I quickly called the alarm company, but although I knew the response code and knew the old security code, they did not have my name on file and by directive they had to notify the police. That wasn’t a big deal, so I stood by the glass front door awaiting there arrival and sure enough less than two minutes not one but three of Oak Harbor’s finest rolled up with their lights out and fanned out around the stores parking lot. As I came out to greet them, they opened their doors, took defensive stances behind those doors and with guns drawn commanded me to lie face down on the ground, arms and legs outstretched. Now those that know Washington State know that many days it’s wet and this morning was not an exception. So I said, ‘come on guys do we really need to do this?” To which one of these officers replied, as if I hadn’t spoken and as if every would be burglar sported Dockers, an oxford shirt and tie, “lie down or I’ll shoot." Well, I’m dumb but I sure aint stupid, so I complied and as they were frisking me I told them if they would just check my wallet they would find my business card, stating me as GM and drivers licens and amazingly both names would match. So eventually all was fine and they went on their way and I got to spend the first day of my new job in soiled clothes and this leads to the QOD:
What is your funniest police story?
By: ricderr, 3:20 PM GMT on January 02, 2009
This is not a New Years, resolution, as it seems there is only two options in regards to those, triumph or fail. I believe life is a series of both triumphs and failures and even in our triumphs we experience failures. I expect to fail along the way, but I also expect to succeed. The question will be how long will it take to achieve the goal. In my case, it will probably take a lifetime. See, I’ve decided, I need to be more compassionate. Let me write that better, “MORE”, ok “LOTS MORE.” It’s time to live more in other peoples shoes than my own. Let me relate a story.
We have one roofing crew living with us here at the house, They are all Spanish and of Mexican decent, they hail from Arkansas, they do excellent work and are a great bunch of guys. We’re talking about guys who try hard to understand you, who even thought they don’t have 2 nickels to rub together would give them to you if you asked. Oh, they’re not perfect, they drink far too much, they need to understand the concept of deodorant and they had better learn how to clean up the kitchen the few times they use it.
One of the crew goes by the name of Quatro, thusly named because he can handle no more than 4 beers. Quatro is 43, has a wife and 6 daughters, all of whom live in Mexico along with an elderly mom and dad and a disabled sister. Quatro is the provider. Quatro is also an undocumented worker, yep as we better like to say, an illegal alien. He works and makes anywhere from 400 dollars to 800 dollars a week depending on their schedule and he keeps between 60 to a 100 dollars each week and sends the rest home to his wife. His work has allowed his family to buy a house and property where they now grow vegetables and sell them. Their hope is to be able to open up a store and Quatro will be able to come home, knowing his family is provided for. Quatro lives one step above homelessness to achieve this dream and he has not seen his wife and children for 2 and a half years. Well, that was until last week.
Quatro received a call Christmas Eve, telling him his father was dying and his dying wish was to see his son one last time. Quatro, left his dreams, put in question his future to grant his dads desire. For him to come back to our country he will have to raise 3,000 dollars and risk crossing the border. That is the going rate at the moment. We’ll see if he makes it. Wrong or right as this situation might be, I want that same type of compassion to be a part of my life.
Sorry guys, I can’t find a question in this one.